#also for a guy who doesn't take care of himself he's rather muscular

[aethelwyneleigh27]

Cod Characters General Dating Headcanons (part one)

+ Random and Some bits of Chubby Fem S/O Headcanons with mentions of different nationality S/O

+ What type of BF/GF they would be

Including John Price, Simon "Ghost" Riley, John "Soap" MacTavish, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, Alejandro Vargas, Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Fem terms and pronouns like she/her are used for the reader

ꕥ HOPE YOU ENJOY! ꕥ

My rules for requests and characters I can write for

Please comment if you want to be added to the taglist, the next part or cod content alone.

Taglist: @marshmallowinamess

A/n: Hi lovelies! Lia here, I'm back after a nerve-wracking week of school. This is a bit short but I hope you enjoy it otherwise. God I fucking hate school. I wrote all of this in a cold room, a heat pad on me (because period cramps) and at 3am so any mistakes will be edited out as soon as I'm aware of it.

This is divided into a multiple part thing (I think 2-3?) because God knows I can't fit them all in one post because of the limited amount of gifs and photos. I'll add more to these in the future, some are longer than others because I can't think. Also because I can't write them all at once, that's a lot to write okay 😭

Disclaimers/warnings: Typical Cod things, OOC characters???, Unrealistic, Some suggestive themes and language, I'm so sorry but English is not my first language so please don't come after me. Most of the content I've seen are on TikTok and Tumblr I don't actually play the game but I love the characters so much, same with any other content I have for other video games.

Tiny sidenote: the reader in this has been describe to be shorter than the characters and has been mentioned to have a soft body rather than the muscular type.

John Price

ꕥ (OH MY GOD LOOK AT HIS SMILEEE) (He's such a quokka)

ꕥ Price who literally is such a father figure, doesn't matter whether the relationship between you two is romantic or platonic. He often takes the dominant caring role.

ꕥ Doesn't smoke around you, doesn't matter if you insist he doesn't. He still won't and definitely will criticize you if you try or do smoke because he doesn't want you do end up like him.

ꕥ If there's a bit of an age gap between you, I'd say he's hesitant. Definitely afraid of what the rest of the task force thinks (He can't help it, they're basically his boys)

ꕥ John Price who wants to settle down with you, maybe have kids if you want but just a white picket fence life with you without the chaos that is war and his job.

ꕥ He only ever let's you have his hat, only when he gives it to you though. Most of the time it would be while you're out, he'd put it on your head from his. (Cowboy hat rule? I heard that in more respectful terms rather than sexual, it respectfully means that you are theirs)

ꕥ John Price who rests his chin at the top of your head no matter how much he needs to crouch down whenever hugging you from behind. Love doing it whenever you're busy doing something too. (Props for the effort because you cannot tell me he doesn't have back, neck and knee pains)

ꕥ Is constantly worried if you share the same line of work, like at first it was nothing but a tiny crush and slowly he finds himself caring about your well-being more and more over time.

ꕥ Can't help but think he's an acts of service type of guy, reaching up for things you need or better yet lifting you up so you can reach them and loves opening things for you like bottles or anything canned. (Girlies who get their nails done or wear press ons know this struggle ( I'm a press on girly)

ꕥ The kind of man who would turn on some oldies music and slow dance with you in the living room, your footsteps and breathing being the only other sounds as you smile at each other, foreheads against the other's.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

ꕥ Ghost who is such Doberman/Black cat boyfriend. Like have you seen this man? He's so tall and intimidating, one distasteful look from him and if it was physically possible that person would drop dead.

ꕥ Ghost whose a chubby chaser through and through, he just looks for something different from what he's used to.

ꕥ Is definitely a tits kinda guy, doesn't matter how big or how small they are. He'll definitely play with them in some way during doing the you know what.

ꕥ Feels like you can take him and his size better because of your plush body. Has a size kink and likes seeing it bulge a bit when he's inside you.

ꕥ You're just so soft and warm, he wants something away from what he usually feels doing his job. Not really that touchy but he gets quite clingy within closed doors.

ꕥ Likes to squeeze your thighs, his grip on them would not falter. Doesn't matter whether it's in a sexual or domestic way.

ꕥ Thinks you deserve better than what he can offer and needs constant reassurance, never says it out loud but you pick up on what he feels. (please be patient with him)

ꕥ More often than not, he thinks you're quite fragile. Even if you can protect yourself, one of his ways of showing you he loves you is through protecting you. Hence the Doberman boyfriend scenario.

ꕥ Doesn't like PDA but knows when it's necessary, him placing his arm around your shoulder is enough to keep perverts in their places. If that rando is really that bold then they'll most likely end up with a few broken bones depending on how pissed Simon is.

ꕥ If you work alongside him, he'd constantly worry about your well-being but at the same time is conflicted because he's confident that he can protect you.

ꕥ Only you and the TF141 can call him Simon, he still feels uneasy when he gets called that but when it's you saying it, it doesn't sound as daunting to him. Still dislikes in in certain tones of voice because his name reminds him of his past.

ꕥ You've seen his face, it took a long time but after that he trusted you enough to show him. The fact that you didn't find his face revolting and even kissed his scars while cupping his face was enough for him to want to marry you.

ꕥ Isn't fully insecure about his face but has his moments. (You know like the voice line where soap asks him to take off his mask and asked him if he was ugly and Ghost said "Negative")

ꕥ Takes a little while to get him to open up and little things like letting you hold him takes him a bit of time to get used to because it makes him feel vulnerable.

ꕥ God forbid something were to happen to you and he couldn't do anything to stop it, Simon would lose his fucking mind.

John "Soap" MacTavish

ꕥ Soap is a Golden Retriever boyfriend through and through. He's energetic, loyal and really affectionate.

ꕥ He's a lighthearted flirt at first because he doesn't wanna scare you off but damn does he gradually get bolder over time.

ꕥ Very hands on, touchy, and could be clingy at times unless you don't consent him, secretly always finding new ways to touch you.

ꕥ A sucker for cheek kisses, lips are his favorite but he can't help but break out a wide grin whenever you kiss his cheek. Can't help but feel kinda manly whenever you do.

ꕥ Adores making you laugh, no matter how stupid your sense of humor is he will absolutely say that joke if it gets a laugh out of you. Would be concerned if you had a dark sense of humor but will eventually get used to it. To describe it, hearing you laugh makes his heart feel full like in a content domestic way.

ꕥ Also, see the gif? You cannot tell me that he doesn't look at you that way because he absolutely would.

ꕥ Loves your weight against his body to the pint he's begging you to lay on him. You, him in the bed while he's shirtless with grey sweatpants on and you in your night clothes sharing each other's warmth with your head on his broad chest.

ꕥ Shows you silly and cute pet videos, especially the cat ones:

"[Name], look at this one!"

"Soap, we're not adopting a pet. Not right now at least"

ꕥ He was upset and gave you puppy eyes the whole time because the only time he had pet was when he was child, it was a hamster which was killed because it got sucked into the vacuum by his older sister.

ꕥ You're the only one allowed to tough his hair, he's very proud of his mohawk and will let you style it. Won't wear it out if you did something silly to it though.

ꕥ Soap who loves showing you off to everyone, loves light PDA but doesn't wanna potential put a target on your back.

ꕥ He definitely is the guy you want to take home to your family and friends (or found family <3), he's funny and easy to get along with. Very flirty with you but he'll straighten out because he's terrified on making a bad impression.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

ꕥ (HE'S SO FREAKING UNDERRATED WITHIN THIS FANDOM)

ꕥ He gives Labrador boyfriend vibes, you can't help but want to take care of him.

ꕥ Gaz who literally had to do a double take when he first saw you, he turned to Soap with that "Are you seeing what I'm seeing?" look in a good way.

ꕥ Gaz who literally had to ask you out multiple times before you said yes thinking he's only doing it for a bet or a cruel joke.

ꕥ Constant reassurance from him because he doesn't want you to feel insecure about your looks because to him you are literally an angel.

ꕥ Loves to chill with you, cuddling and just relaxing. Maybe scrolling on TikTok occasionally and show you the funny ones he chuckled at.

ꕥ He has a sixth sense whenever you crave something, say you want chocolate or drink of some sort then he'd definitely being home whatever it is you we're craving without having to ask you.

ꕥ Kyle who has your Starbucks order memorized because he likes being the one to order things for you. Will playfully argue with you on who'll pay this time. (Don't even try anymore, he always wins anyway)

ꕥ Puts his hat on your head mostly when you're out, has done it the first time because it was hot out and the sun was in your eyes. He's picked it up from Price and once you smiled at him through the shade of his cap, he has not stopped doing it.

ꕥ Definitely a words of affirmation and acts of service kind of guy when it comes to love languages. Sometimes whenever he'd give you two thumbs up and a cheeky smile, you can't help but laugh a little.

ꕥ He's very thoughtful, so much so that he prides himself in knowing you better than anyone. Everytime you two go out to eat, when he gets something and know that you'll want to taste it (he knows damn well whether you'll like it or not when he tastes it) he'll bring it upon himself to order you one before you even say you want some.

ꕥ Soft snores when he sleeps, it's cute but you know damn well he's tired. Also I think he's very cuddly, like he just likes reminding himself that he's not alone and that his bed is warm because you're in it. Therefore at minimum always has an arm around you in bed.

ꕥ Dances in the rain with you and loves it when you pull him gently on his arm while your hands are intertwined. Takes note of how the the raindrops sometimes fall on your lashes while you look up at him smiling.

ꕥ Kyle Garrick who wants nothing more in the world to see you happy and smiling. His "this is the woman I'm going to marry" moment was when you baked his favorite cake for his birthday despite it being so hard, you nailed it perfectly. (Whether it's out of luck or skill is up to you)

Alejandro Vargas

ꕥ (idk how to write for this angry Mexican man but I'll try my best, love him and his megamind hairline though <3)

ꕥ Alejandro is definitely a flirt, a very bold on at that. He's quite forward when it comes to liking someone so yeah.

ꕥ He lives for it when you boss him around. That being said, he isn't picky about body type or any of the sort.

ꕥ Will teach you Spanish if you don't know any, definitely prioritizes the curse words and laughs whenever you jokingly call him pendejo.

ꕥ Wouldn't mind you teaching him your own culture and mother tongue. Bonus points if it's similar to his.

ꕥ Has Spanish nicknames for you because I imagine his own culture is important to him.

ꕥ Would hate it if you had the same line of work but will never take it out on you, it's just that it's so dangerous given the people he's involved with. (It's definitely Valeria)

ꕥ Speaking of El Sinombre, I don't think they had anything romantic going on. It's mainly platonic and the "betrayal" sucked on Alejandro's side. They definitely had some rivalry and the tension was through the roof. (Mainly because I headcanon Valeria as Lesbian)

ꕥ Can be so romantic when he tries, you can't tell me this mf ain't a smooth talker because he definitely is. Can be very blunt like in a forward way with his affection too.

ꕥ Likes kissing your wrist and feeling your pulse against his lips because it reminds him you're alive. (The amount of angst this scenario carries would be something I'm up for to write)

ꕥ Is sent on a fit of rage when something happens to you, say you got kidnapped then this man would tears off the walls of every building if he had to.

Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra

ꕥ (ANOTHER UNDERATED CHARACTER)

ꕥ Another Golden Retriever boyfriend. This man is just loving and dotting, very husband material.

ꕥ Loves chubby women, has a soft spot for them and just likes holding them.

ꕥ He's definitely used to the insecurity that comes with the body, also doesn't get why such beauty standards are even in place. Has and would fuck the insecure out of you again if he had to. (It's in a very gentle and loving manner)

ꕥ If you hold him in your arms, he'd be absolutely living for it. He already has had a long day and being honest he hasn't had many lovers that went far so having you care in this way about him would have him wrapped around your finger.

ꕥ Worships the ground you walk on. That's it.

ꕥ Would take everything to heart whenever you teach him or mention something within your culture if you aren't of Spanish origins like he is. He just loves you so much that it makes him happy knowing more about you.

ꕥ Would adore slow dancing with you, brings him back to reality where he realizes that he has you and that you're there.

ꕥ Terrified that one day you'll end up leaving him so reassurance would be much appreciated by him.

ꕥ Definitely a sucker for receiving forehead kisses, as for giving he likes to kiss the back of your hand.

ꕥ If ever danger presents itself to you too closely, he would have a heart attack like full on crying but not in public though.

[appleblueberry-pie]

You asked Yan!Miguel requests and I shall deliver

Yan!Miguel with a spider!reader that wasn't bitten by a spider but rather was experimented on (Alchemax still doing shady stuff) and has the same superpowers as Miguel (only that their venom is deadly).

However even after surviving the tragic things their canon indicates, they're a ball of sunshine.

oh yeah. it's all coming together.

MINE, ALLLLL MINE.

Miguel was having mixed feelings. He was coming to a point where it was hard to focus on his important work. It was hard to ignore his anxiety stomachache. Hard to ignore the usual annoying people that just wouldn't leave him alone in his man cave. And it was especially hard to forget about you. It wasn't ever possible to not think about you, but he just couldn't push you to the back of his head for at least two minutes. It was hurting him. It was also hurting his technology he kept destroying(he crushed two keyboards and threw his printer).

Why can't he just figure you out? Since Jess found you in your universe and immediately gave you the green flag to help his team of spider-people, he's found out so many things about you. But every time he is given an answer about one thing, it just digs him into a deeper hole of realization that he really doesn't know you. For starters, there's no legal government information of you anywhere. He's been watching you through his monitor for at least 2 hours a day, and most of your day consists of you beating ass. Like you have no other thing to do in your life, not to mean it in an insulting way.

It's just weird, because almost all spider-people have lives outside of them being spiders. But the more he observes you, your superhero life just reminds him more and more of....himself. You didn't have the obvious genetically-enhanced spider build that usual spiders do. Which was taller and slimmer. You were for sure taller(he did his research, you sprouted by 6 inches in height), but you were more on the muscular, bigger side. And this way, you would benefit more for close combat to take down enemies, instead of almost entirely relying on your webs. Similar to how he was. Another example to further explain, is he was watching you on his monitor while you had a mission to bring another universe's Green Goblin back to their universe. He found that your webs were obviously bio-engineered. Either you made these yourself, or someone made them for you. So, you were physically more powerful than the usual spider, had bio-engineered webs, and the way you fought.....

You had chased down that Green Goblin like he killed your family. It's not an exaggeration. GG was fast, but you were faster. He took multiple jerks around corners and through narrow alleyways, flying to get away from you. But you caught him. Slammed his body into the brick wall, damaging it. He screamed bloody murder to get away from you, and you just kept hitting him. He watched as your fist collided with his face multiple times. And when you finished, he saw you basically unhinge your jaw to show your long, venom-dripping, white fangs. They showed beautifully through the video footage lighting. They had to hurt when they protruded, it had to. But you didn't seem to care about anything in that moment besides finishing off your prey. You sunk your fangs into his neck, piercing them into his flesh as deep as you could, your regular teeth almost breaking into his skin as well. GG's scream of excruciating pain faded into complete silence. Miguel watched the man go limp in you arms. Was he dead? You held him to your body as close as you could to hide your catch from anyone who could've found the both of you. It concerned him so much with how you went about finding him, he had to interrupt you by calling your watch. You seemed to snap out of whatever trance you were in and removed your teeth from the now limp villain.

"Hello?" Your sweet voice rang through his watch and he couldn't find the right words to tell you to just bring the poor guy back to base. When you did, three doctors had to help resuscitate Green Goblin. What the hell did you do? You were asked this multiple times and you just felt more and more guilty when people continued to say it to you. Miguel decided to step in and remove you from the emergency room and just told you to take a few days off. All he could say to you is you deserved it, so you took his word. He immediately turned his monitors back on when you went back home, because it wasn't the end of your continuous mysteries.

When you go home, you clean up and then disappear. This wasn't news to him. But it was confusing because the cameras couldn't catch where you possibly went, even at different angles. It was somewhere in your bathroom. You'd open the shower curtain, step into the shower, close it and then not come out for the next 5 minutes. You did this once every two weeks. Other times when you were gone for the day, he tried to find the secret room you obviously had and...nothing. He couldn't find a damn thing. The wall was solid, it didn't seem like it was hiding anything. He scanned it multiple times with different gizmos he had up his sleeve, but nothing. So, after installing a small robotic fly that he placed into your home, he got lucky and managed to slip into a room hidden behind your shower when you went in at the dead of night. The room was almost entirely dark and all you had in there was countless metal bottles of some sort of a glowing serum and you would inject it into your shoulder. Something very similar to what he does to himself. He was surprised to next week with this information. What made it worse was that right after you injected yourself, you found his fake fly. So now you know someone was watching you. He can only hope you don't find out it was him who implanted it.

But now he was sure. You were just like him. It made him as happy as it made him frustrated because you had him all figured out. You knew he used injections, that he wasn't a natural spider, you probably also knew he loved you to the moon and back. He had a soft spot for you, and it showed so much it was pathetic. You could walk into his cave and call out for him with your siren song, and he would immediately turn off everything and drift your way, sweet nicknames for you sliding off of his tongue like sugar. He only ever wanted to please you. And he felt like you knew this. But even with everything he just found out about you just today, he still seemed in the dark.

All he knew is that you were a happy-go-lucky sweet girl. He didn't know why you did the things you do. Why you inject yourself, and why you are so predatory and ruthless when you basically hunt villains down. So, he asks you.

"Miguel?" He swipes all of his holographic screens away and turns off the rest of his devices, making a 180 to fully face you as you hop onto his platform. The smell of Empanadas wafted up his nose as you give three separate containers to him. "The cafeteria guy said he had extras, so I brought as many as he would let me for you. I know you don't eat much since you're really busy." His heart swells with affection as he coos at your sincere kindness, opening one to take his first bite. "Ohhh, querida, you didn't have to."(My dear)

You watch him place the rest on his desk and he finishes chewing to talk to you. "Thank you......So.....I wanted you to see me so that I can talk to you about how you handle the anomalies in other universes, and maybe even the regular villains in your own universe." You nod understandingly and Miguel had to ignore his increasing heartbeat at your eyes staring up at him.

"I'll be honest with you, amor. When groups are out to capture an anomaly, I usually don't have to monitor them because I have other people to do that for me. But Jessica and I sent you off on your own, knowing how much we can depend on you to carefully capture the anomaly with no troubles, which I know you don't. But, still, I take precautions and monitor you every now and then to make sure if you're alright or if you need any support. But when I see you through the my screens....you are....particularly rough with them. And it's more rough than the usual spider would be." You seem to know what he was talking about and advert your gaze, messing with your suit. (Love.)

"Y/n, you almost killed Green Goblin the other day." You purse your lips and nod in agreement. "Yes, I....."

You hesitate to speak. You didn't want anyone to know about your past. Did he have to know? You guessed so, since you are a part of a really big multiverse-saving company. It was so hard to escape Alchemax when they fucking tortured you every single day for their own pleasures. That stupid serum you can't live without? You stole enough to live for the next 3 years. And that's all you really needed. You took an Alchemax worker's apartment that you found deep in their records, knowing that if you fake your emails and his work, you could live in secret. You didn't want to live on like this forever. You knew that after those three years ended, then they ended. And you would follow.

Your only hope for the rest of your life is to live in secret and to help people as much as you can before you died. The serum just makes you a little.....violent. Just the way that the scientists liked it so that you could run on it for longer than usual. So, here you are. But how are you supposed to explain that to your boss?

"......Y/n?" He softly calls your name, concern etching his face as he reaches out to touch your hand. He almost didn't want to, not knowing how you felt about it. But when his finger very lightly grazed your warm and soft palm, you blinked back to life, grabbing his hand back. A breath entered his lungs and he seemed to be reborn at your sudden advancement to his touch.

".....Yes. I do have something to tell you." His eyebrows scrunch as he nods and pulls up a random chair to sit and wait for you to talk. You told him everything. About how you are an experiment on legs, how you were from Alchemax, and that they were the people that really owned you. And you being a spider-person is just you doing as much as you can for the city you loved so dearly. How you only had three or less years to live with the serums you had hidden in your home. How you literally don't care if you die anytime before that, and you're doing your part in life that doesn't make you as useless as you thought you were.

Miguel watched you say all of this. He watched your face. He watched how you....really didn't care. You were so calm about all of these life threats that you continuously had hovering over your head. You live life every day as if it was your last. What if someone burned your house down? What if Alchemax found you?? What would happen to you then?

"I can help you. Lyla." He almost seemed to work on autopilot. "Bring me documents of the chemical makeup of my own serum for me. While you're at it, turn all of the equipment in Floor 4's laboratory on for me." All of his tech equipment were back on again as he pulled his own serum, meant for next week, out of his drawer. "Miguel...?" "Y/n, can you bring me one of your own serums? I'll be in the lab when you come back. Find me on the fourth floor. Lyla can show you the way."

"Miguel!" He pauses and looks down at you. You shake your head as a shaky smile is brought to your face. "I don't need you to do this for me. I'm fine with the way things are." Miguel scrunches his face and steps towards you. "Qué? Te estás escuchando a ti mismo? Y/n, I don't want you to die. Nobody wants you to die. Y-you need to be here, No entiendes? Do you want to be a spider for the rest of your life, violently killing people the way you were taught? You can be given a regular life. A new life, here with me! You deserve more than just....being a machine. Because you're more than just a weapon. You're human."(What? Are you hearing yourself?)(Don't you understand?)

Miguel went too far with his speech. He said too much. Every word that continued to spill out of his lips dug him into a farther hole. You were crying, but it still didn't help the fact that you now know that he probably is infatuated with you. He tries to save face by saying more, but instead, his hand reaches out to wipe the tears off of your face. It couldn't possibly be real, the way you leaned into his touch. Your wet face touched his palm and he stuttered endlessly. Fuck, he had to get out of here.

"I'm sorry...I didn't mean to say that to you. It was unprofessional." You shake your head and lift your face out of his hands, staring up at him with those glistening eyelashes, your beautiful shiny eyes looking up at him. "No.....I'm glad you told me that. I.....thank you." He looks away bashfully and takes a step back....another....and then another until he walks off out of the cave to go down to the laboratory.

What is he going to do about you? He loves you too much to let you continue doing this horrible job. It was killing you.

Something feels off about this, but I am going to post it anyways because it's been bothering me like a collar tight around my neck all day. Needed this badly.

[natasha-in-space]

Okay so can you write about how it'd be like if yoosung was in a relationship with a male mc who is tall and very muscular (hes built like hulk) but is a very soft and gentle guy. Basically the definition of "gentle giant" and is extremely shy asf. He is also very clumsy and is a shit cook. I imagine when yoosung said that "please dont be afraid when u see me, im still the man who loves you" the mc felt the same. Like ofc yoosung knows hes a dude but he doesnt know how he looks.

Also i am thinking how it'd be like him introducing this dude he now is in a relationship with to his parents (i want to think the reaction is positive).

I just wanna imagine someone as petite as yoosung with a big guy

OUGH, anon, I LIVE for this kind of dynamic! You made me giggle and kick my legs with your ask.

While, yeah, I think Yoosung would be rather... surprised the first time they finally meet one another face to face, it's mostly just the natural reaction of unexpectedness, nothing negative. Yoosung simply had a bit of a softer image in mind, due to his MC's sweet and kind demeanor in chat and on the phone. You can't really help the fact that we naturally tend to assign certain characteristics to people we haven't met yet! He's definitely not dissatisfied, though. In fact, I think he'll find it rather adorable! It makes him feel a lot better to know that he wasn't the only one nervous about making a good first impression, and, in a way, this shared anxiety helps them both relax and laugh with each other after a while.

Yoosung will be looking up at this MC with stars in his eye and a huge smitten grin stretching his cheeks. And, once the initial surprise dissipates, he will end up asking MC plenty of questions, as well as offer some clumsy, but genuine compliments.

There's just something about a broadly built man that is apparently more attractive to him than he thought. Looks like there is some personal discovering to be made here! It's not solely based on appearance, though. (Although Yoosung definitely thinks about being picked up by his new boyfriend and being pampered without a care in the world). MC's soft and loving personality is also a huge focus of his affections. MC not threatening or off-putting to him in any way, and it is very easy for Yoosung to feel relaxed and open with him in even the most mundane of conversations.

His chest is filled with a small sense of pride as he talks to MC. What he did back at Mint Eye... he did it to protect MC and to prove to himself that he is capable of being the man he wants to be. Yoosung struggles with his masculinity at times, and, knowing that he managed to successfully protect MC, despite being on the smaller side... It makes him feel very good about himself. MC's direct mention of it in particular will make him giggle and rock on his heels in pride.

When it comes to the actual relationship between them, the dynamic is going to be rather endearing! I feel like Yoosung would be the more bold and outspoken one of the two of them. Yes, the 'Hey, he asked for no pickles!' type. It's adorable, really. Wherever MC is shy for any particular reason, Yoosung can be outgoing for both of them. It's really lovely to see. He'll be quick to slip into the conversation if he feels like MC needs some moral support, or he can be the one to call the shots full stop. MC doesn't have to worry about feeling awkward in public spaces with Yoosung there nearby. He got his boyfriend's back.

Subsequently, there will be a lot of physical affection between these two. It'll take them both some time to figure this out (as this is Yoosung's first real relationship), but, eventually, they both come to a mutual agreement that they actually quite enjoy the size difference they share with each other! MC never makes Yoosung feel as 'less of a man' for not being overly tall or muscular, and Yoosung makes it crystal clear that MC's kind and gentle heart is the most amazing thing about him. They are both completely at ease with each other, inside and out. So, when Yoosung admits to the fact that he'd like MC to carry him more often... It's the first step to many more similar instances to come.

Interestingly enough, I like to think of this MC as the little spoon of their relationship. It's certainly amusing to witness such a huge man nuzzle up into Yoosung's chest with a happy sigh, but it happens every day in their household. Meanwhile, Yoosung adores feeling his boyfriends strong arms circle around him, pulling him close to his chest, especially whenever he hugs him from behind in the morning, as he's preparing breakfast. (Too many meals were burnt due to him getting way too distracted by MC's comfy warmth and a desire to turn around and kiss him.).

It's a win-win situation!

In my opinion, Lisa will quickly make MC her favorite person. That kitty always finds a way for them to be together. She is always on his lap, happily purring away. And she always tries to sleep on him, despite his numerous attempts to gently put her down, since he's scared of accidentally hurting her in his sleep.

And, if this MC has a tendency to be clumsy? Yoosung will make an effort to catch him every time. And fail. The first time it happened, poor MC got so worried, he apologized to Yoosung for the entirety of that day. With time, Yoosung simply learns his boyfriend's body language well enough to see him about to stumble before it even happens. There won't be any fall incidents for them to fret about from then on.

Yoosung's mom is going to love MC. Mostly because he's such a softie. I'd like to imagine him always making an effort to help out Yoosung's mom with the chores or carrying around heavy things. Needless to say, she always hands him tons of homemade snacks whenever they come over. Yoosung is a bit flabbergasted at the way his mom coddles his boyfriend, but, hey, at least she definitely loves him! While Yoosung sister is going to tease her brother about MC being a 'big strong man'. It's all lighthearted and nothing ill-spirited, though. She sees how happy Yoosung is, and that's the most important thing in the world.

...In the end, she sleeps on his head.

[aamy2100982]

I have a my headcanon of Eddie when he was a kid:he was the total opposite of what he’s now as an adult so small,skinny,shy talk and a bit of a crybaby,he was a gentle,curious kid who loved to read,write and learning new things (cooking and foreign language).Unfortunately he was a lonely kid,who was bullied by many cause they say “he’s a freak” “they don’t want him”or even because Eddie doesn’t talk to much,since Eddie was pressured to get attention from his father many adults viewed him as the epitome of perfection but that drove more Eddie to feel not good enough and even as a teen while he appeared more muscular and bigger than many classmates he was still bullied,until one guy pressed him so much that Eddie bursts and basically that led that guy at the hospital and now more people are afraid of him,his sister included,now Eddie feels more isolated than before

I have a similar view of Eddie, very similar actually. Only that in my HC Eddie has always been a somewhat weird child, not "weird" for shy and quiet, more like "that child who always wants to be the center of attention, tries to like any adult who can give him a minimum of affection and that he always pretends to be better than the others" weird (behaviors that adult Eddie also has, but he is self-aware of this and uses it to his advantage so as not to have to help people he doesn't care about).

For this very reason Eddie used to be marginalized by his own peers. I'm sure Eddie was equally somewhat stoic, but always smiling, appearing to be steady and happy (which he couldn't be inside his house). I'm sure Eddie's dad was rubbish to raise and probably told him things like:

You shouldn't cry, men don't cry. You should be respectful to your elders. Keep quiet when they talk to you. Speak loud and clear, I don't like your babbles. Smile, people don't want to see a sad child. Stand tall or you'll ruin your back. You're not allowed to move from this table until you finish your homework and other things that are the reason why, even though Eddie has such low self-esteem, he has never stopped looking serious and stoic, never with his head down, always upright before everyone.

That same firm and responsible personality that he had formed made the adults around him set him as the example child. Eddie probably learned new things (on an intellectual level) to impress other people, but about cooking and stuff, I'm sure Eddie was doing it because his dad didn't give a shit about feeding his son. (I even have this HC that from a certain age Carl simply stopped paying Eddie for non-trivial things like clothes, food or school supplies. If Eddie wanted to have nice things then he had to earn them himself)

I think that even though Eddie grew up tall and stocky (I don't imagine him muscular in adolescence, because when I think of Eddie muscular, I think of his first facet as a Spiderman villain) he suffered from bullying because it was easy to put him off his pedestal, Eddie didn't know how to protect himself because he shrank away when he was hit, which he learned, staying still when his father scolded him until he stopped (I think Eddie never received physical damage from his father, but a lot of psychological damage) Probably in adolescence either he had a specific bully, similar to what Peter had with Flash or in general his classmates liked to pick on him because Eddie was the brainiac of the class.

But something about him that I totally agree with is that Eddie did explode and hurt someone in the process. There is this arc where they explain to us how Eddie accidentally ran over a child, leaving him with serious injuries and lying in court to avoid having to pay the child's hospital expenses, even though this did not happen because Eddie had exploded and let out his anger. Rather, it was an accident that gave Eddie the first step toward becoming a killer who doesn't take responsibility for his own mistakes.

But let's skip that part of the canon for a second and pretend that what happened is that Eddie punched that guy. Many boys formed a circle watching how the school nerd beat up some random bully, they all watch carefully how he is a polite and respectful child, he simply takes the reins in the whole situation.

Mary is not canon, she is a character completely created by Symby and I think that makes this situation even worse, because Eddie is completely alone, with a complaint and a hospital bill that he has to pay, but as a minor, is his father who has to pay it. We could repeat the actions of the canon, Carl forcing Eddie to lie in court so as not to have to pay for the hospital and go unpunished for the complaint. Before, Eddie was isolated by his classmates, but now he isolates himself.

His classmates think Eddie is cool because he stood up to the school bully, but Eddie is so scared of himself, he doesn't know what to make of what happened. He send a guy to the hospital, if before his father hated him now it's much worse because he was left with a debt to pay the lawyer, Eddie is ruined, he still hears the guy's pleas in his head, bleeding knuckles and the adrenaline of the moment , it was so horrible and strangely satisfying, for the first time in his life he expressed the feelings he felt, for the first time he did something because he wanted to do it and not because he was told to do it.

This is the first time I answer a question (although in theory it is not a question) Thank you <3

[thecottageinthedark]

#Sonic Worlds AU#basically AU of Shadow as an unaging immortal who's nonetheless been trying to pass as a 'normal guy'#Vanilla does not scare easily and she has been basically trying to stop this guy from self-destructing in private#with the also side header of Vanilla's had an interesting life herself and takes a studious interest in mr. Mysterious Vibes Dangerous Past#also for a guy who doesn't take care of himself he's rather muscular

Okay hold absolutely everything- I wanna hear about your au Shadow and Vanilla crackship, I'm very intrigued.

[deep breath]

Okay so. Several factors afoot here.

Vanilla is basically a local community leader. She runs a bakery/family restaurant and both employs and manages charity work for a lot of people. In the 'less fashionable' oldtown district of Starlight City, just about everybody knows Vanilla. She is Connected.

This also means she is busy, which, as a single mother with a rambunctious adopted child, does mean she makes SOME arrangements for Cream, who cannot play soccer in abandoned lots all the time, and there's only so many times you can get a kid a tetanus booster before the consensus comes in that Someone should keep an eye on the kid.

Incidentally, Vanilla living close to century-old prefab housing means some of her neighbors are Interesting. One of them is Shadow, who was able to buy out not just the particular unit for sale but enough of the prefab structure that he basically owns his own 'townhouse' and has turned the basement into his personal machine shop.

Nobody really know what Shadow's deal is. Most of the people Vanilla talks to do not know when exactly he blew into town. He is, most concede, Older Than He Looks because he's got the physique of a spry 20something but offhandedly references being there for events that are at least thirty to forty years ago. It's also a general consensus that he's almost definitely here illegally and tends to disappear any time someone particularly official is too close for his comfort. He Does Not Get Out Much, sleeps irregularly, and makes psychiatrists home in like bloodhounds on the scent within ten paces of most of his habits.

Needless to say, not what most people would consider ideal babysitter material. But Cream managed to kick a ball through one of his windows on a dare, and the bewildered enigma thus summoned awake at 3pm cleaned up the broken glass and patched the ball, nominally so she'd leave him alone, and told her to play somewhere else without particular anger.

Vanilla does not really believe Shadow thinks of her as a friend, but she believes very strongly in being Neighborly, and, every now and then paying him to watch Cream is an easy arrangement and also a pretense to make sure he doesn't spend too much time alone in the dark with his thoughts as seems to be his prerogative.

Cream thinks Mr. Shadow is terribly sad, and not always polite, but sometimes people struggle to be polite when they're feeling bad, and he seems to be feeling bad almost all the time.

Shadow thinks the kid is alright, and her mom is somewhere between a little too nosy for his comfort and one of the rare listening ears he almost opens up to before he reminds himself not to do anything that means he'll have to leave town even faster than normal.

He's already been here too long.

[thathetaliablogg]

I I personally really really like your hairstyle and the way you personify these basttard nations, and I especially love your use of body types.

Like YES ARTHUR IS A STICK, yes France is t h I c c as well as a lil chubby and both Arthur and I love it.

But if you would, regale us with your thoughts for either their body types or anyone elses in this fuckin show

I like my hairstyle too if we're being honest, I cut it myself >:) Hehehe jokes aside though, thank you!!! :) Im rly glad you like my artstyle but im also really glad you like the body types I give to the cast!! I'm even happier u want me to talk abt it because i do have some thoughts HKDJHGFJ

Gonna start with Arthur and I think he IS a goddamn stick insect but he hasn't always been that way!! Actually for a lot of his life I think he was quite heavy and beefy, he kept himself that way on purpose and maintaining strength and the image of it was VERY important to him! He had pronounced muscles at one point and that lasted for a while! I think he started to slim down in the last couple hundred years and it was a slow enough process at first that nobody really noticed! He then lost most of his muscle mass in the last century or so and he actually quite likes his current, slim build. He doesn't exert as much exercise nor does he need the same physical strength, and Francis makes sure that he eats well whenever he's around but Arthur has a quick metabolism and weight won't really stay on him the way it used to. He doesn't mind or care, really!

Francis has a medium amount of body fat and I see him as a gorgeous mid-size monarch, but again, he wasn't always like that. I think Francis was actually quite skinny for a while and put on weight later in his life as he started making and eating better food and especially desserts! For a while and still today, because of shit beauty standards Francis has found himself insecure about his tendency to put on weight and has put himself on restrictive diets to lose it only to put it back on immediately after (since those diets do NOT work!). He's beat himself up about it before since his appearance is so important to his self image and how valuable he sees himself to be. Arthur adores his body though and thinks his curves are stunning :') In the past couple of years Francis has been much kinder to himself and his body so he is healing in that aspect!

Alfred has always been STRONNGGGG and he's always been muscular!! His current body type is a healthy combination of body fat and muscle - he's one of those guys who looks as if he has a lot of body fat and no muscle mass until he flexes and reveals the muscle mass underneath! He's obviously a big eater but he works out a lot too and overall just has a very strong but very healthy balance!

Kiku has always been lean and prefers not to be overly built up or muscular like some of the others - but he does have visible muscular structure underneath his clothes despite his otherwise slim appearance. He's broad at the shoulders too and his upper body is where most of his strength is! He tends to put on and lose weight almost seasonally, since he goes for a lot of walks and exercise in warmer months but stays in snacking and laying around in colder months!

Ludwig is just ripped, he works out, eats a rather low carb diet most of the time, and is kind of obsessed with healthy food and doing lots of exercise. He mostly lifts weights and is all muscle mass with very little fat on his body. he has big boobs

Feliciano is almost the opposite of Ludwig, he doesn't have much muscle mass at all but has a high amount of body fat! He likes to lie around, take naps, eat a loooot of pasta and similar food so his lifestyle does affect his body! He's just as healthy as anyone else though, with his round stature and squishy body :)

Yao is actually kind of muscular but not to the level of say, Lud or Alfred, he enjoys working out but also likes having a slim appearance at the same time so he is pretty buff but he's no bodybuilder...

Ivan lastly is kind of similar to Alfred where he has quite a lot of muscle mass but also a lot of body fat! His high amount of body fat helps keep him warm in winter but the combination of those two things makes him look as if he's built like a brick wall and definitely adds to the overall massive feel that he has to him!!

[s-brant]

Pirates and Princesses (8/8)

(gif: @beccs) (PART SEVEN) (SERIES MASTERLIST)

Summary: JJ must confront his childhood trauma when returning home for the first time since his dad went to jail and prevent it from sabotaging his new relationship. Meanwhile, something sinister happens at the Chateau that brings Y/N face to face with her grief over John B’s death.

Word Count: 13.4k

Warnings: Angst, implied sexual content, strong language, parent/child abuse, mental illness, post-traumatic stress disorder, grief, and fluff.

A/N: Welcome to the final chapter of Tokens! This one has a little bit of everything in it, but it also has detailed scenes about JJ and his dad, so proceed with caution if you’re easily triggered by that topic. The love you guys show this fic warms my heart so much, so thanks to anyone who stuck with this story until this chapter. Hope you enjoy it!

Now that she has been sentenced to both punishments, one as a consequence of the fight with Kacey and the other as a consequence of the stunt she pulled with JJ to break out of ISS, Y/N can confidently say that out of school suspension is superior to in-school suspension by a long shot. Instead of sitting in a humid room with Alec for the duration of multiple school days, she's allowed to stay home, go out surfing, and do whatever she wants in lieu of doing classwork.

She promised herself not to make it a habit, promising the invisible presence of John B that she likes to pretend follows her around that she will never get herself into trouble again, but she sees no problem in enjoying her suspension while it lasts.

For the first few days of her suspension, JJ skipped school to spend it with her. Their memories of the conversation they had at three in the morning on Sunday were fuzzy, but not missing entirely. She noticed a difference in his behavior for the first few hours after they woke up under the tree together for the second time in one week. It wasn't a difference in their relationship or how he treated her, it was a difference in him.

He was quieter than usual as they cleaned up cans of beer and tossed them into the recycling, sending pictures to Kie while she was in class after she made them promise not to throw them in the trash. Rather than cracking jokes or making casual conversation with her, JJ made his way around the yard with the recycling bin in his hands and his head in the clouds. It disappeared as the day progressed, but for a little while, he wasn't completely there.

Today, he went into school instead of ditching to spend extra time with her in between shifts at work and time spent with their friends. Since they can't exceed three consecutive absences without a doctor’s note and he doesn't own a printer or laptop to forage the header from a doctor's office, he had no choice but to part from her this morning.

He bites his lip to contain his smug facial expression at the recollection of her wake up call for him. The hand holding his locker door open for him to lean on in the midst of his not-so-wholesome thoughts of her squeezes the metal hard enough to turn his knuckles white.

The curtains weren't shut all the way when they fell asleep before midnight last night, allowing a shaft of sunlight to shine in and land on his face. But that wasn't what woke him up from the dream he was having. In fact, the reality he opened his eyes to was a hell of a lot better than any dream he remembered.

Most of his memory of those moments spent suspended between consciousness and unconsciousness consisted of feeling her pressing a kiss to his shoulder, then her hands rubbing up and down his waist to slip lower and lower until they settled on the waistband of his underwear. It was then that he woke to find her looking up at him for permission from where she peppered kisses along his chest.

Their eyes met right as she kissed the edge of his nipple with this pleading, needy look that he took pride in causing without actively attempting to. She woke up on the brink of coming undone from a pleasant—to put it tamely—dream about him. With a glimpse at the time displayed on the alarm clock, it didn't take much for her to roll over to wake him up.

It ended with her beneath the sheet, finishing what she started Friday afternoon until he was clutching the pillow beneath his head in the midst of his orgasm. It happened so fast, a fault of how hot he found it to wake up to her wanting him so badly, but it felt slower than it truly was in the early morning haze of exhaustion they felt.

The memory as he relives it is as heady as it felt the first time around. He sees it in fractions; her eyes looking up at his, warm palms finding the familiar planes of his muscular body with the exploratory touch of someone who's never traveled it before, and the intense sensations he felt at the end...It's easy for him to stand here and lose himself in it. Despite the class he has to go to, he bargains with himself for one more second spent in the paradise of his memories before he has to come back to reality.

Reality, as his shitty luck would have it, comes in the form of a familiar feminine voice chirping from behind his back as he replays his morning bliss.

"It's good to see you're alive and well, Maybank."

He decides, based on who he knows he'll see when he turns around, that he might invest in a sharpie to write "Bang head here" on the inside of his locker door for instances like these where he'd rather suffer brain damage than speak to someone he can't stomach the presence of.

When he turns to see Kacey with one arm still stretched to hold his locker open, he doesn't bother concealing the genuine reaction from his face for the sake of her feelings. Any care he had for her and her feelings was thrown to the wind as soon as she decided she could steal from and put her hands on his girl last week. However, after a second of thought, a condescending smirk finds its way to his face.

He says, jerking his chin to vaguely gesture at her bruised up face, "Purple really suits your complexion. It makes your eyes pop, don't you think?"

Though the swelling of her black eye has deflated in the days since the fight that’ll soon tally up to a week, the verbal jab hits right where it intended to if the light leaving her eyes tells him anything. She bounces back after a second, though, ever the relentless pest they've come to see her as.

She offers a sickeningly sweet, yet fake smile to mirror the one gracing his striking features and spins so her back meets the locker beside his, allowing herself to invade his space further.

A collection of Y/N's stickers decorates the inside of his locker door that he briefly entertained the idea of designating as a place to bang his head against. They range from girly, glittery ones to those he willingly picked when she gave him the choice. Whenever they're at his locker together, she sticks one on the inside, and the evidence of the habit catches Kacey's wandering eyes.

Her fingertips brush against the surface of the sticker-covered metal while she ignores his protest of, "Can you not touch my stuff?" to inspect them. Since one of the Pogues in particular is famous for her endless supply of stickers, her expression sours at the thought of the girl responsible for them.

She spares him a quick glance out of the corner of her eye as she continues to analyze the sticker collection against his instructions not to, asking, "Why weren't you at the bonfire?" A failed attempt at a seductive look in his direction makes him fight not to roll his eyes. "After how last year's ended, I thought you wouldn't miss it for the world."

JJ doesn't bother to take a second to think things through before he reaches to slam the door closed with her hand still outstretched inside of it. Watching her pull it away just in time to avoid jamming it in the locker probably pleases him more than it should, but he can't help it. His hand catches on the edge of the door, halting it in place right before it closes where her hand previously rested.

She doesn't look too happy with him when he opens the door with no harm done except for the drop of her stomach when he initially pretended to swing it shut on her bruised knuckles. She didn't get many shots in on Y/N when they fought, but apparently it was enough.

He doesn't bother with the fake niceties she's giving him after the disrespect she showed him, his friends, and, most importantly, his girlfriend. The fact that she thinks she has any right to breathe in his direction, let alone flirt with him, after she stole JB's bandana is criminal. 'Cause not only did she mess with Y/N, she messed with John B on multiple levels, and his loyalty to his best friend hasn't disappeared with death. Kie and Y/N told him everything she said about their departed friend in the locker room last Thursday.

But he's smart enough to know what'll hurt her more, so he doesn't go for the general scolding he imagined giving her in his head. Since he was told everything about the encounter in the locker room, he knows she's still holding their history together near and dear to her heart.

"We stayed home," he says, casual and cool as always, with added emphasis on the first word, "You know how it is, my girl doesn't like parties. Especially not ones with kooks."

Hook, line, and sinker.

She scoffs, "Your girl?"

Looking at her now, he wonders if she was always this stupid, or if this is a new development she's had in the year since he last spent more than a minute or two at a time with her. It’s easier to trick her than it was with Kie and Y/N a few days ago, and those poor girls flew into that trap like moths to a flame.

"That's what I said, isn't it?"

The ire is visible in the way her face tenses up in places, her lips pressing together a little more firmly and her forehead creasing between the brows.

"Doesn't your, um, history bother her?" she asks, and he's gotta give her credit for being a sneaky little shit when given the chance. The girl takes every possible opening she can to strike for a potential weakness. "No offense, but you kinda get around."

He shrugs this time, deciding to drop his casual act and aim straight for the jugular.

"She likes having someone who knows how to fuck her right, actually, but I really appreciate the concern."

Much like Kie's reaction to their matching tattoos in the hot tub the other night, her jaw is unhinged to meet the unswept hallway floor they stand on. It makes him wish Y/N weren't suspended in order for her to see the gobsmacked reaction Kacey has to the harsh dismissal. Though he wouldn't want to incite an extra round of the Kacey vs Y/N WWE showdown by having her watch another girl flirt with him and essentially call him a slut upon rejection, he knows she'd get a kick out of it.

This one's for you, baby, he thinks with a quiet laugh to himself and turns his focus to the sticker collection she so lovingly crafted.

There are plenty of summer themed ones left over from the same pack he gifted her for her birthday with the surfboard sticker she used to tease him, as well as a newer genre of Valentine's Day stickers she started using the closer they grew since first getting together. They're mostly different colored candy hearts with corny phrases ranging from "U SXY THING" to the classic "BE MINE" and one printed with "ANGEL" on it—his favorite by far.

However, others are random ones from her endless stash built up over the years from birthdays and holidays deemed worthy enough by her dad to stop by Dollar Tree for a new pack, so the one he sets his attention on is likely meant for teachers or coaches to give to their students. The opportunity appears too good to be true to him when it clicks, but it isn't.

He peels the sticker off of the locker door, careful not to disturb the ones around it, and leans in closer to her to place it on the front of her tank top.

"Leave us alone or I won't stop her next time," JJ says lowly, past the point of civility, then backs away to slam his locker shut for real this time as his voice raises back to a normal volume, "And keep John B's name out of your mouth, got it?"

All she can do is look down at the sticker placed on her shirt with squinted eyes to try and read it while he walks off in the direction of his next class. It tears away from the fabric with a soft noise, and when she finally reads it, she rolls her eyes.

“Good Try!”

​​Walking out of school to see the Twinkie parked in the usual spot Y/N takes when she isn't suspended is a delightful treat he didn't know to expect after a rough day in class and his run in with Kacey. His head was hung low on his way to Kie's car to hitch a ride to his house before going home to the Chateau, since he had some things to pick up with his dad out of the picture for the near future, but then he heard her greet them.

JJ's body melts into hers upon contact, and he nearly pushes her up against the closed passenger side door of the van with how hard he hugs her. Though he doesn't want to acknowledge it, his dad has been living in his thoughts more than usual today. Ever since he texted him goodbye, he's been withdrawn inside of his head more and more, and after today's inconveniences, the rising anxiety of his plan to visit home has him two seconds from losing his mind.

Her eyes widen at his zeal, meeting Kie's concerned gaze from over the shoulder she rests her chin on. She stands with her keys swinging around her finger as she watches the couple embrace one another. In an answer to the silent question Y/N asks her in their stare, her lips mouth the words, "His dad," to her.

Deep down, Y/N had a feeling.

It began with his impromptu request to run away with her a few days ago and extended into his uncharacteristically reserved attitude the next morning that receded somewhat, but has yet to fully disappear. There is a part of her that's upset that he hasn't come to her to talk about it, to communicate the way they swore they would, yet she also knows it isn't that simple.

She has to remind herself that she knew what she was getting herself into with him. That's not to say that dating her must be a walk in the park for him, it isn't.

She knows based on the amount of times he had to hold her as she cried, or the time he curtailed her panic attack in this very parking lot, that she hasn't made it easy for him in the aftermath of John B's death. But it's because she knows how it feels that she has such patience with his communication issues.

It's not a conscious choice most times, it's an involuntary blockage preventing the words from being spoken no matter how desperately they long to be. They may have made a promise, but she won't chastise him for succumbing to the same pitfalls as her. It’d be hypocritical.

"Bad day?" she asks.

Her voice is tender with him, prodding gently for a clue as to why he pounced on her on sight. He sinks further into her arms at the sound and lets the sanctity of her touch sway him into submission. Everything about her sets him at ease, if only for a second. Her hand lifts the beat-up red hat from his head to allow the other to brush through his hair.

There's a hum of agreement that she feels vibrating through the center of his chest into hers, and her arms pull tighter around his shoulders in response. This time, when she looks up to see Kie there, she's waving a quick goodbye and setting off toward her car, clearly giving JJ the space he needs.

"We can go to the beach," she says softly, "I have a towel in the back of the van, we can just lay there and talk about it if you want."

The idea of her kind offer to him should add to the comfort he finds in her embrace. It should make him nod and whisper his gratitude to her for being the one person that knows him better than anyone, but it brings him back to the gloomy headspace he was in before seeing her.

It started as a minor distraction when he first arrived at school after carpooling with Kie. It followed him in the quieter moments, only making appearances when he wasn't distracted with more pressing matters. It began as that and built the closer the day came to ending. The sooner his inevitable visit back to his childhood home came, the more he lost himself in his fear, reverting back to a state of helplessness he now occupies with no small amount of shame.

His bottom lip trembles with the urge to cry.

"Can we stop somewhere on the way home first?"

The last place she expected him to drive the Twinkie is here.

As they made their way down each street, taking each turn necessary to bring them closer to the house he seldom let her go to over the course of their lifelong friendship, she felt her heart begin to race. And now, as the van rolls to a stop in the yard in front of his house, she has swallow back the lump in her throat at the sight of it.

She has only been here a few times.

The first time, she was seven years old.

It was a sweltering summer morning in the Outer Banks for her and John B as they set off to retrieve their friend after he missed their plans to meet up at the Chateau for a day of having fun, riding bikes, and playing on the boat. Pirates and Princesses was her favorite game to play with them because JJ would switch roles with her halfway through when she grew tired of being the damsel John B had to rescue from the most cruel and vicious Captain Jesse James Maybank.

The HMS Pogue would rock beneath his feet as he marched across the deck of the boat and took her place as the kidnapped Princess Routledge. He handed off his "sword" to her, a stick he found in the yard, and stood at the edge of the boat with his hands behind his back as though he were a tied up damsel in distress for her to hold captive. The sun setting behind them laid a picturesque backdrop that made the scene all the more vivid to their imaginative young minds.

The boat floated in the afternoon current as John B approached the pair with his best pretend face of worry for the fair Princess Maybank, who had the sharp sword of the pirate queen pressing into his throat with the threat of death should he have tried to escape.

Sometimes, she'd let John B advance on them and tie make believe rope around her wrists and ankles while he and Princess Maybank claimed their victory. Other times, they'd get backed up until the heels of her sneakers hung off the edge of the slippery deck. One move from her brother would have her yell something along the lines of not taking either of them alive, then she'd let her and JJ fall back into the marsh together with gleeful laughs infiltrating the humid air upon their return to the surface.

On the day he didn't show up, none of that happened. She and John B rode their bikes together along sidewalks until they pulled into a driveway marked with the address number he remembered from the other time he sought him out to play before.

Y/N didn't understand what they were hearing when they pushed their kickstands down and called out for their friend, but John B's little face blanched at the sound flooding out of the opened windows of the dilapidated yellow house. It was a combination of banging against the walls, glass shattering, and childlike shouts of frustration and pain. Her big brother placed himself in front of her protectively when the front door opened and smacked against the side of the house, but it wasn't his dad storming out of the house, it was JJ.

His eyes widened at the sight of the siblings standing there, and his heart dropped to his stomach at the realization that they heard it. Maybe not all of it, but based on how the girl peeking out around John B's shoulder looked at him, they heard some.

The van is parked in the exact same place their bikes once were, the exact place she and John B stood years ago when they were first confronted with the harsh reality about their best friend's home life, and he looks like he has fully backpedaled into the state of mind his childhood self inhabited. Even when he turns the key in the ignition and lets the rumbling engine sputter down in silence, he sits in the driver's seat with his lip drawn between his teeth in thought.

Yet as soon as she summons the courage to say something, he takes a deep breath and opens the door without a warning or the typical instruction for her to stay in the car. He doesn't tell her to follow him in, nor does he order her to stay out as he used to when his dad still lived inside. He gives her the choice to make on her own, and, when faced with the opportunity to support him or stay outside like the confused little girl she once was, she chooses the first option.

Her swift steps kick dirt up from the earth onto her ankles as she follows him out of the van to the front steps of the house. She tries not to make her concern for him as evident as it'd be without her intervention on her way up the porch, but it's impossible to erase every sign of it from her face.

It isn't a particularly special or scary house. It's a normal home that'd likely look more inviting if JJ were still living here to mow the lawn and tend to the household upkeep his father saddled him with since he was old enough to be put to work. But she knows better than to trust the street appeal. As he takes her hand to lead them through the threshold of the haunted structure, she is overcome with a sense of creeping trepidation that she can't shake.

"You're sure he isn't here?" she asks.

The entryway is crowded with stacks of mail his father wasn’t bothered to open, as well as empty cardboard boxes that once held cans of beer that are scattered, empty, in various places around the house. Her question is answered by the state of the rooms they breeze past in the direction of his bedroom, but she needed something to say to fill the silence. With them, they usually don’t feel uncomfortable not speaking to each other, but this feels different.

The way he stares out in front of him with his hand squeezing hers hard enough to cut off circulation unnerves her more than the tainted energy of the house itself. He isn't himself. He's a shell of the JJ they know and love, the JJ who is most comfortable tucked away in the safe walls of the Chateau with their friends, not here. If anything, how he is while he's here is the antithesis of his behavior while living with her.

Ever since John B died, he's practically moved in with her. When they're hidden away in her house without the reminders of his home life in sight, he's usually the caretaker of the relationship. It comes naturally to their dynamic, both with him being slightly older and his promise to take care of her, but everything is flipped here. It's an alternate reality for him, or, perhaps, actual reality smacking him in the face after a carefully constructed two months in utopia with her.

They come to a stop in front of his closed bedroom door.

"He's gone," he says, not even sparing a glance at her for reasons she can't decipher, "He texted me a few days ago to say goodbye."

With that, he turns the doorknob and lets the door swing open to reveal the bedroom she only saw one other time.

The second time, she was thirteen years old.

It was a Friday.

Since his dad was supposed to be at work, they stopped at his house on their way home from school exactly like they did today so he could share with their friends what he got from his cousin the night before. Being the good girl she was, she didn't even know what he was showing her when he dug it out of the backpack in the bottom of his closet.

Her brows furrowed at the ziploc bag, more specifically the contents inside of it. She was knelt down on the floor in front of the opened closet door with her shoulder pressed up against his to inspect it. The dried green cluster of a plant didn't look like anything she'd seen before, and she couldn't help but ask him what the hell it was rather than react the way he knew the others would.

"What is it? It looks like dried up moss."

JJ laughed and pulled another bag with rolling papers and a grinder stowed inside.

"It's weed. My cousin Ricky gave me a discount since—"

He halted mid-sentence abruptly enough to startle her, his head turning in the direction of where he heard a trunk pulling up to the front of the house. Her stare was still set on where he was holding the plastic bags in his hands, and she noticed, after he stopped speaking in reaction to his dad coming home, that his hands began trembling. It was so minimal, she almost didn't catch it until she saw the bag wavering under the light coming in from his window.

Before she could open her mouth to say anything more, she felt his hands on her shoulders shoving her into the closet. He followed in closely behind her and crawled in until they were both crammed into the confined space together. With the closet doors shut in front of them, he clamped a hand over her mouth, whispering in her ear for her to be quiet.

She stands with her arms crossed over herself in the center of his room, and though nothing has yet to be said or done to convince her anything is wrong, that's the exact reason why she feels so unnerved by the entire experience of coming here.

He's silent.

The closet doors are wide open as he stuffs the rest of the clothes he had yet to bring to the Chateau into the biggest bag he could find. He rips through his belongings in a fit of melancholy driven anger. His thoughts are swirling with similar memories to the ones she conjures from being here again, but his are tinged with a darkness hers don't have, even with hearing him crying in pain as a child and hiding in the closet with his hand smothering her mouth to evade his dad.

JJ visibly grimaces at the memories he's forced to relive in flashes with every glimpse he gets of the room he spent so much time hiding in. It used to be more tolerable to be here, or at least easier to suffer through. At least he was used to it before, but he got so accustomed to life somewhere else that the second he was confronted with coming back, he started to fall apart.

Whatever he can't live without, he finds space for it in the bag and prepares to leave the rest behind. But every object he touches and step he takes around the room brings him back to the person who he spent his adolescence simultaneously fleeing and wanting more from. More notably, it brings him back to the train of thought that has been nagging him ever since he texted him over the weekend.

The third and final time she came here was over the summer.

It happened right before Hurricane Agatha waged war on the island, when none of the Pogues heard from JJ for two days after he said he had to go home to help his dad with something. She didn't want to track him down to his house after they went over twenty-four hours without a single message. She didn't want to have to go back to the house that gave her chills to think about, let alone go to again after they hid in his closet when they were younger, but he gave her no other choice.

What was she supposed to do except go check on him where he last said he'd be? After all, if she lived in the hazardous environment he did, he'd do the exact same for her. If their friends were involved in her thoughts at the time, they would've gone out on a limb to say he would've gone beyond what she did to protect her if the situation were flipped. If he knew someone was hurting her, he would've come in swinging first and asked questions later, but, in her defense, he strictly told her to never come back to his house. By walking over in the first place, she was breaking one of the fundamental rules of their friendship.

Nevertheless, she found herself crouching around the side of his house to find his bedroom window and check if he was in there. Kie and Pope weren't aware of what was happening with his dad yet, but she and John B accidentally found out years ago, so she wasn't wondering why he wasn't answering them, she was wondering if he was alive.

Part of her truly thought underneath it all that Luke might've killed him. He might've been too drunk or high and went too far when beating him, too far to the point where he didn't want to risk going to jail to take him to the hospital for help. She couldn't live with herself if she didn't check, and if he got pissed at her for showing up against his wishes and didn't want to speak to her ever again, she could live with that.

She knocked on his window in a cadenced beat loud enough for it to heard through the room but not any further. After the first series of knocks, no one came to the window. It ripped her heart to pieces to wonder if she'd see him again as she continued to knock and allowed the sound to increase in volume in hopes that maybe he was asleep, but it didn't bring anyone to the window.

It wasn't until she turned back around to go to the front of the house again that she bumped right into the solid wall of his chest and was pushed back up against the house. The question of what she was doing there was on the tip of his tongue, but she said something that stopped him from asking it.

Her arms were thrown around his shoulders in a desperate bear hug.

"Oh God, JJ, you scared me half to death!" she cried into the front of his shirt, "I thought he killed you!"

He can't help but think of it as he packs his belongings away for a final time to bid his hellish childhood home goodbye: What kind of life are they going to have together if they can't get off this island? Running away may have been an idealistic drunken fantasy for him to entertain after his conversation with Pope got him to admit his true feelings for her, but they both know his consistency can't be trusted.

One moment, he's planning to tell her. The next, a day like today comes along, sweeps his legs out from beneath his body, and he's questioning whether it's worth it to force her to put up with his fickle commitment to her. It isn't fair to her, is it?

Right now is just about when he'd normally start to hyperventilate with an oncoming wave of panic, and he does, but he can't let it fully sweep into him with her here. He fights the urge to smack his head with the heel of his palm, as if that'd forcibly remove the poisonous thoughts infiltrating his mind and ruining the careful work they've done together to remedy their issues with communicating their feelings.

Just like you ruin everything, a thought whispers in the corner of his mind. What made you think this would be any different?

His actions around the room have turned somewhat aimless and distracted, which she notices as soon as he starts to disintegrate into a mess of heavy breaths and self-sabotaging thoughts. She picks up on the shift in his energy as soon as the anxiety starts to wash over him, and she'll be damned if she continues to stand here quietly to let it happen.

It's one thing if he's being silent because being here upsets him, or if he simply doesn't know what to say, but she refuses to let him tailspin into a mental breakdown without doing something to stop it. Whether he knows it or not, after what they went through with him trying to push her away last week, she knows what's occurring within his mind right now.

He flinches at the feeling of her hand grabbing his shoulder to turn him to face her at first, and when she reaches again with her other hand to try to hold his hand as he cries, he shrugs off her touch.

"JJ..." she lets the solemn sound of her own voice murmuring his name trail off, "it's just me."

His head shakes at her consoling words. Everything else inside of his mind is so earth-shatteringly loud, he can't drown it out with logic or reason to bring himself away from the memories of his dad. Those intrusive thoughts keep attacking him with doubled, then tripled force the harder he tries to resist them, and he's so exhausted from it. All of it—the memories, his dad going to jail, and his inability to accept her love to its fullest extent without convincing himself she'll abandon him—is exhausting.

This time, when she rests her hand on his shoulder, he swats it away as the frustration of today crushing him with the force of an avalanche. Not to hurt or scare her, but to get her hands off of him before he bursts out of his skin with the sickness it stirs in his stomach. So detached from himself, he anticipates pain from every touch she gives him, and he knows it hurts her.

JJ hardly recognizes his own voice as he backs away from her a step and says, "Don't."

He can tell it hurts her based on how she looks at him immediately after, but he can't handle being touched right now. How did this happen so quickly? It was overwhelming when they first parked outside, but as soon as he stepped foot inside, it was as if a switch was flipped inside of him and all of the buried feelings he kept hidden over the past two weeks exploded into this.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—"

"You need to leave. I just-I can't breathe and"—He still refuses to look up from the ground or see her face as he paces around the room with no real intent in mind—"You can't see me like this."

That is what breaks her out of her soft spoken, timid attitude to handle the situation the way it needs to be handled. Their natural dynamic worked best for him to take charge when she had her panic attack because JJ acts first and thinks later. He saw that she was in distress and jumped in to help her before things got worse rather than allowing her to keep him at an arms length where he couldn't do anything about it.

Taking a page from his rule book, she takes action.

The room surrounding them is in a state of disarray from him searching through it for the items of clothing and objects now stashed in his duffel bag. There are multiple obstacles in her way as she steps between them like navigating a minefield to reach him after he backed away in instinctual fear, but they don't stop her from reaching him. Nothing could.

Y/N walks right up to him and reaches to grasp his face between her hands, forcing him to stop pacing around and actually look at her for the first time since they arrived her so he hears what she says. To say the least, the way he looks right now is enough to make her cry. There are tears welled up to the brims of his blue eyes, his lips are downturned with his sobs, and he's staring at her like she's about to strike him.

She says it as slowly and clearly as she needs to get it through his head, "He's not here," and before he manages to squeeze out another word of doubt between his rapid inhalations, she cuts in, "Take deep breaths."

He isn't listening to her.

The movement of his chest that hits hers from how close they stand to each other has yet to settle into the familiar pace she remembers from nights of falling asleep with the rhythm of his breaths beneath her head.

Her eyes search his face frantically, from left to right and top to bottom, for any sign of the person she's known for years, but she doesn't see him. Instead, she sees the same panicked child her and John B saw the first time they visited this house. It's uncanny how similar the expression in his face is. It feels to her as if she's been hurled back in time to the moment itself, and when she tries to think about what would've worked with him back then, she doesn't know what else to do except help him escape.

So, with the helplessness of having to watch him turn into a sobbing, incoherent mess, she decides to step into the darkness with him and do what seven year old Y/N would've done. Just like their games of make believe, of pirates and princesses, she assumes the role John B would have and rescues him from what holds him captive. It’s his own mind in this case, but, in the physical sense, it's the house.

She drops her hands from his face and takes his hand in hers to drag him out of the room. The packed bag sits on the floor in their wake as she pulls him back through the bedroom door and into the living room, not caring about what they came here to do.

It doesn't matter anymore.

The various rooms of his dad's house pass by them in a blur as she leads him down the hallway to the front door with one sole objective in mind: get him out of here. If he wants his stuff to bring back to the Chateau, she'll go back inside and get whatever he needs her to, but she isn't letting him inside of this house again. Not under her watch.

Thankfully, since he is undeniably stronger than her and she wouldn't have stood a chance, he doesn't fight it. He stumbles after her guiding hand the same way he always has, just like how he followed her back to the Chateau after she and John B saw him that day when they were kids. She led the way as he sat on the handlebars of her brother's bike, and he watched her hair flutter in the wind with the momentum of their bicycle spokes until the tears dried up.

He watches her drag him out of the home until they've reached the safety of the yard at the bottom of the porch steps, and as soon as the soles of her shoes meet the dirt, she feels his hand slipping out of hers.

"JJ?"

She turns around to see him clutching his chest, rubbing his hand along the front of his shirt over his heart as though it'll loosen up the tightened muscles preventing him from catching his breath. His body weight is leaned onto the railing of the porch steps for support. He's partially slumped on it, looking at her desperately, like she somehow knows the answer to every question screamed inside of his head, and she has never felt as useless.

"You're gonna leave," JJ says through the gasps and cries that leave his cheeks stained with tears.

When she reaches out again to help him remain upright without leaning over the railing, he doesn't shove her hands away as he did inside of his bedroom. It's a small battle won, but she takes it as a win nonetheless.

"What are you saying? I'm right here, I'm not going anywhere—"

"You're gonna leave! Everybody does! My mom, John B, my dad, and you"—his head falls to look at the ground instead of her, and she watches him work through it in his head—"I mean, look at me. You don't want this."

"Don't tell me what I want," she says.

Her voice remains as steady and calm as she can force it to be amidst the turbulent situation, but the way he said it...It takes her right back to sitting in the back of the Twinkie with him at the Cherry Bowl, except it's ten times worse. That felt like a break up, but based on what he's saying, this is one. She hasn't prepared herself for the heartache she feels in response to it.

"You don't want me, you just think you do 'cause I was there after John B died, but you don't. You're gonna go off, find some perfect guy that isn't as fucked up as me, and have a great life somewhere else, but it ain't here," JJ says, his breathing evening out with the distraction of the argument to keep him tethered tor reality, "And it won't be with me."

He can see it every time he's looked at her and debated saying those three titular words that have been floating around in his head since he first met her.

How could she want someone who can't walk into his childhood bedroom without breaking down, or someone who still has years-old scars from cigarette burns on his skin when she touches him? Her bright future contrasted with his pre-designated fate on the Cut, her personality better matched with someone more similar to her, her life continuing on whether he's there or not—it's his worst nightmare, but he's prepared to see it through.

What he doesn't expect is for her to hold her ground.

"You honestly think I'm buying into that bullshit?" she asks.

"What?"

She doesn't put it softly, she states facts with as much harshness as his cruel fantasy had, "You're trying to push me away and I won't let you."

Her typically sweet, soft features have hardened into a bitter expression he's sure he mirrors. The arms holding his waist to keep him upright move to climb up his chest and cup his face between her hands with all of the gentleness her face and voice don't have right now.

She sees right through him.

When he tries to look away again, to avert his eyes to make what he's trying to do easier on himself by not having to look at her when he does it, her grasp on his face holds firm. Her hands guide his chin back up so they're face to face, and he realizes what a mistake everyone makes in assuming her this dainty, broken girl whose only source of strength came from the brother she lost. She's a forest fire.

"You're not hearing what I'm saying—"

Y/N interjects, "I am hearing what you're saying, I'm just saying it's bullshit."

She refuses to let him off the hook, and though it frustrates him on the surface, deep down, it makes him fall in love with her all over again. Her insistence against his speech about her leaving him proves him wrong more than anything else could, 'cause he gave her the perfect chance to dip and she shot it down instantly.

The house looms behind them as a menacing presence that threatens to take control of him again, but she doesn't let it. She keeps his eyes on her no matter how many times he tries to look away and doesn't let anything get in the way of what she says next.

"You think that if you push me away and get me to leave you right now, it'll hurt less than it would if I did it later, and I don't accept that. I won't take the bait and let you torture yourself anymore, okay? I can't speak for anyone else, but I know I'll never leave you. Not willingly, anyway."

She looks into his eyes, and this time its softer, more loving, and he's never felt as understood as he does when she continues to speak.

"I'm in love with you. Whether it scares you or not, it's the truth, and I'll never stop saying it. If you think that your issues with your dad are gonna change that for me, you've officially lost your mind." Their noses brush as she leans in to ghost a kiss over his mouth and pulls away a second later to whisper, her forehead pressed to his, "I love you, JJ. Stop being so stubborn and just let me."

His next breath in trembles as he lets her words sink in, and he's stuck at a crossroads inside of himself without a clue of what to do.

The breeze blows her hair away from her face, the afternoon sunshine painting her golden, and when he sees her hair flutter in the air like it did so many years ago, he can't help but feel as calm as he did during their bike ride home. The further away he got from his dad and the house where it all happened, the calmer he grew, and it hits him at this moment that he's so taken aback by her confession to him, he forgot why he was so upset.

It's sobering. The intoxication of his panic hurtled him back in time to the frightened, childlike state of mind his dad's violent abuse often sent him to, but it was hearing her say those words he's feared for weeks that brought him back. Like the jolt of a defibrillator, he's roused back to life with more clarity than before.

She loves him, but, perhaps more importantly, she said she'd never leave him, and that is what he needed to hear more than anything. That is the statement worth more to him than the four letter word he has agonized over endlessly. No one else every attached the promise of "I love you" with the stipulation of it lasting forever. They said the empty words and contradicted it with their actions, but she hasn't done that. Her actions spoke the words long before her mouth did.

He sighs.

It's a deep, yearning sigh that sends him melting into her with the acceptance of what he's denied for too long. He savors the hands cradling his head, as well as the body pressed up against his that he has memorized down to every beauty mark and imperfection, and makes the right choice.

It isn't like it was the night at the Cherry Bowl, or the night he spoke to Pope about it. It still takes more bravery than he possesses to form the words, but there isn't a physical incapability stopping him anymore. It's just him against the trauma beckoning him into its trap again, and he won't let it lure him back into that house.

"Alright," JJ says to her through a sniffle in acceptance to her command, as if he were agreeing on afternoon surfing plans rather than something as monumental as allowing someone to love him, then continues onto with a timid tone, "I love you too."

Before he can watch for her reaction, she's surging forward through the few inches of space left between them to connect their lips in a kiss.

It's vastly different to the kiss they shared in the hallway at school last Friday. In contrast to that one, the reigning emotion within him that drives the kiss after the hesitant beginning doesn't lead them into increased intensity, it gets gentler. It doesn't explode into chaos and passion, it's a tired kiss that he never wants to retreat from. It's the physical manifestation of his feelings for her underneath the guarded exterior he uses to protect himself: gentle and yielding, yet undeniably powerful.

He feels her smiling through her tears against his mouth. In the face of everything that happened this afternoon, he doesn't feel like he should be smiling back at her, but he does. He smiles while kissing her with tears streaming down his face, still reeling from his traumatic response to coming home for the final time, and wonders how a person can feel such contradicting emotions all at once.

Y/N is the one who starts to pull away first, though it's only to check in on him. If she had it her way, she could stay here with him until the sun sets, but he did just come back from the brink of a full-blown panic attack, so she can't in good conscience ignore his well-being for the momentary bliss of their love confessions.

Her thumb brushes over his bottom lip, her smile drooping with worry as she asks, "Wanna spend the rest of the day on the boat? You always say being on the water makes you feel better. Maybe it'll make it easier to talk about it."

His Adam's apple bobs with how he swallows the lump in his throat.

"Can we maybe take baby steps for now? I don't think I can handle telling you all that shit yet."

It was already enough to allow her to follow him into the house, watch him break down into a fit of panic no one else has seen him in, and tell her he loved her, but it'd cross the line into uncharted territory to talk about everything between him and his dad so openly. Between the minor annoyance of dealing with Kacey to this hellish visit home, he thinks he's reached his quota on feeling uncomfortable today.

She nods in agreement.

"Baby steps."

Drawn back to each other by a force stronger than gravity, they collide again, but it isn't a kiss this time. It's a hug charged with all of the previously unspoken emotions they've buried inside of themselves for years, the same hug she gave him the last time she came to this house with the fear of his potential death lingering in her thoughts.

She throws herself at him with the same desperation she did that day and relishes the feeling of his muscular arms returning the embrace until their bodies are tangled together. She'd usually never refer to something as inherently affectionate as an embrace as violent, but it's the closest she can come to capturing how it feels as their bodies meet. It makes her lose her footing on the bottom step they stand on together, teetering on the edge she'd surely slip off of with the force if not for him keeping her steady.

He's about to say something, a thank you to her for calling him out on his bullshit and not letting him go that easily, when the grating sound of her ringtone blares from the back pocket of her denim shorts.

The contact popping up on the screen along with a series of frantic messages when she pulls away from him to answer shows Pope's name.

Pope You and JJ need to get back to the Chateau ASAP!!

The van doors slam shut behind Y/N and JJ as soon as it rolls to a stop in front of the Chateau.

Under the assumption that something dire happened, as in injury or death or catastrophic damage to the house itself, they bolted off of that porch faster than they knew they could move. She only turned back when she remembered the packed back of JJ's things they abandoned on his bedroom floor and, not wanting him to reenter the house, she brought it back to the Twinkie in record time.

They're preparing to trample up the porch into the house like a stampede of animals when they hear Kie calling them over to the backyard and change direction.

"No one's hurt!" she shouts, knowing that was likely where their minds went after everything they went through during the summer, "You have to see this though, I don't know who did it!"

Sticks and fallen leaves crunch beneath her feet on her way around the side of the house. Her mind races with the possibility of what could've happened that didn't hurt their friends but necessitated a series of texts and calls as frantic as the ones she received at JJ's house. She drove over here in defiance of the speed limit, something she rarely does, and prayed nothing terrible was happening.

It gave her flashbacks to when she found out John B and Sarah died in the storm. The pedal beneath her foot brought the van to an uncomfortably swift speed, then she remembered the sound of Shoupe's voice when he gave them the news. JJ warned her to slow down, then she remembered how it took multiple people to help her restrain him from attacking the new sheriff for letting his men drive their friends into their deaths.

At first, she doesn't realize what's wrong.

Kiara and Pope are standing and waiting for them across the grass near the large tree that sits as a centerpiece to their yard. Based on the body language screaming their frustration and the tears in their eyes, she can tell something bad did happen, but it's not clear what it is until she looks past them to the tree. More specifically, until she looks at what's on the tree.

"Oh my god," she whispers to herself.

Her hand is already up to cover her mouth and conceal the instantaneous frown besmirching her previously relaxed face. They both are stopped in their tracks halfway to where their friends are standing, and she can’t hear JJ's reaction over the rising volume of her hysterical thoughts.

Spray painted in red on top of their memorial for John B are the words "COP KILLER" in bold letters that conceal what they burned into the tree trunk for his gravestone. It sticks out from the beauty of the greens, browns, blues, and swathes of other earthy tones composing the scenery around the Chateau like a thorn amongst flowers, so much so that she wonders how she didn't instantly see it when they rounded the corner to come back here.

Yet that isn't the only thing amiss in the peaceful sanctuary they call home, there are random things strewn around the ground around the tree. An old t-shirt spray painted with the word "murderer" on the front, four ripped up envelopes, and a gorgeous mahogany jewelry box...broken on the grass.

The freshly turned dirt they had the contents of the box buried beneath is scattered around the trashed area as well. It clicks with her a few seconds late that whoever came here to do this must have seen the pinwheel she put in the ground to mark the "grave" and dug it up to add insult to injury.

She moves forward without consciously realizing it and stumbles until she reaches the first object of the debris field. Before this, she was doing a masterful job of holding in her cries, but as soon as she crouches down to pick up the pieces of the jewelry box, the lid snapped clean off the hinges to separate it from the bottom section, it comes rushing out of her against her will. The first unrestrained keen is the first thing to snap JJ out of his shell shocked trance.

He walks after her as fast as his legs will take him without breaking into a run, but she isn't letting him get close before she puts the box back down and shuffles forward to collect the torn letter remains. She doesn't want them to get blown away by the wind anymore than they already might have been, so she scrambles to gather the pieces until they're cupped in her hands to protect them.

"Why?" she asks and looks up at Kie and Pope with tears dripping down her face, "Why would anyone do this? Who would do this?"

Pope says, "My guess is as good as yours. We didn't see anyone leaving when we got here, so it must've happened before school ended. This is all we saw before we called you guys."

For a second or two, JJ is grasping at straws for why this happened and who did it like the rest of them are, but then something Pope said makes it click into place. It sets off a domino effect in his mind as he brings back the memory of a certain offspring of satan being absent from gym this afternoon despite being at school earlier, since his encounter with her before Physics made him, unfortunately, aware of her existence again.

His face is set in anger, jaw clenching with the tension of him grinding his teeth together, and he takes his hat off to fidget with it between his hands for a second. Their friends are too focused on her crying to see him contemplating it, but as soon as he speaks, they look up to see him setting his hat back onto his head in preparation to leave and track Kacey down.

Y/N's head snaps up from the torn letters in her hands to the sight of him storming off across the yard with his only goodbye being the words, "I'm gonna kill that bitch."

Her and Pope stare after him in shock, unable to put the pieces together about who that "bitch" is, but Kie doesn't miss a single beat. While Y/N is crumpled over on the ground in tears, she's rushing after JJ before he can approach the bike parked in front of the house. He doesn't even make it five steps before he feels her hands latching onto his wrist to stop him.

She asks, "Who the hell are you talking about? And why would they do this?"

His eyes narrow at her. His unreleased frustration for the situation in general and having to watch Y/N cry after an emotional afternoon together comes rushing out when he snaps at her.

"Kacey. She talked shit at school and I put her in her place. Now, if you don't mind, I'm gonna pay her a little visit."

He yanks his arm sharply towards himself to free it from her grip, but she's a step ahead of him. Quicker than he can think to stop her, Kie swipes the keys hanging out of his back pocket away and throws them to Pope, who, bless his heart, can't catch to save his life. The key ring jingles with its contact at the dead center of his chest, and she mouths an apology to him before turning back to face JJ.

"What the fuck, Kie?"

He makes to stomp past her and retrieve the keys from Pope only to be stopped by her hands reaching out to grab his shoulders.

"Listen to me, you can't go anywhere. Look at her," she whispers lowly enough to keep Y/N from hearing, pointing behind her to where she sits on the ground with Pope knelt beside her, "I wouldn't put it past Kacey to pull a stunt like this. I'm just as mad as you, but revenge can wait and you know it. She needs you."

The fury visible in his expression is subdued by looking past Kie's shoulder to see Y/N crying softly to Pope about the vandalized memorial.

The last time he saw her so distraught over something, it was the day they made the memorial and buried the box in the first place. She sits on her knees with her mom's broken jewelry box between them, shuddering with the sobs she has no control over, and pours the torn paper into the empty bottom half of the box. Exhausted to the core, she looks more like a sullen, kicked puppy than she does herself.

It makes his anger-fueled instincts that urge him to hunt Kacey down and do something, anything he can to make her feel the pain they do right now bubble down into sorrow. It's visible in his eyes when he looks at her.

Kie knows she's gotten under his skin when he sighs, sparing a parting glance to the bike in the driveway, and nods once at her before setting off back to where they're sitting in the grass.

Meanwhile, Y/N is stuck staring down at the disarray of her backyard with nothing but pain aching through her to the bone.

Her brother did wrong things sometimes as a consequence of being human, but never this, never something worthy of having his name dragged through the mud and being branded a murderer after his death. He stole scuba gear from Ward and broke dozens of laws in their hunt for the gold, but he never crossed that line into moral bankruptcy. Rafe did, and it kills JJ to see someone like Kacey do this to his best friend while hanging off of Rafe and his friends like a leech.

The fabric of his worn t-shirt is tarnished by the dried paint clinging to the front of it to the spell the lie written there, and her vision blurs with tears for what feels like the millionth time in the span of an hour. First, it was JJ. Now, it's John B, and she can't help but wonder if the heartache will ever end. It began to feel better over the course of the week, her grief for him slowly beginning to slip from her mind until now. Until the storm clouds converged again to batter her with another wave of it.

Through the deafening volume of her mind racing with thoughts and feelings to process what's happened, she hears Pope shuffling around to stand on his feet. Then, another person sits down in his place and scoots closer until their bodies are touching, and she knows it's him. She doesn't have to wait to hear his voice or look to see his face, she can tell based on the feeling of his touch and the smell of him she's so intimately familiar with, yet couldn't describe it aloud if she tried.

He doesn't smother her. He sits close enough to touch her and doesn't push it any further.

The background of the pale, cloudless sky frames him in the foreground like the subject of a painting—a living, breathing painting that she could study endlessly. The other trees planted in the yard's leaves flutter distantly behind him and try to draw her gaze away, but she keeps her eyes on him.

Maybe that's how it is, she thinks.

Maybe it'll get better and worse in a dance that'll only stop when they're no longer here to agonize over it. Maybe this is what moving on from John B will always be like. It'll feel like they've made strides in the right direction, then something will come along to shatter it to sharp pieces that'll reopen their stitched up wounds. If that's the case, at least the four of them have each other to lean on when it gets worse again.

JJ sits with her and lets her crawl onto his lap, resting her head on his shoulder, until the sun sinks below the horizon.

The gentle bobbing of the HMS Pogue at the surface of the water steadies her amidst her eddying thoughts. It keeps her present to the moment the way the ropes tying the boat to the dock keeps it from floating adrift into the marsh. It's a motion engrained in her from the start of her life until now from countless days spent on the water. Whether it be for fishing, swimming, or playing make believe with her boys all those years ago, it's as much a part of her as her personality or body itself.

JJ was right about one thing: being out on the water makes it easier to think.

He hasn't followed her out since she woke up before sunrise and snuck out of bed to come here. Despite her efforts not to wake him, he woke up when she disentangled her body from his, silently cursing the fact that they always cuddle so closely, and he tried to pull her back to him with a whine of displeasure in his groggy, half-asleep state. Sleep finally found them after hours of staying up together to talk about what Kacey did, unable to relax from the chaos of yesterday, so he wasn't prepared to wake up that soon.

"Go back to sleep, angel," she whispered as she hovered over him, brushing a chaste kiss to his lips that he was too tired to return.

That was the last time she saw him since this morning, and now that the sun has risen to its peak in the sky without her moving an inch from her perch atop the bow of the boat, she's begun to wonder if he's awake yet. It isn't uncommon for them to sleep in for half of the day when there isn't school or work, so it isn't surprising to her that he's just now waking up when she hears the back door to the Chateau opening and closing.

Unbeknownst to her, JJ has been awake the entire morning since she left bed.

They were so attached to each other yesterday night, he didn't have the time to put it together without her seeing and ruining the surprise, but once he heard the door to the porch close to signify her leaving, he kicked the blankets off of himself and got to work. He wasn't originally planning on starting so early, since they stayed up late into the night together, but once he woke up to the feeling of her sneaking out of his arms, he was too awake to fall back asleep.

The sound of his footsteps on the dock warns her of his approach, but she doesn't raise her head from where she rests it in her palms to stare out at the water.

"I was wondering when you'd finally wake up," she says.

There's another few steps, then the boat jostles with his weight stepping onto it.

He doesn't say anything to her in response. The only clue she gets as to what he's doing are the footsteps on the deck that lead closer to her until she feels him sitting down on the bow next to where she is. And she's about to open her mouth to ask if he's okay when he sets something down in front of her.

It's a shoe box.

Y/N turns to see him, eyes flickering over his tired face, and looks back at the box with furrowed brows.

"What is this?"

His hair is messy, exactly how it was when she left him in bed this morning, and if she weren't more focused on the mysterious box he plopped down in front of her, she'd be combing through it with her fingers. He's gotten used to those casual displays of affection from her; how she runs her hands through his hair on mornings before school when he forgets to brush it, or when she fixes a button on his flannel that he missed.

JJ's lips are tipped in a smile, and she can't help but blush with how he looks at her. She never used to see it, but he has always looked at her like this. Like he's hopelessly, utterly in love with her. Even before they lost John B, back when he'd expend all of his romantic and sexual attention on girls he hardly knew, he still looked at her this way.

He gestures at it and says, "Open it."

The lid of the box is coated in a freshly dried layer of blue paint to match the shade of the sky overhead. She knows instantly that he must have dug through the arts and crafts box she specifically labeled with a warning for him and John B to stay out. It's painted with aimlessly sloppy brushstrokes and stickers placed at every corner of the cardboard box, all of which she recognizes from the stash she kept under her bed alongside the India ink he borrowed last Friday.

As she gives him a skeptical look and reaches to lift the lid off of the shoe box, she makes a mental note to rewrite the label on the arts and crafts box without the warning for him to keep out. Since John B isn't here to steal anything from it and JJ never follows that rule anyway, it's redundant at this point.

Any skepticism is washed away from her face as soon as she flips the lid open to reveal what's inside. It leaves her speechless as she looks down at it all.

"JJ..." she murmurs in awe.

Sitting at the bottom of it is a folded up t-shirt she saw JJ wear multiple times, but never again since John B died. He refused to glance at the shirt his best friend gave him the year before they never saw him again, let alone dig it out of the corner of her closet where he keeps his things...until now.

But that's a scratch on the surface of all of the things about his gift that stuns her to silence. The next thing to catch her immediate attention is a picture she hasn't seen in years.

It's one that Big John took of the three of them together right where she and JJ are sitting. She was much younger in it, flashing a toothy grin with her arms thrown over both boys' shoulders. To her left, John B was leaning his head on her shoulder. To her right, JJ was wearing an eyepatch they crafted out of an old black shirt he stole from his dad. It was cut with the kitchen scissors and tied around the back of his head in a knot.

She brushes her thumb over John B's face, then sets the crinkled photograph back down atop the folded shirt and moves her attention to the last surprise.

Letters.

Torn up pieces of paper painstakingly taped back together sit one on top of the other, some missing pieces here or there, and it makes her mouth part in shock. Her hands shuffle the letters apart to see each one and recognize the handwriting: Kie's bubbly, swirling letters, Pope's neat cursive, hers, and JJ's chicken scratch writing that she's able to decipher from years of proofreading his essays.

She pictures him at her desk all morning while she was sitting out here, ripping tape off of the roll and arranging the puzzle pieces of the ripped letters until he was sure he got it right. It made him want to rip the hair from his scalp, but he sat there and pushed through the frustration to make it as perfect as he could for her. The missing pieces were primarily from Kie's letter, which fluttered away on a balmy breeze when Kacey tore it up and threw it to the ground, but the one he wanted her to have the most wasn't missing more than a single piece.

Y/N looks up from the letters held like a precious treasure in her hands to see him watching her with that same classic JJ smile on his face, but he doesn't let her get a word in yet.

"Go on," he says, leaning closer to pull his letter to John B out and place it on top of the pile for her to read, "I want you to read it."

"You didn't let me read it when I asked before though, are you sure you—"

He interrupts her before she can worry herself over it, "Dude, just read it. I promise I'm fine with it. I want you to."

The letters crinkle under her touch as she looks back down and smooths them out on the deck enough to read through the clear tape. With one last confirming glance to him for permission, she takes a deep breath and reads the first line.

Dear John B,

You really know how to keep a guy on his toes, don't you? You really outdid yourself on this one. I was so sure we were gonna make it, but I guess you had to go all Romeo and Juliet on us, huh? As long as you and Sarah are happy macking on each other in heaven, it's okay.

In all seriousness, I fucking miss you, bro. I miss you more than I realized a person could miss another person. Whenever I need to talk to you again, I don't know what to do. I guess that's why it's good that Y/N made me write this.

Also, I'm really sorry for—

"What does it say there? There's a whole chunk missing," she murmurs.

He scoots close enough to her that she can feel his body warmth radiating onto her through the shoulder of his flannel. Sunlight reflects on the silver rings decorating his fingers as he holds one side of the paper to tilt it enough for him to squint at.

"Macking, I think. It's supposed to say "I'm sorry for macking on your sister."

—macking on your sister. You can totally kick my ass for it, but before you come back from the grave to murder me, let me defend myself, okay? She isn't just another girl for me, John B.

I think you knew it before I did.

Last summer, you asked me straight up if we were hooking up behind your back after I kissed her in front of you on the porch. I laughed in your face, but you were right.

You saw everything before me, man. You knew I loved her since we were kids and waited for us to come to you about it, so that's gotta mean something, right? I hope it means you wouldn't be mad at me for this.

I swear I won't fuck it up with her, but you already know that. That's why you asked me to take care of her,. I didn't know why at the time but I do now. I won't let you down.

I'm keeping my promise.

- JJ

P.S. Don't miss me too much. We'll be shotgunning beers together up there before you know it.

There are tears blooming in her eyes when she lifts her gaze from the tattered paper to look at him again, but they aren't sad. For once, the tears slipping down her cheeks are happy tears, not born from grief, sadness, and pain, but bittersweet happiness.

They're caught staring at each other for a second before he asks her shyly, "It isn't too sappy or anything, is it? 'Cause I thought it—"

"C'mere," is the only thing she can get out before she's tugging him forward by the front of his shirt to kiss him.

JJ stumbles a little with the unexpected force of her pulling him to her, but he takes it in stride. He steadies himself and lets his hands shoot out to grapple for purchase on her waist, keeping her pressed up against him tightly as he kisses her back.

And it doesn't get much better than this, does it? This is it for him. He meant what he wrote to John B, he won't fuck it up with her, especially not because of his trauma with his dad getting inside his head and sabotaging his relationship with her. This is what makes everything worth it.

It brings happy tears to his eyes too.

She can taste the salt of them where their lips meet in the middle. It makes her smile, wrapping her arms around his neck and clenching the letters he mended for her in her fist to keep them from blowing away in the wind, and they both start to laugh into each other's mouths at the poignant feeling they both share but can't quite place.

They pull away from each other to catch their breath after another moment of it, and she can't help but stare. How could she not when she feels like this? It’s less like he’s her boyfriend and more like a piece of her soul has attached itself to his with no hope of letting go in the near future.

"You're the best thing that ever happened to me," she whispers to him.

Plain and simple. No room for disagreement or a bashful rejection of the compliment. She's pulled back from him enough to hold his gaze and make sure he sees her seriousness, and there isn't anything he can do to refute her statement.

He brushes his nose against hers affectionately, dipping down to kiss her again, but when he leans back to see her face, he can't help himself.

"Ditto."

The rest of the day after their moment on the boat, locked away in their own little world where none of the monsters chasing them could sneak through and ruin it, melts away peacefully. After another half hour spent looking through the box together, of her thanking him over and over again, he hops off of the HMS Pogue onto the dock and extends his hand to her in the most gentlemanly manner possible.

His lips are curved into a smirk as he kneels down on one knee as though she's a revered royal and bows his head in subservience, "Princess Routledge."

Her hand fits in his warm, calloused palm as a perfect match, and she steps off of the boat onto the dock beside him with an expression to match his.

"Captain Maybank," she says in her most regal royalty voice.

Her stellar performance breaks into a laugh they share as he stands and throws his arm around over her shoulder to walk back to the yard. The cardboard box is tucked beneath one of her arms while the other slips around his side to hold him back, and her heart feels full with both the presence of JJ and John B alongside her.

They bury it together.

Tag List: @gabiatthedisco, @fangirlvoice, @black-syren, @apparrio, @particularcth, @planetdemon, @idk-ijustworkhere, and @krisphann

Also, now that it’s over, let me know what your favorite part was in the comments or tags if you’d like to :) I’m curious.

[insomnishnik]

pairing : obsessive! dom eren x god complex reader *wink* *wonk*

rating : smut, 18+, fluff, crack (?)

wc : 53k

cw : degradation, choking, semi public sex, art student! eren, cockwarming, pussy spanking, mention of bruises and injuries, breeding kink ish, obsessive behavior, stalking, borderline yandere 😁 also pliz I'm new so if this bad lemme know

summary : at the very end of graduation, it's time to say goodbye, college is over, now off to the real world. But before the farewell, you as the student president arrange the one last time after party as a sweet goodbye message, little do you know eren have other plan.

“DO WE HAVE TO?” you murmured as Hitch pushed your back while both of stepping inside of a coffee shop. Fragrance of coffee bean, vanilla air freshener wafted to your nose, the comforting wooden minimalist arabica design greeted your eyes for its pleasing aesthetic scenery.

"Yes, we have to i mean how bad could it be?" she grinned, pulling your arm to her clutches while both of you scoured inside, "besides, the past must stay as the past, it was just a silly president election it's not like he would hold grudges against you for getting elected," she continued, referring to the big college event far ago before the senior year. 

That one time when you and Eren Jaeger applied to be the student council president, and like how history spoke, the winner rejoiced, and nobody really care about what happens next to the loser. It was a though fight, you were quite determined to take that core position with your persona, you believed that you could bring greater goods for the community, and you DID do good, but Eren fought back passionately, and you remembered you could see fire in his eyes during his speech at the debate election, he may not smart but he's clever, maybe a little aggressive but hell does he moved so many people's heart, you remembered when he was standing tall and brave on that podium while his sea green eyes glued the room together, the intimacy that is fiery and optimistic, but as the whole world know destiny said otherwise, without your own anticipation 

you won. 

And since then your reign begun. You rule well, you made plenty achievements as student president and you never been so proud of yourself, since then you never lose your dedication for your people, and the feel of being a victor, and oh how you loved the feel of being powerful. 

You and Hitch walked upstairs to the second loft of the coffee shop after you both ordered the drinks you wanted, "I dunno Hitch, i don't think that this is a good idea," you mumbled to the girl next to you, while you scratching the back of your ear, "when Armin said not to mess with Eren i think he meant it."

Sure you were delighted with your victory, but you still couldn't help yourself to feel bad for Eren, there's this strange tingle of guilt vine your stomach when you, the possessor approached your ex rival far a month ago, he gave you this bitter dirty look as you waved him a polite good morning, then he stormed off without a single word, you felt like he was prestige to look into your eyes since then. 

"And when i said he was a wuss, and a man child for going all off emo after that election i also meant it," Hitch rolled her eyes, she pat your back as a reassurance before you two finally found the person you've been looking for, almost unrecognizable from the last time you guys bumped to each other, for a moment your eyes widened to the now Eren Jaeger.

 There he was sitting all pretty at the smoking area, his hair was pulled onto a messy bun with a few loose strands on his nape, he was far more built than the boy you used to know, his bushy eyebrows looking furrowed to a sketchbook, the charcoal pencil he's holding dances on top of it. He was styled in a thin knitted black long sleeve top that hugged his muscular body tightly, army green cargo pants, and combat boots — you know, those kind of boots you wear to a rock concert just to kick someone — his rolled sleeves, revealing his veiny arms that covered with tattoos. His long legs is stretched to the chair next to him while he is leaning against the wall. 

Hitch glanced at you, she cackled noticing you googling at Eren, she pulled you by your wrist approaching the brunet, "you'll be fine," she snickered, while you could only let out a soft sigh, here goes nothing. 

Hitch signal her presence to Eren with a light cough, a small thud hit the surface of his sketchbook after he dropped his pencil. His gaze shifts to both of you who were standing by his side, he raised his left brow when his eyes met yours, you stared back at Eren and he outstared you blankly, "Jaeger," you hesitated. 

About time you finally came to me.

"Y/N," he replied, calling you by your first name. His expression never change, they're rather cold, unimpressed, he studied both of you, then back to you, he lift his chin up as he locked his eyes on you, "you brought a friend." Intruder, he finally said after a brief silence, Eren closed his sketchbook and then cracked his knuckles, Hitch pulled you, taking a seat in front of Eren. 

"Now let's skip the chit chat, because by the way Eren, you smells musty," Hitch waved her hand in front of her face, she's not wrong though, he smells like tobacco and axe body spray. Furthermore when Hitch explained the reasons of hers and yours arrival to Eren, his gaze never really left you, sometimes he would spare Hitch small glances and nods as confirmation of himself still listening, but his attention was on you. 

And you willingly stares back, you still couldn't read his expression, they're as calm as the morning blue sky, they're just so empty it sucks you in, maybe it's the blunt hatred and envy from him for your presidential position, or maybe it was something else, you even almost think that you two are basically eye fucking each other. 

You extended him the proposal and the selected material details to him, it's almost graduation, and you're running out of time to find someone who could make an exclusive design for the jackets you are planning to make as a gift for the after party event. The other councilor members and you also haven't decide the theme yet, it has to be perfect. Your last hope is Eren, the fine arts student all the girls in school droll over, even though his charisma was slightly dimmed after his loss at the election, he still got his charm, and you really prayed to Goddess Fortuna because you don't want to risk looking for someone else to customize this specific special item and just to get disappoint by the erratic result, at least when Eren agree to take the work, someone could watch over.

"No fucking way," Eren let out a smug chortled, "the president needs my help," he added in a sneering tone. Cute. 

"So you agree or not Eren," you try to suppress your nerve, and you really try not to punch his cocky face, the way he throw his head back a little so he gave you this kind of kubrick stare, gazing into your soul as if he wants to eat you alive, and just like they said, if looks could kill, you're probably be ripped apart by now. 

"What if i say no?" he continued, tapping his boot's toe on the wooden floor. 

"You'll waste your talent," you gift a thin smile that hides a very big urge to stab him repeatedly. 

Eren chuckled, he looked away towards the window before he lean forward to you, "What happen to the other art students, L/N? Did they finally acknowledge your overly perfectionist bossy self or what?" 

"And what about it?" you argued, leaning to his face, he wanted to humiliate you, he wanted you to get on your knees and beg, but you still have your dignity. 

"Uh, what is this," Hitch hesitated, "i am highly uncomfortable with the atmosphere we created in this room," what's with the eye fucking? Hitch thought, she felt like she's interrupting a really heated make out session but instead of kissing it was exchanging pure hatred, Hitch nudged you by your elbow, giving you a look. 

You gritted your teeth and pursed your lips together, leaning closer to Eren's face, "Alright, if this is about that stupid president election we had together grow up Eren! The world doesn't evolve in your stupid drama queen head, so please since i'm asking you nicely before i could fu-" You stopped your bust as a waitress came over with the drinks you ordered earlier, you glared angrily at Eren as you caught a tug of amused smirk at the corner of his lips, it was the fact that you desperately needs his help but still play all bitchy, he found it funny. 

Sure you have your dignity, and he is willing to destroy it just because he can.

After the waitress left, you tasted your fresh latte angrily, making Eren chuckled under his husky breath, while on the other side Hitch is silently witnessing the tense between you two. 

"Fine," Eren broke the silence after a few minutes since the waitress left, "i'll take the work." he sat up, you nodded and watched as that key necklace of his dangling out from his collar, and when your eyes laid on the toned chest that peaking under his shirt, you gulped your saliva and quickly looked away, "good, thank you for your understanding."

You clasps your hands together and you could hear Hitch's faint sigh of relief, "great so now i think we have our deal, you know Professor Levi's tea shop right? tomorrow we're doing a gathering, be there before 8, and if-" 

who says that i'm finished doll? Eren tug another smirk, "but with some condition."

⊱✿⊰

"For real? No party organizer available until next January?" you groaned in frustration, frantically flipping through pages of your journal, Hitch and Armin walks by your side to the long table area.

Chaos. 

Chaos everywhere, you feel like your head is going to explode, your blood boils, and there's this uncomfortable anxiety under your skin, crippling under you and devouring you slowly. You've been overworked yourself the entire night after your meeting with Eren, you were brainstorming for your graduation speech, activity recap, and of course other ornaments for the very last project you're having in your senior year, you cried for three hours while listening to montgomery ricky then cried again over the document you accidentally deleted. 

You're exhausted.

Mentally and physically, you woke up with puffy eyes and wrecked brain, but you knew that everything must go on, and no, you won't back down, everything has to be perfect, 

It has to be perfect. 

Hitch pouted as she watches you typing on your laptop, she snakes her arms around your waist and leaned her head against your shoulder, watching you making some kind of budget recap, "sweetie you should rest and lay down." She spoke with a soft smile. 

You pursed your lips together before you leaned your head on top of hers, not leaving your eyes from your laptop, "thanks Hitch, but i'm alright, i'll just finish this and i'll take a break for a bit." You just can't really trust anything without yourself being under control or watching over, you're afraid that everything would astray far from your definition of 'perfection,' this empire you've been building, and this is your last legacy the next generation will remember, and you wanted it to be remarkable. 

"No dumbass, the last catering service was too expensive and apparently our university was filled with cheapskates." argued a voice from across the room.

"Well we have no choice???" other voice argued back, "Or we can rely on your very bad cooking skill Kirstein, just pray nobody's gonna die from food poisoning." 

You huffed at the sight of Ymir and Jean who was sitting face to face on the floor, both are on their phone scrolling on google, you looked around and found Sasha, Marco and Connie, chatting across you, and you looked over to the three people next to you, your vice president Hitch, your treasurer Armin, and your secretary Mikasa. You couldn't help yourself but smiling at your team, they works so well. 

Then you frowned as your realized something, "Have Eren-" 

A short blonde girl with a tray of drinks and snacks entered the room, "Y'all snack time!" she called out with a large grin on her face.

Ymir's face lit up as she walked up to her girlfriend, Sasha sprinted towards Historia, going feral over food as usual. 

"Ugh finally," you chuckled to Jean's mumble. Soon, half of the room crowded the blonde girl, reaching for snacks and drinks, your eyes fixated as you slowly notice the presence of the familiar sea green eyes, you watches as Eren strolls inside of the meeting room, he yawned before he took a seat on Hitch's place, your frowned slightly, "excuse you?" 

"Excuse me?" he replied, plastering that damn cocky smile, he looked to you up and down, definitely mocking you under his degrading gaze, dammit y/n did you overworked yourself?

"Well have you look at yourself, President." he snickered, suddenly a sketch design laid in front of you, you shift your eyes to Eren, before you took the papers on your hands. Soft grazes of colored pencil and ink, the art was delicate yet firm, "what is this?" you asked dumbly to the design of two bomber jackets, each of the jackets has their own scrawled side notes of the color details, embroidery, and even fabric material.

"Both jacket will be make from satin, no argument, satin," Eren spoke, he pointed his polished finger nail to the design, "the girls will have the yellow one, the boys will take the red, it'll have our Uni symbol and our number," he explained, "should be ready as soon as possible," Eren watches you closely, waiting for you to say something. Part of him.....just wants you to react, just anything, just any reaction exclusively for him. 

You blinked slowly, wow. Honestly it's beautiful, looks like it was Harajuku style inspired, you can't wait to touch the final craft, you glanced at Eren, "thank you," you spoke finally, "it's really beautiful."

I'm glad you like it. "Of course it's beautiful, i made it," he replied with a smug face, he cracked his knuckles then tapped his fingers to the wooden table, "now now, what do we have here." 

It was part of Eren's condition. One, he wanted to be fully involved in the graduation ceremony prep and the after party. Two, most importantly nobody touch his creation while he have full control of it, you reluctantly gave him the responsiblity to handle the venue decoration and the theme, most of the people in your team weren't really pleased with that decision, but like you all have time to think? But after considering it, you felt like it would be good idea to have extra hands helping. 

Anything,

To reach the absolute perfection.

⊱✿⊰

"I'm so glad, that this is almost over, because i could not bear drinking another monster and espresso or i might get caffeine intoxication," you grinned as you earned chuckles through the dinner table, it was all paid off, and the grand event was right in front of your eyes, you could already imagine yourself standing on that podium, delivering your grand speech, high and god like.

But now, celebration first. 

The admiration looks from your team and the last year student council team — who decided to join for the gig — feeds your ego, there's Zeke, Nicolo, Reiner, Pieck and her girlfriend Yelena, Porco and Bertholdt. Your friends really look up to you, from the day you earned your position, they knew they could count on you. "Thank you, thank you for all of the hard works this season, i would never ask for a better team, you guys are the best that i could ever wished for," you grinned and picked up the can of beer from the table, everybody raises their drinks, and you looked at the edge of the table, where your graduated senior, Zeke Jaeger sitting down, giving you a proud look, he was a student president before you, "this is for everyone, our community has never been this great, because you all dedicated your hearts." As you cheers together, you looked around, something is missing, you can feel it, yet you can't find any solid answer for that feeling. 

It was a simple outdoor Korean barbecue party in your house's backyard, after all done, you wanted nothing but to treat your friends, because that's what they deserved for serving you right. It was returning favor, while waiting for the meat to be cook perfectly by your senior Nicolo, you sat besides Mikasa as you both chats, while Armin was next to her, busy with his phone. In the distance, chaotic guitar strums and jams from drunk Connie and Jean cracking the air together with everyone that hyping them up. You pressed your chin against Mikasa's shoulder while both of you giggling over a twitter thread. 

"Eren said he's coming over," Armin announced to both of you, he looked down to his phone and let out a heavy sigh. 

So that was the missing piece. 

"Why's the sigh?" you asked Armin.

Armin hesitated, he looked around everywhere that isn't you, he rubbed his hand through his undercut, it feels like watching someone having a very conflicted mind war with themself, he then finally impaled you with a mixed expression, "Y/N," he started, "i don't know how to say this but....." He glanced over at Mikasa, and you followed him. 

The dark haired girl rather gave him a surprised expression, a some kind of you did not! look. You exchanged the utterly confusion to both of them, Mikasa nodded slowly, "She needs to know, Armin." 

"I need to know what?" 

"What are you guys talking about?" you turned around and sees Eren standing right in front of you, bruised up and bleeding, his knuckles was fucked in a shade of dark red and purple, strands of hair falling in front of his face, Mikasa quickly stood up, "Eren did you—"

"Yes i did," he shot her a cold glare, you could see from the corner of your eyes that Zeke started to approaching, Eren's eyes then finally found Armin, who's looking scared and nervous more than ever, "tell me, what's the interesting story Armin?" his tone was striking and icy, under his husky voice, you could track hints of slurs because of alcohol. 

Armin went quiet, he gripped his knuckles, what is this? something must happened and you didn't know, and you hated that. You hated when things was out of your reach. "It's okay Eren, you should check your wounds, they look pretty bad," Armin swallowed, his words came out more threatening than he anticipated. 

"No, no, no, i wanted to know what you gonna say to Y/N," Eren moves closer to Armin, "you are not trying to tell her anything bad about me right?" 

They looked like they're ready to throw hands, but Zeke was already slips between them, holding the both boys's chests with his flat palms, "come on now guys, let's not." he hesitated.

"No, let's." Eren insisted, he slapped his brother's hand, you quickly pulled him down by his arm, he flinched when he felt your touch, Eren glance at you, and for a split second his eyes went soft, it was that soft that you felt nothing but pure affection from his sea green eyes, then something took over his body, he suddenly pulled you by your collar, lifting you up, moving your face closer to his.

His eyes were bloodshot, you squeezed his wrists while kicking your feet on the air, "you," he growled, his warm breath smells like alcohol, you blinked slowly, scanning Eren's animalistic glare, but there is no hate in his eyes, you found yourself trying to look for it but there it none, instead there's this raging desire, he looked at you like you were his prey, "Eren-" you choked, for the first time, you feel powerless.

"I hate you," he hissed, but all you could sense was lie, his mortal fingers squeezing you so deadly but you feel the comfort of it, the bizarrely embracing lust, and his existence blurs all the noises around you, just you and Eren Jaeger. "you took everything from you," he continued, "i woke up everyday wishing you dead." 

You knitted your eyebrows, and you feel your godly ichor rushes back through your veins, a disgusted smirk appeared on your face, belittling him for lying, "liar." 

Then huge arms pulled Eren from you, tackling him to the ground, Mikasa caught you before you hit the ground, Hitch stepped in front of you, shielding you from Eren who was struggling under Zeke, "Eren what the hell!" she shouted. Mikasa helped you up and pulled you close to her chest, "Y/N are you okay?" she sounded so scared, questions and assumptions popping in your head about what happens between Mikasa, Armin, and Eren. You looked up, finding Reiner helping Zeke restraining his own brother. You knew a minute ago that guy attacked you, but seeing Eren in that position just feels so wrong, you never thought you'll get drew by a guy like Eren Jaeger, but here you are finding yourself shoving aside your pride while approaching the two blonds. You put your hand on Zeke's shoulder, squeezing them gently, "it's okay," your delicate tone shocks him, "let him go Zeke." 

You could feel everyone giving you a jaw drop, but when all eyes on you, you find yourself only looking at Eren. 

After a tense moment, Zeke and Reiner finally let go of the brunet, you pulled Eren up then you put the tip of your fingers to his chin, examining his wounds, he scoffed and avoided your eyes, dropping his eyes to the ground. "Let's get that clean up," you mumbled and dragged him by his hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. Leaving everyone in a ambiguous silence. 

"Why are they leaving? the wagyu is ready."

You walked upstairs to your room, no words exchange both of you before you finally entered the bathroom with Eren, you let go of his hand, your heartbeat strangely skipping inside your chest, while you were searching for the medicine kit in the cabinet, when you finally turn around, you found Eren already sitting on the toilet seat, you kneeled down in front of him and you opened the medicine kit, you pulled a towel from the drawer and stood up, wetting it in the sink, "what happen?" you finally spoke. 

Eren let out a deep chuckle, he wiped his bloody nose with his thumb then wiped it off on his jeans, gross. "Why do you care," he asserted. 

You rolled your eyes and kneeled back in front of him, with dripping wet cloth on your right hand, "please you stormed on me, lifted me up and looked at me like you wanted fuck me against the table while also wanted to burn me alive at the same time." you gave him a judging look. You took his hands, and then slowly pressed the dampen cloth on his bloody knuckles, he didn't flinch, Eren remained silence while he watches you. You could feel his smirk while you were treating his wounds. "Have i told you how hideous you look tonight?" he asked quietly. 

"No, tell me." 

Eren then moved his left hand away from you, extending them, he caressed his thumb on your cheekbone, made you froze, his hand then traveled to your ear, it tugged your hair behind them, "i cannot." He whispered softly. 

You looked up, and put the now reddish cloth on the floor, you moved closer to the burnet in front of you, you intertwined your fingers with his once again, the tense on his shoulders visibly relax while his pupils widened to the presence of you, "now would you tell me what happen?" your voice sweetened, melodic in his ear, and it seems like he's lured enough by it. 

Eren huffed a chuckle, he looked down to both of your hands, "Had a fight with Pops," he shrugged, "took the anger on the wall." You moved closer to his face, close enough to smell the liquor in his breath. Eren stared at you, he never imagine he would have the blessing to be this close with you, he was always watching you from afar. Those interrogation towards Armin regarding you, questions after questions on your personal life, forcing Armin to dug deeper and helped Eren fulfilling his needs on you, he'd followed you after school, to your favorite coffee shop, your home so he'll know your address, to where ever he could reach you, man... he'll go after you to the edge of the world if that's where you're heading. 

"Do you still hate me?" you asked, and to be honest the question kind of scares you, because after these past few weeks of spending more time with Eren Jaeger, you finally caught in his fire, his flaming intimacy you thought was long gone, and you also surprises yourself for not getting pissed off by the feeling, because it makes you feel vulnerable. 

Eren grazes his thumb on your jaw as if you were made of glass, he kneeled down to the floor with you, so you both could be equal, no high ground. "The truth is my darling, i never was," he confirmed, "after you won that election it was my last straw because from the first time i laid my eyes on you, Love.... You have bewitched me body and soul," he's been watching over you from the distance and you still as pathetic as he could remember, maybe it's the way you stole glances at him, the way you would secretly checking him out but little did you know that he notices everything, he's been reading you like an open book without having to flip through every pages, because you already spread open for him, "you have became the very thing that is out of my reach, Love. And for i have fancy you, and you'll be mine not just in my mind but fully," and he is itching to taste you. His warmth envelopes you to a sense of safety, he trails his hands to your waist, pulling you closer to him, and you melt like a candle on fire. Right above you stand an entity greater than yourself, the essence of mystery that fold itself in front of you, and with the universe speak between you, everything is a clarity. 

And you, you don't get it, you thought it was all envy to the position you have, and for the first time, you crave something other than power, "Did you just quoted Pride and Prejudice for me, Jaeger?" you snakes your arms around his neck while his growing bulge strokes on your clothed cunt, the rough material of his jeans made your arousal grow thicker, "my, my, my i used to think that you were just a pretty face with zero common sense," you teased, nuzzling your nose against him. 

His husky chuckle vibrates against your skin, without warning he pushes you up against the wall and you immediately jumped onto his waist with your legs, you gasped as your back hit the cold surface, Eren kneading your butt cheeks as he was holding you up, his chest pressed on yours, warm breath mixes together, "ouch, did you just call me dumb?" you snickered, Eren tilts his head before he smirked, "maybe we could be equally dumb after i make you babble nonsense with my cock." His mouth devouring yours feverishly. Frantic gestures rid you and him of clothes on your body, while you helped Eren unbuckling his belt, his teeth grazes yours, tongues fighting for dominance with each other, he latched his lips onto yours, hungry for more taste, you started to sucking his bottom lip while Eren savor your taste, he pushes more for a deeper kiss, his hand fondling your clothed boob, then it slipped under them, as he found your stiffened nipple, you felt his smirk between your kiss, and a moan escaped from your lips, they're already swollen and you knew you needed air soon, but without your realizing, you already breath through his air through the kiss. 

You unhooked your bra while Eren pressed you harder against the wall, his cock was already free from his jeans and boxer, his beautiful tip was coated in precum, when you finally exposed your breasts in front of him, the animalistic side possessed him back, Eren kneads your breasts greedily causing you to mewl, shivers running down your spine, and you unconsciously grinds you drenched cunt against his waist, Eren cackled. 

"What a fucking whore, you looked like a cat in heat." 

You whined when his flat palm hit your cunt, he rubs the dampen clothed surface of your clit, Eren brought his mouth to your breast and started to circling his tongue on your nipple, making your back arched and you grinding to nothingness of his waist, "whore," he spat, a string of saliva bridge between your skin and his lips, "is this what you called a student president? i don't think so." Eren grip your throat and slowly adding pressure to your air circulation with his index finger and thumb, his other hand has been stroking his own cock for awhile, he uses his precum as lube and your eyes twinkled to the beautiful sight. 

Your lips parted, he let out a throaty groan to your ear just to tease you, "what if i just jack myself and leave you like this?" the menacing grin appeared on his face, your desperate look just pleased him even more, he groaned under his breath as he feeling himself twitching, and your drooling pussy just looking tastier than ever, Eren inhaled and faked a pout, "aw, what is it? don't you want to walk around with my cum dripping from your slutty hole aren't you? that is sinful my Love, won't it gonna stain your pride, Miss President?" 

You cursed under you breath, and another slap landed on your cunt, you threw your head back as Eren squeezed you against the wall, "nu uh, bad words," he growled, "what do you want, Y/N? Use your fucking mouth if you want something, did your parents never tell you?" another hard slap on your cunt made you gasp, you cried louder, and Eren shushed you while peppering kiss on your naked shoulder, "careful darling they might hear you from downstairs." 

He pecked your nose before he finally aims his cock to your entrance, stroking his tip to your dripping cunt, "what do you want, Y/N? say it." He repeated.

"Your cock!" you whimpered, "please pound me with your cock.... please Eren.. i just want it inside.."

He slammed into you, causing you to let out a sharp noise, "Oh, like this?" Eren felt your soft warm walls hugging him so tightly, as if you guys just fit so perfectly together, he held his hand on your tummy to prevent you from grinding your greedy self, letting your cunt clenching him by itself, "fuck you're so tight my Love," he groaned subtly. 

"E-eren please move..... i'm begging you...." you sobbed so pathetically. Eren moved his face close to yours and pinned your wrists above your head, "this will need an outcome don't you think?" he tilted his head, making you wept for his cock to move even more, suddenly an idea popped in his head, "I will move," he said, "i'll shoot my loads in you and then you'll be mine, i want you to want me so badly, i'm going to imprison you, and then.... just then...it'll be just you and me, always and forever," he dug his face on the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent so they'll stay in his head, but he knew it won't, you're his own personal drug anyways, "promise, Darling?" Eren whispered against your skin.

You shivered under him, your eyes rolls at the back of your head, your pussy is aching with lust, so needy for his cock. You quickly nodded your head, "p-promise." 

Eren kissed your neck, sucking them briefly, leaving a visible mark on your soft skin, "good girl."

He pulled his cock from you, leaving just the tip, before then he impaled, filling you up with his length, he slide so easily onto your meat, your legs shivered as he endlessly pushed deeper inside you, and you could feel his tip kissed your cervix, Eren then started to moves at a quick pace, "you like that so much hm? taking my cock like a little slut," he said velvety, turning you on even more. He buried your moan into a deep kiss, his big arm scoot your hips close to him as he ramming his cock with no mercy onto your walls, his other hand still pinning your wrists, as if you're gonna escape from him. You started to rolling your hips on him, making him move more faster, you're both skin to skin, grinding onto each other desperately, "Eren....s'big...so deep..." you moaned. He continues to pound into you.

"Fuck, that's right baby say my name."

"Eren!"

After a minute he completely stopped, you opened your eyes and your face shows confusion, before you could ask any questions, he suddenly slams all of his length into you, causing you to yelp both in pain and pleasure, the lewd sound of skin slapping made you curl your toes, he pounding into you like there's no tomorrow, you threw your head back, your tongue lolling out from your lips, he slamming all his length in and out of you repeatedly until you're a shaking panting mess, an amused look plastered on his cocky face, and his hips didn't stop dipping on you, not letting you think straight or put up any fight, "come on, fucking take it like the cumslut you are."

You choked on your breath as the knot in your stomach getting tighter, "E-ren... hugs...hugs....?" you purred to him, he finally let go of your wrists and let your head fell against his shoulder, he increases his phase that you didn't know was possible, you warped your arms around him as he did to you, and you dragged your nails through his sweaty back, Eren started to whisper sweet nothings as he felt himself twitching, he slurred curses underneath his groaned, his veins popped as he gripped you tightly, his muscles flexes at each moves.

You didn't dare to question him when he said that he'll fill you up inside, because no matter what your answer is, he'll do it anyway. The sight of his hard rock abs and v lines sent you over the edge, “Eren i’m gonna cum—“

“cum with me, Darling.” 

You tasted the bitter tint in your tongue as you started seeing stars, you vision went black as Eren rides you to your orgasm while fluid started dripping down your thighs, your body is shaking uncontrollably, Eren let out a loud groan as he riding himself to his own high using your abused cunt, he shot his warm thick load onto your womb, making sure you take all of it, you buried your face on his neck, he slowly pulls out his cock and watches the white liquid oozing from your hole. Eren lifted up your chin, he cupped your cheek and pressed a soft kiss against your lips, mixing your pants together, “mine.” he moaned to your soft plump lips.

“yours."

⊱✿⊰

[wh6res]

spectator | jeno

"don't cry, little dove. i'm not even done yet." — ljn

TW mafia au, blood, violence, mentions of prostitution and brothels, mentions of past torture, extreme power imbalance, dumbification, they used a tranquilizer

A/N first half is told in renjun's pov also this is for dino anon hehe thank u for the inspo babes!!

DISC i don't condone anything. this isn't love.

WC 1.4k

renjun was fairly new to the mafia but it didn't take him long to realize the outrageous things they considered are the norms here. one of the first things he noticed is a cute little bunny dressed in scraps that always seemed to tail jeno wherever he went. jeno was his superior, albeit they were the same age, so it sucked that renjun had to use honorifics.

oftentimes he ignores you when jeno stands before him giving orders, or when they pass by each other in the hallways and stop to exchange pleasantries.

as renjun quickly climbed the ranks thanks to his agility and cunning mind, you, unfortunately, remained in the same position—always sitting by jeno's feet like a puppy, a body, a plaything, a whore. there were rumors that the boss gave his executives a chance to pick from the litters before they're shipped off to brothels, kind of like peace offerings in exchange for their compliance.

people said the stoic, muscular young man never really indulged himself in such temporary matters. until probably two years ago, until jeno first laid his eyes on you and decided then and there you were too pretty to become a random whore in the chain of brothels the mafia owned. the petite boy believes maybe it's a disguised blessing on your part, at least you'd only have to deal with one man every night, right?

renjun can only look at you from afar, keeping in mind not to stare too openly nor too intrusively that your owner notices. he's seen the bruises. the purple and black patches of your skin and renjun never gets used to it. his stomach turning at the idea of jeno deliberately marking your skin where the oversized shirt you wear won't be able to cover. the chinese immigrant would be stupid not to notice what that meant—it's jeno's clear sign of dominance, of the severe power imbalance, and not a single man in this building can stop him from doing whatever he wants to you.

renjun managed to piece things together thanks to his naturally observant nature. jeno never punished you for what you did, he punished you because he knows he can't touch his subordinates for something measly such as bumping or staring at his whore. the young mafia executive decides to take it out on you instead, albeit the flawed logic and unfairness of it all—proof that every person in this criminal organization is fucked up in the head.

despite jeno's maltreatment, renjun never heard a single complaint from you nor can he detect a feeling of rebellion out of you. you were so eerily compliant that the chinese can't help but think of what other horrible means jeno did for you to become so broken. renjun tried thinking about it, once, but never again. he can be cruel if he wants to be, but not without purpose. not because he gets a kick out of seeing a face twisted in terror. he wasn't like jeno, who smiled and laghed after blowing someone's brain up in the mafia's torture rooms.

this is why jeno is the only man fit for the job, the reason he became an executive at such a young age—there's no man he can't break for information. renjun doesn't know what jeno does to the poor people in the torture rooms but the piercing screams are enough to decide never to go against his superior.

renjun never thought he'll live the day to hear your screams coming from one of those rooms.

"what?" he does a double-take, eyes wide and unbelieving. "what do you mean she's in there? that's her, right now?"

haechan shrugs, wincing when he hears another scream coming from inside the room. he'll never know why these rooms aren't soundproof, maybe it was a way for jeno to keep his subordinates in line—"hear that? just be grateful that's not you."—you wouldn't want to cross a man who has no moral compass. "yeah. i heard she tried to escape."

renjun doesn't like the cool, amused smirk on haechan's face as he leaned back against the door, looking like everything is okay when it's not. "heard she got like… what, ten feet? give or take—yeah, i think ten feet out the door before jaemin's men tranqed her so much she would have slept for a week."

it was easy for renjun to detach himself, disregard his own set of beliefs and sweep them all under the pretense of "it's just work, nothing personal" but with you, it felt different. he knows you. well, knows of you. it's different, personal even, when he can match a face to those gruesome, ear-shattering screams that wracked through his bones.

he wanted to help you.

renjun wanted to help you.

but no, he didn't want to get shot in the head for insubordination.

jeno manually props you against the wall, cringing at the trail of blood that stains the tiles and pools underneath you. your shirt—rather, jeno's—was soaked through with the crimson liquid, your hair sticking to the side of your head. it feels like you were burning from the inside with every breath you take.

maybe months, years, of compliance made you forgetful. after all, jeno is a man of his word, through and through. he can only threaten you so much until he snaps. maybe he deemed the swift punishments and his harsh words insufficient. but who were you kidding? with the stunt you pulled… fuck, why did you even think of making a run for it? you should've known you won't even make it across the street! stupid. stupid. stupid.

you swore never to make him angry enough to bring you back down here in the torture chambers—this is his domain, and you shivered in fear with every fleeting thought you have about what he does behind those cement walls.

the first time jeno took you down here had been granted by the boss himself (see, the man running the mafia has favorites). jeno's men held you by the arms and made you watch as he killed a poor guy with his bare hands. slowly, excruciatingly, bleeding out because of the wounds jeno inflicted with his fists alone.

the second time was because of your first escape attempt. ah, you had been so energetic back then. always talking back, snarling and cursing him out. after that second time, you've become more compliant and have thoroughly embodied whatever sick fantasy jeno had of you. his broken doll, unseeing, unthinking, who breathes and lives only because he wanted her to.

you've heard him countless times say how much he missed that energetic personality you had. but only because you knew at least then he'd think the cruel punishments are justified.

oftentimes, he'll say it when you two are alone, in his room at headquarters, too disgustingly intimate like lovers and not a whore and her owner. his cold lips leavees a sweet trail on your neck, blood-stained hands soiling your skin underneath the dirty shirt, before finally slotting himself next to you as the cot creaks with the extra weight. he reeked of sweat and metallic and his eyes hazy from that post-bloodlust high.

jeno's boots squelch when he steps closer. never crouching, he wanted you to feel that severe power imbalance between the two of you.

"i won't ask you to apologize. not when i know you don't mean it."

you don't bother to reply. not because you don't want to but because you can't, voice utterly hoarse and scratchy from screaming while jeno breaks and tears you down as if he doesn't whisper the words i love you at night. you're his lover only when he needs you to be. sad, that he rarely felt the need of a lover and more so needed a cunny to fuck.

finally, he crouches. slow and never breaking eye contact. he raises a hand to push a strand of hair away from your face probably. you flinch. he doesn't care. "jeno, please don't touch me." but he touches you anyway.

you feel the callouses in his palms as he caresses your face. the calm before the storm. the deep inhale before the plunge. jeno grabs your chin and tilts your head up, a serene smile ghosting his lips. he looked at peace. satisfied. and you have never been more scared of him than you ever did in the last four years.

"don't cry, little dove. i'm not even done yet."

jenoluck (c) all rights reserved

[agape-28]

Honestly some people dont want to accept Louis works out because some part of his life we see portrayed but all his bandmates are in good shape and probably working out on free time (Hello Matt's abs) and most importantly DIDNT NOBODY NOTICE OLI GAINED MUSCLES lol if Oli can then Louis for sure too lmaooo Louis might lose some weight while touring bc it is normal but that doesnt make him scrawny or anything like that.

oh i totally agree with you, anon. i'm never going to forget that video of louis during 1d era where he was tasked to do like ten push-ups and he clearly did all of them effortlessly, but at the last push-up he "failed" at it. there's just this weird narrative of how louis is unhealthy and eats poorly and can't do anything athletic which is so weird considering he literally plays football. like i'm not alone in this, yeah? it's so weird how the guy who's been playing football since he was a teen was promoted as someone who hates anything active.

i think louis' always come across as someone who, even though he appears to actually be rather thin, is deceptively muscular. bria posted this photo of louis when he was a judge at TXF, and throughout that era he did look rather "smol", but then he's just out here one-arming people lmao.

maybe louis doesn't do the full gym work-out, like he doesn't go 100% ham on the weights and barbels like harry probably does for his films, but he clearly takes care of himself and has good physique and strength. and also people who work out tend to keep up some form of exercise because it's actually not good for your body to just straight-up stop exercising after doing so for a while.

[aoiaoimm]

Iwaizumi Hajime & Oikawa Tooru: character- couple analysis: who wore the galaxies, who lightened up the stars?

• Written by me.

• Personal thoughts.

• Ao3 link here

"What I am saying then is just because you don’t know how you manage to be conscious, how you manage to grow and shape your body, doesn’t mean that you’re not doing it. Equally, if you don’t know how the universe shines the stars, constellates the constellations, or galactifies the galaxies – you don’t know but that doesn’t mean that you aren’t doing it just the same way as you are breathing without knowing how you breathe."

----Alan Watts from the book The Essence of Alan Watts Vol. 4: Death (1975)

---------------

On Facebook, there is a topic that came up like this: Can you guys try to list out how many rival pairs are there in Haikyuu?

Someone suggested Hinata and Kageyama. Others said it’s obviously like the relationship between Nekoma and Karasuno, or the equal of Nishinoya and Yaku's abilities. Speaking of the barrier, there's Aone, there's Tendou, there's Matsukawa. Although a bit skewed, there are people who think that this is Bokuto, Kuroo.

At that time, I thought like this: You know, Iwaizumi and Oikawa are also rivals.

The beginning of their story begins with a few small images: Oikawa with the passion for volleyball from an early age, and Iwaizumi who was drawn to his fanciful hobby even when his full attention had been put into the racquet he used to catch insects and forests. Starting from that prologue, Oikawa Tooru's world only had volleyball, and Iwaizumi Hajime's world only had Oikawa Tooru. Although I was very hesitant in writing all the above, but I don’t think that is wrong. If everyone has carefully watched the anime and even read the manga, people will see almost any frame, when Furudate-sensei describes Oikawa's growth, Iwaizumi is always there for him. Supporting him, looking at him, staying behind him. Never once did Iwaizumi exploit anything other than volleyball and Oikawa, perhaps the world for Iwaizumi is just Oikawa, to go to school in the morning, to study, play volleyball together. Perhaps not just a friend, Iwaizumi to Oikawa is a quiet walk after a late workout, a light from a window in a dark night, a clenched fist that adds more warmth. Surely, even when Iwaizumi was just a child, his thoughts were like this: He is simple-minded, he is very stubborn, a crybaby, and he doesn’t know how to take care of himself. I have to look after him, I have to be here. I should be the support he needs, I should take care of him.

Because Iwaizumi Hajime has always been like this: hot-tempered but easy-going, grumpy but firm with his own gentle tenderness. He doesn't ask for anything, because maybe for Iwaizumi, just as long as Oikawa is okay, he is fine either. Oikawa is his best friend, the person he cares about the most, rather than the fact that he didn't start with a love for volleyball like Oikawa, more than an insect cage and racket. Iwa-chan, Iwa-chan, look, this serve is great, let's play volleyball. It’s okay, Oikawa. I choose you.

And then what?

Oikawa collapses in front of him, doesn’t even have even a bit of joy for playing volleyball. This is not just a painful pain for Oikawa, but it is snatching what Iwaizumi wants most- which he has always tried hard to collect and preserve- and shatter to pieces. Iwaizumi was there when Oikawa started his passion for volleyball and watched the way it sprouted around him, unable to stop Oikawa from his own guilt. Iwaizumi was there when they entered the middle school together, became captain and ace, and lost at the hands of Shiratorizawa. Yet it's still not that he can save Oikawa from that painful black hole in the end, until Oikawa explodes in front of him, until Iwaizumi almost couldn’t stop from gung further, before he can do anything with the younger setter that year.

On many forums, websites, media types, in fact, there are many people who have different opinions: think about it, Iwaizumi can choose a softer and less violent way to wake Oikawa up isn't it? Why does he always have to be so violent like that? Are they really friends? They're teammates, aren't they?

The answer is: only because they’re teammates, that they can treat each other as so.

Because they’re friends, Iwaizumi can bring all the anger in him down on Oikawa with a hit on the head. Listen carefully, the sounds from the invisible story page, the sounds that literary minds bring you. The frown on Iwaizumi's face, the way his fists tighten around Oikawa's collar before he gives him a bump on the forehead, they're saying it too.

If they were a normal friends, would it be possible to one of them to immediately hit the other person? If they were only normal friends, would you not hesitate, not be afraid of anything, not feel upset and do something like that?

I'm not promoting violence, I'm trying to understand the emotions that are cornered into muscular movement, in a person who has always been familiar with the watching position, with the role of a supporter.

The blow that Iwaizumi gave to Oikawa, is exactly the same as the punch Oikawa was almost swung towards Kageyama without thinking. If Iwaizumi wasn’t there, what would happen after? But of course, we have no chance to discuss that subject, because Iwaizumi was there, sliding right where he needed to be as if the universe was always, always watching them. Certainly a part of him wanted to scream: look! Feel it! This is what you intend to do with Kageyama! Think it through, what are you thinking? You are a fool! You really have no cure!

But he didn’t. Instead, he said:

“Among us, no one has the ability to win against Ushiwaka in a one-on-one match. But damn, volleyball has six people on the court and that must have a reason! Even if the person on the other side of the net is a first-year genius or Ushiwaka, six who are stronger are stronger!”

Maybe that's what Oikawa wants to hear the most. Perhaps Oikawa doesn't want to hear people call him the best setter, doesn't want to hear people praise him anymore. Perhaps what Oikawa wants is someone to come over and tell him that no one can win against Ushijima alone, that he has already tried his best, that he doesn't need to worry anymore, just rest. Now it's everyone's turn. The people on the same side of the net are all his allies, Oikawa had Kitagawa Daiichi by then, just that he didn't realize they were what he needed until Iwaizumi told him that. He had been rolling around in those hellish years, hurting himself, pressing himself on the involuntary burden like Atlas with the eternal punishment of carrying the earth on his shoulders. Oikawa has never wondered then, what about the other thing?

The joy he craved when playing volleyball.

"Suddenly, I feel invincible."

Feeling that there's nothing that could win over him right then, it's because Oikawa Tooru suddenly realized he was with such a person.

Instead of advising Oikawa Tooru to remove the burden of this planet from his shoulders, Iwaizumi Hajime suggested them to do it together until they couldn't anymore, until the world crumbled on their shoulders.

Instead of smooth and sad goodbye words, Iwaizumi Hajime said that you are the partner I can boast, an excellent setter. No matter which team you join, that fact will never change.

You know, Iwaizumi Hajime is a guy with a lot of "didn't", with a lot of "instead", only for Oikawa Tooru.

Oikawa Tooru is a proud and arrogant jerk, enjoying jokes and compliments about himself. Think, when you are being called "excellent setter", what kind of face would you have? In each match, when you look at the opponent, what kind of face would you have? A smirk, probably. Brown eyes quickly become sharp but a little arrogant, it's also right to say that Oikawa Tooru is a complacent, but it is not wrong to think that he knows his ability, aware of what he is, what he should do to keep it up, how he is better than others, how people look up on him.

However, after watching the anime, I felt like the kind of looks Oikawa gave Iwaizumi when he finished their challenge, was something stranger. I mean, Oikawa has been praised a thousand times before, right? Surely he must not be too surprised anymore? Yet he is. The pupils opened their eyes wide with every single of Iwaizumi's words, he probably couldn't believe this was the person three years ago who slammed his forehead into Oikawa’s face. When Iwaizumi ends his impromptu speech and Oikawa turns around to face Iwaizumi, there is a kind of emotion in his eyes that is usually not there when Oikawa receives a compliment. It is called warmth. It is called pride. It is called a tender emotion, the noble respect between two friends that not everyone can have, when both find themselves stopping by the familiar park, under the moonlight.

"..... But when we confront each other, I will definitely defeat you"

“I have no intention of losing either."

For everyone, this is simply Iwaizumi's fight with Oikawa, or a hint about what will happen in the future, for example, that they will meet again even if they choose two different schools. For me, this is Iwaizumi's last respect for Oikawa when their high school volleyball career is over, as the two prepare to turn to a new chapter of their lives without the other person.

Do you know? Considering someone as a peer competitor is a kind of gentle respect.

Talking about personal issues again, for a while I was very determined to complete the literature test my school took in order to be able to be in the excellent students team. There was this girl in the same class as me who attended the test with me, and when it came to the exam day, she jokingly asked me that because we are in the same class, that can I go easy on her. I also just smiled back then, but actually in my head, I kept thinking. I didn't tell her, but I wanted to say no, I won't need to hold back on you. I will do my best if we compete with each other, because I respect you, because I know you are amazing and powerful enough to me to do that.

So, I think Iwaizumi means the same thing. The fact that he seriously considers Oikawa to be his opponent is kinda odd, because we've always been used to look at him as someone who silently looks after Oikawa, walking behind him, taking care of him. As Ushijima said, almost everyone tried to assert that without Oikawa, Aoba Johsai would be just a mediocre team. But no, after all, Iwaizumi was there, facing Oikawa, on equal position with Oikawa, forcing Oikawa to seriously accept himself as an opponent. Everyone knows this, but to me, I still want to say that Iwaizumi Hajime is really, really strong.

He doesn’t want to stay in the back anymore. He didn't want to be overshadowed by Oikawa, he didn't want to be silent, he wanted to stop watching. He wanted to take a step forward. He wants to be a rival to Oikawa.

Yesterday, while rewatching "Seijou after match", I was surprised to realize Oikawa's eyes were so soft, to realize Iwaizumi was always in his own way, steadfast and thorny until the last minute.

Perhaps Iwaizumi's wish at that time was more than just facing Oikawa on the court. It was his own way of expressing- apart from his deep respect- that he wants to see Oikawa again. He wants to be with Oikawa again, with anything related to volleyball. Perhaps all the little things that Iwaizumi Hajime wants is just to once again feel his connection with Oikawa, once again meet him when the two have became adults,

Once again,

Can be able to play volleyball together.

Oikawa Tooru is covered by the whole galaxy, but Iwaizumi Hajime is the one who lights up the stars.

[starkerparkerpony]

You're so very precious my little darling Pt.1

This was supposed to be my first attempt at writing smut but my prudish tendencies are incapable of doing it without proper build up.

Relevant info- aged up starker, peter is 28, tony is 46. This is mostly just light flirting and some coarse language. 1st of 3 parts. This is Tony and Peter's first meeting, Thanos has already been dealt with, Tony doesn't know that Peter is Spiderman... yet.

Do tell if you would like to be tagged in future updates.

Tony first met the smug little prick who ran 'park.er' at TechCrunch. He had these ridiculous brown curls that looked entirely way too soft, obnoxiously brown eyes that were way too big and a devastatingly disarming smile... with dimples. It was all too much and Tony didn't care for the way everyone seemed to be swooning at him at all.

They were on the same panel, discussing their respective new smartphones which were being lauded as "innovative & groundbreaking". Tony had questions about whether this inexperienced newbie's product was at the same level as his, but he actually respected the work the kid had managed to get done in the varied fields of genetics, textiles and adhesives (of all things) so he kept his silence.

"Starkfone is technically the first time that Stark tech is being retailed directly to the general public and there has been some criticism about the prices, or rather how high they are, what do you have to say for yourself Tony?" the moderator guy asked.

"Well, what has to be kept in mind is that unlike some other smartphone brands, we are manufacturing within these great United States of America because if I'm going to conquer the market then I'll bring the jobs too" Tony winked at the audience as they applauded "So yeah, prices are a bit higher but no one can deny that you get more bang for your buck. Especially when the Stark name is involved."

Tony had actually fought tooth and nail to get the prices lowered and they would be in the future, but yeah, besides the intelli-crops this was the first time that the general public was the customers rather than the government or other companies, they still had some stuff to figure out but Tony gave the audience his signature smirk and they cheered for him anyway.

Parker just looked on in amusement.

"Peter you're manufacturing the Gizmo in the US too right? Yet your product is 30% cheaper... How'd you pull that off?" The moderator asked the kid.

"Ah... after having spent like ten minutes in Mr. Stark's company, I'm coming to the realization that maybe my low pricing is a result of my low self esteem." The boy chuckled, the crowd laughed with him. Tony played along and shrugged.

"No but seriously... I have absolutely no problem being the Android to Mr. Stark's Apple" The kid grinned cheekily at the crowd and the audience ate it up. He definitely knew what he was doing.

And Tony hadn't missed the fact that the kid compared his tech to Apple.

"Are you calling my tech a vanity product kid?" Tony challenged, playful smile firmly in place.

The crowd went "Ooooohhhh" anyway.

"Oh no, I'm sure it's a great phone Mr. Stark! I just have no way of knowing for certain, you know... cuz' even I can't afford it" The kid shrugged smugly as he got another huge laugh from the audience.

******************************************************

Tony rarely had a quiet moment at events like this but he had managed to get away to an empty corner for a breather and was distracted by his phone when he felt a hand gently rest at the small of his back.

The Parker kid came around to stand in front of him, he was almost a head taller than Tony now that he was close up. The boy had moved his hand but Tony could still feel the tingles from the initial touch.

Trouble.

"Mr. Stark I hope I didn't offend you earlier... I was very nervous, this is my first time here and my friend Michelle told me that compared to you, I have the 'personality of a wet sock'. So, I guess I was just trying to make a good first impression" the kid caught himself from babbling more and it pissed Tony off, how sincere he sounded.

What also pissed Tony off was the fact that the boy wasn't just taller than Tony but also very muscular too, a twunk if there ever was one.

He was definitely only pissed at him and not attracted to him at all.

"Don't worry about it Parker I can take it... you did good today, great first impression, consider me blown away" Tony assured him with a friendly smile "And please call me Tony."

"Only if you call me Peter."

"You got it Pete." He said, trying to irritate the boy a little but didn't get much other than a little eye twitch.

"Was I interrupting something?" Peter asked

"Nope, I was just replying to some texts."

"Well, if you're free, I'd love to pick your brains about this AI project I've been working on and maybe buy you dinner?" Those eyes and dimples were in full effect, sincerety shining through... so Tony had a hard time saying no to the kid.

He definitely didn't just wanna spend time with an attractive, intelligent man... Tony was being generous and helping out the not-so-little guy.

By the end of the of the evening, filled with charming and intelligent conversation, he had to concede that the Parker kid wasn't all that bad.

******************************************************

The second time Tony met Peter Parker was almost three months later and he was at a low point.

Bruce and Rhodey were away at work, Happy was with Pepper and Pepper was... married.

And even though things were better after the Thanos episode, they weren't all that good.

And Tony was spiralling... rather publicly.

It's just that it had been a while since he his last encounter with alcohol and so the open bar at the Mayor's gala hit him like a truck. All while being surrounded by cameras and reporters.

Tony was about to respond to the asshole who kept asking him about Steve when he felt a hand rest at the small of his back and deftly start to guide him away from the bar and the cameras.

"Long time no see little darling" Peter Parker was looking down on him with those eyes and that face... God he's obnoxiously good looking.

Speaking of obnoxious "Did you just call me little darling?" asked Tony, justifiably indignant.

"Wow you really are drunk" Parker chuckled.

God has his voice always been this deep and husky...?

"That's not what I asked" Tony insisted

"Did you want me to call you little darling?" asked Peter, eyes twinkling with mischief.

"Ugh- Where are you taking me by the way?" He's definitely still just as irritating as last time.

"Home"

Huh... hooking up with a business rival was not what Tony had planned for the evening but it was better than being miserable and alone, which was in fact the plan, so he went along with it.

Parker stopped by a Burger King drive through on the way which only made him all the more attractive to him.

They were awkward in the elevator of the Stark Tower and the boy still hadn't made a move which was a little weird.

What wasn't weird was Parkers arm casually draped around his waist.

Once they were in his quarters living room area and Peter seemed like he was starting to leave, it became evident to Tony that the kid had literally just meant dropping him home.

He was a little disappointed but he wasn't gonna say anything... until Parker opened his smart mouth.

"Well, I'll see you around little darling" He snickered

And Tony had intended to just give him a light shove, but the back of Parker's knee hit the couch and Tony stumbled too and somehow they ended up with Peter on the couch and Tony in his lap, straddling him.

"Gotta' say... when I imagined Iron Man making a move on me, I expected something a little more advanced than the 'stumble straddle'" the kid was playing it cool but Tony could see his blush.

So he responded with "You imagined me making a move on you?"

"Oh repeatedly... it has been my favorite fantasy since I was like 15" The kid had the gall to wink at him.

"Well sorry for letting you down kid... now are you gonna fuck me or not?" There was a corner of Tony's mind that was worried that he was coming off too desperate but Parker was hot and Tony was drunk and horny so he couldn't care less about appearances.

"Your ability to call me a kid and then ask me to fuck you in the same sentence would be worrying if I wasn't almost thirty... speaking of fucking you, that was my initial plan but you're drunk and I don't wanna take advantage of my little darling..." Peter was letting him down but he had a very fond smile on his face... it made Tony all warm inside. The pet name was growing on him too... uh oh.

What was also contributing to his warmth were Peter's, rather large, hands. Resting on his waist and thigh.

"Maybe I want you to take advantage of me..."

"Oh there's no 'maybe' about it... you have a semi just by sitting on my lap, this is as embarrassing for you as it is flattering for me..."

God he was a smug little prick, Tony loved it.

~To be continued~

[bellaciaobitch]

i love your fics so so much !! ❤️ i hope (like, if by chance) you make some au fics wherein raquel isn't a police and sergio isn't the professor and the story doesn't revolve around robbery and all those money heist and perhaps they could be like 2 CEOs from 2 rival companies etc ? :) idk it just looks nice but that's just me, no pressure :)) (too embarrassed to reveal my identity sorry 👌😂)

you know what’s really crazy? I wrote something like that a few weeks ago! But it was slightly different, they were both lawyers working in the same big company, competing hard to impress their boss and get on top of their career. So I had to change a little bit to fit in your request but I think it turned out great. Let me know if you like it! [Warning: improper language and a little bit of smut.]

***

Taking Control

The clicking of the heels was a familiar sound to Raquel at that point, even if she hated hard those uncomfortable shoes. She walked quickly down the path to the great ballroom, still smoothing her black leather skirt glued to her body, mentally cursing herself for being late for an occasion as important as the cocktail party of the national congress of lawyers and judges of Spain.

The place would be full of sponsors and the right partnership combined with a good marketing plan could leverage the profits of her law firm by more than sixty percent. She was confident that her team was made up of the best professionals in Madrid, and that almost all contracts they closed were rewarded with positive results and the clients’ satisfaction. She was also sure that she was one of the most competent lawyers in the city and that her hard work building the company out of nowhere deserved more recognition. And Rachel was not the sort of woman who would rest until she got what she wanted.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit,” she muttered, stopping on the steps that led to the entrance to adjust the left shoe that was slicing her heel. Then she took a deep breath and counted down five seconds, incorporating the successful executive Raquel Murillo: the unbreakable woman with no flaws, determined gaze, sexy smile and perfect posture. She walked slowly through the entrance and gave her name to the receptionist who wished her goodnight as she entered the place.

She took a drink from a waiter’s plate to disguise her eyes scanning the room from the dance floor to the bar in the opposite corner. Watched the guests one by one until spotted a circle of executives with expensive tuxedos, chattering around a particular man. She could distinguish some publicists, representatives from various companies, journalists and, at the center, recognized Judge Prieto, the most famous in Spain. He was the hero of the people, with many cases settled, outlaws dutifully sent to prison and the public opinion always playing in his favor. The perfect target of the night. If Raquel had that man as an ally, she would never have to worry about reputation again. She ran her hands through her hair and rubbed her lips together to strengthen the lipstick, ready for the attack, before being abruptly cut off.

“Careful, Raquel, if you stare too much, they may think you are desperate,” the voice whispered behind her ear in a seductive way and Rachel jumped, almost spitting the Martini back into the glass. She turned her body already with a scowl to face the owner of the voice she had already identified only by it’s sarcastic tone. There, standing with his chest inflated and an annoying smile on his lips, Sérgio Marquina watched her with a glass in one hand and the other in his pocket.

Rachel hated him. She hated him more than she hated shoes, makeup, and tight clothing. She hated more than all the prejudice that she suffered in the law business for being a woman. She hated him since they first met, three years ago in a congress similar to that one. She loathed every little detail on his angular face: the black squared glasses that fitted his eyes and gave him an air of arrogance, his messy hair and the thick beard that framed his cheekbones and jawline. And she didn’t really need to see him with less clothes to know that she would also despise his defined, muscular body that the meticulously lined gray suit concealed. She hated his intelligence, his cunning and his damn office that competed directly with hers. If someone asked her, Raquel would never admit she kind of found Sergio attractive, especially because she had grown so used to loathing everything about him that she barely noticed that her hands were sweating as he approached.

“Fuck you, Marquina,” she swore, giving him a deadly look.

“Hey, where are your manners?” He asked, opening another wry smile.

“For you, buried 6 feet under”

“Well, good evening to you too, Murillo. I came to make you an invitation. To sit at the same table as those guys you were staring at like a dog looking for a piece of meat” he said gesturing to the group of men behind Raquel “but if you keep treating me like that, I’ll have take it back. ”

“Keep it” Rachel replied, finishing her martini in one swallow and turning her back on him again “I do not need you”

“Oh, of course you don’t” Sergio said, again too close to her ear, their cheeks almost touching. “But you need them. And we can certainly split the partnership equally and the two companies will win. ”

Raquel was about to refuse but something in her instinct tingled. He was right, her firm needed the publicity that Prieto would bring. It was a rather attractive invitation, but coming from Sergio, there was always something else. She knew he was always planning everything. Raquel raised an eyebrow, and bited the inner side of her cheek, still watching the executives but not really paying much attention to them.

“What do you want?”

“Well, what makes you think I want something?” Raquel heard Sergio laugh and rolled her eyes before turning to face him again. “I just need a favor, which won’t be a big deal for you”

“Sergio Marquina needing favors?” she asked sarcastically “Don’t make me laugh”

“One help for another” he rebuked, adjusting his glasses on his nose.

“Spit it out, then”

“Follow me.”

Raquel frowned as Sérgio turned around and opened way across the crowd. She was always an impatient woman and her goodwill with surprises was almost none but she followed him anyway, sneaking around the dancefloor, avoiding people who danced and laughed together. When she finally found him, he had stopped behind an old little man with bald head and a jacket slightly too big for his body.

“Dad,” he patted the man’s shoulder to catch his attention and waited for her to stop by his side. “This is the woman I told you about. Raquel Murillo, my fiancé”

Raquel didn’t have time to protest, - or to say anything at all - , let alone to ask what was happening. Mr. Marquina gave a sincere and affectionate smile that wrinkled around his eyes and reached out to greet her.

“Hello, sweetheart, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you!”

“F-finally?” She replied grinning awkwardly but her eyes were still wide.

“Oh, yes! Sergio told me everything about you. You know, I might have been making too much pressure on him to have kids, but I am honest when I say that my greatest interest is for him do be happy with his family”

“Kids?!” Rachel choked on her saliva, completely shocked and finally could look at Sérgio, who seemed extremely calm by her side, playing the perfect part. She should have known something was up, he really was a man of planning.

“Come on, Dad, don’t be hasty. We’re still … talking … about the children subject,” he answered, slipping a lopsided arm around her waist and rebuking her angry glare with a fake smile. But, Mr. Marquina did not notice the tension in the air. Instead, he let out a loud laugh and patted his son’s shoulder.

“Okay, right” he said, catching up the air and looking back to Raquel. “Good lord, sweetheart, you’re beautiful! My son chose well! Why don’t you sit down here and we can talk better?”

“I would love to, but …” she was ready to politely refuse, trying not to be rude to the kind gentleman when the executives who were once around Prieto sat at the table where Sergio’s father was, each with a girlfriend or a wife hanging on their arms.

And Raquel understood. He was Joaquin Marquina, the great businessman who gave his name to the renowned law firm and retired recently, letting the millionaire company for his son’s care. The man was famous in the business and it was clear that he needed a perfect family to maintain the appearance. He needed his son to find a wife soon and give him perfect little grandchildren who would grown up spoiled to be the future heirs to his legacy. Of course, Sergio was not the family type of man so he was unable to care about all his father’s blabber. He just wanted  a distraction while he would pose with the other important man in the room. So he had to drag his archenemy to his unfair play, transforming her from ‘Raquel Murillo, the successful lawyer’ to 'his girlfriend’.

Even so, Rachel sat down next to Mr. Marquina and talked to him for what seemed like hours. She did it not for Sergio but for his father, who seemed a very decent man and didn’t deserve the manipulative son he had. She felt her blood boil even more when she realized that Sergio simply forgot about her existence and was too busy talking to Prieto about bills and past judgments. That was his plan. Reduce her to nothing. Make her lie, pretend and waste her time with his problems while himself enjoyed the company of the greatest judge in Spain.

When she could no longer hear his annoying laugh without screaming in rage, Raquel excused herself, explaining that she needed to go to the restroom. She walked away from the party, the music and the people, because she needed a quiet place to light up a cigarette and smoke down her anger. She looked at a clock set on one of the walls and saw that it was past midnight. Soon everyone would leave and she had lost her chance again. She couldn’t believe how she was dumb for trusting him and promised herself that she would never forgive him for making her feel so small and so insignificant. By then, tears were brimming her eyes and she walked faster through the corridors of the mansion so no one would see her blurred makeup.

“Hey.” Sergio pulled her arm before she could even reach the back door.

“Don’t touch me,” she said releasing herself from his hand. “You’re very good, you know that? A very good manipulative asswhole. You played me like an idiot again, in front of all those people just to have Prieto all for you ”

“Oh, I did?” He looked offended “you eat shit? I didn’t do anything on purpose,  just had to get rid of my father and wanted to play a joke. I’m sorry if you were not able to get out of the situation on your own”

“Oh my god, Sergio, you play so dirty. And you still have the dumb-ass face to think you can fool me. You’re a daddy’s little boy who controls absolutely everything to get what you want, even if it means stepping on someone else”

“Well at least I’m nice with people. You’re a heartless monster…”

“Shut up, you are not in position to…”

“… you think that you can boss people around but the truth is, no one can stand you …”

“I said, shut the fuck up.”

“Why do you think your ex-husband left you, anyway?”

“SHUT UP” Raquel screamed and the slap she gave him next echoed through the desert corridor. 

Sergio’s cheek turned red immediately and he flew his hand to his face with his brows furroed, trying to understand what just happened. They stared into each other’s eyes for a few seconds, and the air filled with hatred and tension. Sergio wanted to retaliate in some way, torture her, hurt her, tear her into million pieces. But when he heard his father’s voice calling him from afar, the only thing he could think of doing to hide their arguing was to kiss her.

So he pressed his lips on hers and held her steady until she stopped fighting in his arms. The plan was to let her go as soon as his father saw the two of them together and left, so he stopped kissing her, feeling guilty for his attitude even if he wanted to continue.“I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t-” but he couldn’t say more because her lips where on his again, as Raquel threw her arms around his neck. 

It was like a game. An intense tug of war in which the two tried to show who was more overwhelming. She deepened the kiss first, intertwining his tongue in hers voraciously, as if trying to prove something. He, on the other hand, sucked her bottom lip so avidly that he almost drew blood.

Neither of them thought long before they started to slide their hands through the other’s body. When Sergio lifted Raquel up and she tangled her legs on his hips she knew they were going too far but couldn’t bring herself to care. He carried her to the nearest private room, and she slipped her tongue from his mouth to his jawline, his earlobe, then his neck.

She sank her teeth in his jugular and could feel him growling beneath his breath, an erection pulsing under his pants. Raquel smiled proudly when he responded her teasing with slamming her body against a wall, not minding if she would hit her head. But then she found herself unzipping his pants and ripping his expensive shirt open without much delicacy, destroying a button or two in the process. Sergio eyed her with a mix of lust and defiance when he pulled up her skirt and grabbed her ass, feeling her nails dig even more into the bare skin of his shoulders.  

Raquel wanted to torture him slowly, to hear him moan in pain, to give him enough pleasure that would make him beg for more. She wanted to turn him inside out only to analyze every inch of his beautiful, cold brain. But more than all this together, she wanted to release the latent desire that pulsed between her legs at that moment.

“Fuck,” she gasped when he kissed her neck, pulling her panties aside and sliding one finger inside her. That moment she realized she had lost it. She wasn’t quite sure what: maybe her sanity, her control, her reputation or their little game. But for a woman who was always trying to win, losing had never felt so good. “I fucking hate you.”

[the-council-of-new-york-vampires]

Why'd you like Adam so much? Really curious... (In the choices universe I usually like the "bad bitches" but Adam... Just doesn't do it for me)

Out of Character:

Great question I admit I’ve been asked rather often in private! ^^

Firstly, I feel you. I always fall for the villains. Generally, I think villains are more interesting than heroes, because of their psyche alone: What goes on in that person’s head, you wonder. What happened to them that they are like that? I mean, no one is born evil. It’s the environment that shapes (even though some traits are genetic, of course). For me, I think: the eviller, the better.

Adam is… wow. I gotta say, the first time I saw him, I was very neutral. I even remember, when Adrian asked “You surely find him attractive, like everybody else?”, I was like “….He’s okay??” I think I even said “Of course not”, lmao.

I wasn’t interested in him for the entire book. It was shortly after that when I was thinking about Bloodbound’s end. As much as I like to complain about his death, I got to admit that, without it, I would have never fallen for Adam. From one moment to another, I realized how harsh and kind of “unfair” (??) his punishment was. It was then that I thought back, when we met him, and he was so nice and sweet and then I realized… I love this guy.

For real. It was like a switch being pulled. I watched his scenes on YouTube again and it was then that I realized just how charismatic he is. I mean, after his good looks, it’s the first thing MC commented on, but… I realized how good one must feel in his company. He makes people feel good, just naturally. He even looks happy with his neutral face on!

The way he talked to MC, making her speechless with one single sentence when she talked to him about the Clanless, that fascinated me. Adrian’s right, he could sell water to a whale. He could sell me a pile of shit, I’d buy it. He can manipulate so flawlessly, use words for his own benefit in a way I find unique! His way to do it… so subtly. He could murder a whole village and blame it on someone else!

Everybody loves that guy - his feedbag’s attraction for him is no wonder - except for the people who know him too well. Regardless, he keeps the facade up like the bastard he is, and he knows he is. He is so chivalrous and gentle, charming, yet incredibly dominant and reckless. He cares about a lover’s pleasure. On the other hand, he only cares about himself. He is so two-faced, such a snake, I have never seen the like!

Also, have you seen him? I mean, sure, we could discuss forever whether he is attractive or not (to me, he most definitely is), ‘cause that’s a subjective thing. But clearly, he is written to be absolute hotness. I mean, first thing MC thought when seeing him was that he’s “even more handsome in person than on TV”, Adrian made clear “everybody” finds him “attractive” and Lily called him “America’s hottest Senator” for a reason.

He looks so good, every wrinkle on his face looks good. His hair is so nice, his ears are flawless, his smile lights up my world, his beard is absolute perfection, HIS LIPS… His teeth are the whitest! And have I mentioned his broad shoulders and the fact that he is probs tall? Even his hooked nose (which I have too, and I have never felt so good about it) fits him perfectly! The part of his chest that his dress shirt doesn’t cover is the reason I live, I would pay to see this man topless! 

His style is very chic and classy, yet sporty and relaxed… Lester can’t pull it off, he looks sleazy as hell, and that’s why he hates him. Adrian looks too closed off. They can’t compare. Adam shaves, but he leaves the hair that looks manly… The others can’t. Please, compare Adam’s goatee to Jameson’s. He tries to comapre, but he can’t. We just know Adam isn’t as muscular as Adrian, but I bet his chest looks ten times better anyway! He is fire without even trying. 😩

Adam is revealing, seductive, his lips part just a little bit, but that’s a thought in the back of ours minds, one that we can’t access, but we know it’s there. Adam is warm, he kisses people’s cheeks as a greeting, but he is never perv. That’s his Spanish charm! He is overly controlling, but super relaxed at the same time! Just look at his pose: hands in pockets, super chillin’, confident in himself. A man like Adam could achieve anything!

Nicole was right about everything she said about him, and I envy her for being able to spend time alone with him in a car. Adam “has guts”, has “what it takes”! He is not a risk-taker, but he is far from a coward. He is so strong and powerful and able… I wanna be his. ;-;

Which is something that surprised me. Brown eyes? Prefer blue. Beard? No, thanks. “Older” man? Gross. Politics? Most boring shit ever. Fake hoes? Ew.

No matter. (Adam said that - twice. 🌚) He could get anyone and he knows it. The lady-killer line… That was my favorite one in the entire game. It made me realize they created this character in the image of a perfectly desirable man, one that has everything a lady could wish for! I want to be with him, no matter as his prey or his wife, because I know both would be absolutely intoxicating.

This man either does whatever he wants with you, regardless of your feelings, for his own advantage, like the cruel tyrant he is, or he loves you. He protects you. He does anything for you (I mean, please, look at Pradam, he would have taken a bullet for her anytime).

What kind of women does he like, I wonder? Does he like a submissive one, or does he like a challenge? Either way, he will never love her more than power. He must have been abused in some way, powerless, until he achieved power and promised himself not to ever lose it again.

Adam is an ambitious achiever. He wants something? He works for it and gets it. He knows exactly what he’s doing in every aspect of life! I admire that.

Can’t decide which side of the coin you like better? Adam is both! He’s so adaptable, but, then again, he doesn’t adapt! You can have a wild night with this guy, party and lose it, have the kinkiest and steamiest sex! Or you could stay home with him for a quiet night and cuddle and he will kiss you all over and make love to you tenderly. 😊

Sorry for the overly long character analysis, but… This man made me realize I’m not a lesbian.

[bmongmong]

Chapter 3 - New Emotions

Blue pill or red pill - Jungkook

Description: You're a young girl, who's a little bit introverted and afraid to be under everybody's eyes. You only have your best friend, but it's ok for you. You don't want to be popular and believe in minimal things. One day you meet a guy. Or two?

Jungkook x Reader

The imagines I used are not mine Credit to the owners

Y/n pov

Another week has passed and it seems like me, Rosé and Jungkook have become a great trio.

As I walk towards school I receive a message from Rosé:

Rosé:

Y/n sorry but today I won't come to school. I feel very sick ☹

That's ok I guess. If she's ill, she needs some rest and-WHAT?! OH MY GOD, I'LL BE ALONE!! WHO'S GOING TO PROTECT ME?! I BET EVERYONE WILL LOOK AT ME. WHAT IF THOSE BULLIES COME TO ME BECAUSE SHE'S NOT WITH ME?! Ok y/n. You have to calm down.

I feel my heart pounding very fast and the palms of my hands sweating. This weird sensation is pervading all parts of my body. From my feet to my head. I feel my legs strangely weak, but somehow I can walk without any problems.

I find myself at the entrance of my class. I take a deep breath, but I cannot move. I just want to run away from here. I feel really pathetic right now. I'm all grown up and I can't even go to school by myself, without my friend. Then...

"Are you going to go in or stay here all day?" I turn around and it's Jungwook.

I don't answer, I just look away and try to find an excuse, but it seems like my lips are sewn. Nothing comes out, a part form little indescribable noises.

"Move" he says scoffing and entering the class.

I just stand there, embarrassed of what just happened. I'm still not used to people talking to me, except if it's Rosé or Jungkook. That's right. The good twin. We talk a lot actually and I feel comfortable around him. Of course, there are still lots of things that we both don't know about each other, but I think that now, I can really consider him a friend of mine.

As I'm thinking about the people I know, still on the edge of the door, I hear a voice speaking to me:

"Y/n don't pay attention to him" it's Jungkook. For some reasons I feel calm now. My legs are no longer shaking and my mind is free from bad thoughts. He then continues:

"Come on, let's go inside together!" as he smiles, he grabs my hand and drags me inside. At that very moment, I felt like I died for a couple of seconds and then I resurrected. But then I realize that it was just my heart skipping a beat, or maybe two or three.

Now I'm seated at my spot, still thinking about the two Jeons. Wow, they're really different. The kind one, Jungkook, can make my heart flutter with just a single move, while the other one, Jungwook, is just a bully. As I find myself drawing on the desk, still thinking about those two boys, I hear a voice talking to me. To my surprise is Jimin:

"Y/n. Since today Rosé won't come at school, why don't you stay with us?" as he invites me, I see his hands pointing at him and the two brothers. I nod in response and I see Jungkook smiling. I guess it's not going to be that bad, but wait. How does he know about Rosé?

"Umh...Jimin...sorry for bothering" I say at a very low voice "How do you know about Rosé?"

"Oh didn't she tell you?" he asks surprised and I shake my head. Then I see him blushing a bit and smiling "she texted me this morning. She said, she didn't feel well. And she asked me to take care of you"

My heart melts. Rosé. I really can do noting without you. I feel my eyes a bit teary, thinking about her love towards me. She's like a second mum to me.

In order to not leave me alone, Jungkook sat beside me, at Rosé's spot. I honestly felt a bit better. During the lesson me and him would write on the desk to have some fun. He then helped me with a math problem I couldn't solve. As he leaned close to me, I felt my heart popping out of my chest. His face was so close and once he noticed he quickly turned away blushing.

During other classes I kept scolding myself. Too much is happening in my life. But as I think about Jungkook I start smiling. As much as I want to be emotionless, I really like the feeling when I'm close to him. I guess I'll just allow this new emotion. But what type of feeling is this? Friendship? I honestly don't know, but for sure I know it's not the same emotion I feel when I'm with Rosé.

By now I've known Jungkook for a couple of weeks, or maybe three.

I think I'm too strict to myself.

As another lesson ends I can see Jungwook walking towards us and talking:

"Can you two stop being all lovely dovely? It's honestly annoying"

Me and Jungkook look at each other and start blushing. Then the kind guy next to me talks back to his brother:

"We're not...like...just stop it Jungwook" I feel him nervous. He's kinda transmitting me his anxiety.

As I look at the two twins, I notice their little diversities. For example, Jungkook has a little spot under his lower lip, and I actually find this cute. Then I notice that he also has pretty long hair. Not as long as Jungwook's, but they're pretty long too. Regard the bad guy, I notice the many tattoos on his arm. They're so many!! But it's kinda attractive. WHAT ARE YOU THINKING Y/N?! SERIOUSLY STOP!!

As I'm internally debating with myself, Jungwook gets closer to my face. He's just a few inches away from me. WHAT IS HE DOING? I'm seriously about to explode. I'm feeling too many emotions. My body doesn't know how to react to this. It's actually a mix of excitement and anxiety.

"Stop acting so innocent y/n" the bad boy says as he stares into my eyes. Honestly, his gaze is so piercing. I feel like he can see my soul sailing inside my body.

Now I can hear all my classmates whispering. Jungkook notices how uncomfortable I look and he pushes away his brother saying:

"Leave her alone" he's not nervous. He rather seems calm and serious.

As the gangster walks away, I notice a group of girls looking at me. I know Jungwook is pretty famous, but I didn't expect such reactions.

"Y/n just ignore that" I hear Jimin saying as he handles me a bottle of fresh water. "Calm down, I'll talk to him later"

I guess Rosé told Jimin that I'm easily conditioned. I'm talking about my emotions. Now I feel nervous, I'm afraid Jimin will tell everybody about this.

"Don't worry y/n" this one says "I won't tell anybody" he says winking at me.

I blush a little and look away. He then continues:

"But I need to ask you a favour"

"What is it Jimin?" I ask curious, still flustered, due to what happened.

"Rosé. Convince her to go out with me"

I just nod and he leaves. So I was right!! Jimin has feelings for her! Yess, I'm so happy. Wow my mood is like a roller coaster. At first I feel nervous and scared, then right after I feel very happy. So many mood swings.

Then I feel a hand on my shoulder. I flinch a bit, not expecting this type of skin ship, and turn around to face Jungkook, who's now talking to me:

"Y/n are you alright?" he asks. I can see that he's trying to look calm, but he's actually nervous.

"Yes, I think. Thank you Jungkook....for saving me earlier ahah..." I say a bit awkward.

"Don't worry. Even though he's tough, I know him really well and I know how to handle this type of situations" he seems a bit sad as he says this. "Do you need something?"

"O-Oh don't worry, I'll just go and get some fresh hair" I say and quickly stand up, leaving the room.

Now I'm walking down the empty hallway and stop at some point, leaning on the wall. I need some support since I feel my whole body trembling and shaking. As I turn around I see those girls that were looking at me earlier.

"So you're y/n? never heard of you" one of them says as the others start laughing at her lame joke. I'm just embarrassed and look down. I mean, that's what I wanted, not to be known. As I play with my fingernails due to nervousness, I feel one of those girls, grabbing my hair and making me fall on the ground. I put my hand in my hair to prevent her from pulling my hair even more, but she's really strong and eventually ends up pulling them a lot.

"How pathetic!" she says scoffing "I feel pity for you" and they start laughing.

I'm about to cry. I feel alone and helpless. I feel like I'm about to throw up all of my emotions. They're too many. And too heavy to handle. I feel my heart breaking into pieces as they keep making fun of me and pulling my hair. That's it. The end of a movie, where the main character gets beaten up and ends up dying alone. That's what I thought, until...

"Leave her alone" it's a male voice. He seems bossy and steady.

"Jungwook. What are you doing here?" one of those girls asks him "we just wanted to make sure she would never disturb you again. We saw what happened earlier"

"How many times do I have to tell you girls, that I will never date one of you? Now leave her alone and go away. And if I see you bothering her again, something bad will happen" he says threatening. Wow, he' really scary.

As I see those girls going away, I look up and see Jungwook looking at me from above.

His body looks so good. He has really long and muscular legs and wide shoulders. I see his black belt hugging his tiny waist and his tattoos moving in sync with his muscles as he cracks his fingers.

"Stand up" he orders me.

I'm so scared right now. I feel like I could die, if I don't listen to this man. I quickly stand up facing him, but my eyes are looking away.

"Look at me" he says.

I just widen my eyes and tense up my body. I'm sweating again, I can feel the heat invading my body. He then repeats himself and I obey. As I look at him I feel kinda hypnotized. Like if my life was an actual movie and I'm just an actress, who's acting.

He gets closer to my face and asks me:

"Did they hurt you?"

I look away and shake my head. I'm too embarrassed to look at him, but he grabs my chin with his fingers and turns my head to his. I feel my heart in my throat and I can hear every beat. My breath gets heavy and I feel a drop of sweat slowly going down from my neck to my chest. It goes really slow and it actually gives me thrills.

I see him scoffing and asking at a really low voice:

"Why you?"

Is he referring to me? Did I do or say something wrong? Am I going to die?

I see him getting closer and closer and I instinctively shout my eyes. But then I hear Jimin:

"Y/n are you ok? We heard some noises so we came to check"

What is he doing here? And he's with Jungkook!!

As the boy that's holding my chin hears Jimin and Jungkook arriving, he lets go of me and steps away snorting. I'm actually relieved that nothing happened. I couldn't stand another scandal. Then I hear Jungkook voice:

"Y/n! Did he hurt you?" he says concerned.

"No, not at all. He actually helped me..."

As I finish explaining them what happened, I see Jungkook's face changing expression. He looks disappointed. Don't know why.

As we go back to the classroom, I feel a mix of emotions, but I cannot distinguish them. It feels so strange. I try to feel sad, but I can't. Then I try to feel angry, but the anger doesn't come out. It's really really weird.

Now that all classes ended, I stand up and make my way to leave the room, but I hear Jungkook voice from behind calling my name:

"Y/n!" he says. I can feel the tension building up. "I-I wondered if I-I could walk you home..." he says rubbing the back of his head.

My head feels peace after that question. I know I can go home safely with him. I nod and smile brightly and I see his face lighting up.

As we walk down the street I see him a bit nervous. I'm too shy to ask if there's something wrong. But I guess that's what good friends do, so I decide to question him. But before I could say something, he speaks:

"Y/n...do you like him?" I see him blushing.

"Umh? Who?" I'm a bit confused. Who is he talking about?

"My brother..." he says almost whispering.

"WHAT?! Of course no!! I'm just grateful that he helped me earlier, but there's nothing more!" I shout instinctively and nervously.

I see his face muscles relaxing and his big smile appears.

"Good to know"

That smile makes me blush so hard, that I have to look away so that he doesn't see my red face. But I guess he noticed it anyway as I can hear him giggle.

Now we're in front of my house.

"Goodbye Jungkook! Thanks for taking me home. See you tomorrow!" I say turning around, but before I could walk away he grabs my wrist and I freeze.

"Y/n..." he says with his calm voice. I don't turn around. I just can't move my body. I feel his hand tightening the grip on my wrist and in just a blink I feel Jungkook back hugging me.

After a couple of seconds he lets go and I hear him stuttering:

"I-I'm sorry y-y/n! I-I didn't m-mean to..." as he says so I turn around as see him looking at the ground. It doesn't look like he's regretting his decision. I think he's daydreaming right now, like he's here in front of me, but his mind is on another dimension.

He's actually handsome. I don't know what I'm doing, but I think I'm looking at him under another prospective. Not as my classmate. Nether as my friend. Could it be...? No way, I'm not that type of girl that dreams these sort of things.

I just want to nod and get inside, but instead I say:

"Don't worry" and my body starts moving on its own and does something I would have never expected.

I'm hugging him. As I hug him I start to panic inside. WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU Y/N?! WHAT ARE YOU EVEN THINKING? I HAVE ALREADY ALLOWED MYSELF TO HAVE A NEW FRIEND, BUT THIS TIME I'M NOT ALLOWING THIS!!!

Then I slowly let go and look at him smiling. He seems surprised but he shows me his bunny smile right after. I don't want him to see me flustered and nervous, so I just keep smiling. Then I greet him, still smiling, and go inside. After closing the door behind me, I look through the window and see him going away.

Then my smile disappears and I just...

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" I scream as loud as I can.

"What's wrong y/n?!" my mum is running to me worried. She keeps asking me and shaking me, but I'm frozen. I have to admit it, that scream helped me. I feel so much lighter now.

As both my mum and dad are shaking me, I smile at the memory of a few moments ago. As I smile I realize. I'm doomed.

[ganymedesclock]

Okay hold absolutely everything- I wanna hear about your au Shadow and Vanilla crackship, I'm very intrigued.

[deep breath]

Okay so. Several factors afoot here.

Vanilla is basically a local community leader. She runs a bakery/family restaurant and both employs and manages charity work for a lot of people. In the 'less fashionable' oldtown district of Starlight City, just about everybody knows Vanilla. She is Connected.

This also means she is busy, which, as a single mother with a rambunctious adopted child, does mean she makes SOME arrangements for Cream, who cannot play soccer in abandoned lots all the time, and there's only so many times you can get a kid a tetanus booster before the consensus comes in that Someone should keep an eye on the kid.

Incidentally, Vanilla living close to century-old prefab housing means some of her neighbors are Interesting. One of them is Shadow, who was able to buy out not just the particular unit for sale but enough of the prefab structure that he basically owns his own 'townhouse' and has turned the basement into his personal machine shop.

Nobody really know what Shadow's deal is. Most of the people Vanilla talks to do not know when exactly he blew into town. He is, most concede, Older Than He Looks because he's got the physique of a spry 20something but offhandedly references being there for events that are at least thirty to forty years ago. It's also a general consensus that he's almost definitely here illegally and tends to disappear any time someone particularly official is too close for his comfort. He Does Not Get Out Much, sleeps irregularly, and makes psychiatrists home in like bloodhounds on the scent within ten paces of most of his habits.

Needless to say, not what most people would consider ideal babysitter material. But Cream managed to kick a ball through one of his windows on a dare, and the bewildered enigma thus summoned awake at 3pm cleaned up the broken glass and patched the ball, nominally so she'd leave him alone, and told her to play somewhere else without particular anger.

Vanilla does not really believe Shadow thinks of her as a friend, but she believes very strongly in being Neighborly, and, every now and then paying him to watch Cream is an easy arrangement and also a pretense to make sure he doesn't spend too much time alone in the dark with his thoughts as seems to be his prerogative.

Cream thinks Mr. Shadow is terribly sad, and not always polite, but sometimes people struggle to be polite when they're feeling bad, and he seems to be feeling bad almost all the time.

Shadow thinks the kid is alright, and her mom is somewhere between a little too nosy for his comfort and one of the rare listening ears he almost opens up to before he reminds himself not to do anything that means he'll have to leave town even faster than normal.

He's already been here too long.