#and . once again. she was not. in the room. for the majority of set build or us singing while we swept.

[lighthouseas]

on another note i fucking hate my theater director. lol

.

[lumillsie]

ೃ⁀➷ being jun-ho's s/o would include ¡!

in which you're romantically involved with the police officer doing his best to find his brother and put a stop to the squid games

a/n : lots of love to my dearest friend @angelseraphines for not only getting me into this brilliantly-written show, but also for looking over my fic to double-check my characterisation and to give me a second opinion on it. if you aren't already following her, please go ahead and make sure that you do so 🙏

also this turned into a full-on fic please just roll with the punches 🙏bit of a cliche first date but I fear that I have very little dating experience so you guys are gonna have to deal with that, I fear.

╰┈➤ it was the middle of winter when you met the policeman for the first time. the air was crisp and frigid, icicles were hanging from rooftops and everywhere you turned you could see colourful outfits in contrast with the white snow and hear the sound of shovels scraping against sidewalks. a kind-eyed man in a reflective green vest caught your attention at the same time a car smacked a young woman and drove off.

╰┈➤ you stepped forward to testify, wanting to help out the woman. she thankfully didn't appear to be in critical danger, save for the bruising on her hip and the apparent fracture in her left hand — and so you headed off with them to the station to give your statement. the woman was allowed to give her statement and leave immediately, due to the obvious state her hand was in and her need to visit a hospital. you were left then with the kind-eyed officer from earlier, who brought you a sizzling cup of hot chocolate and sat down to wait with you until you could sign off on your witness testimony.

╰┈➤ talking with him was so relaxing for you. it felt as if you had known him for years and the banter between you and him felt natural and light. you couldn't remember when was the last time you laughed that much — little did you know that he felt the same way.

╰┈➤ as you headed off to leave, your eyes searched for him amongst the worn-out chairs and stacked files. you wanted a chance to say goodbye, regardless of the dread gathering in your chest at the thought that you'd never see him again. you were disappointed when one of his colleagues informed you that he had to head off back to his post — that was until you were handed a slip of paper with his name and number on it. he was far too professional to make the move himself, but his colleague could see you two liked one another and took it upon himself to push you towards him. with a grateful smile and a glint of unadulterated joy in your eyes, you left the building and headed off to meet up with the friend you'd made plans with that day. you would be a little late, but you were sure she wouldn't mind once you told her about your day.

╰┈➤ admittedly, it took you a couple of days to call the handsome officer, whose name you now knew to be hwang jun-ho. every time you picked up the phone, your legs would become jittery and you'd find yourself pacing around your room. a little seed of doubt took its root within you, but on the fourth day you finally gave in and pressed the call button. once he recognised your voice, his lips curled into a smile on the other end of the line. he was a bit concerned when his colleague gave you his number, but he was glad to see that you weren't put off by it. on that cold winter's night, you talked and talked until you both fell asleep grasping your phones, the line still on.

╰┈➤ these cozy evening calls became routine for the two of you, with him initiating them when he got off work. you learned more about him — that he was close with his mom, that he was set to get a promotion soon and that he wanted to work in major crimes as a detective someday and that he would often look in on his brother when he had some spare time. he didn't talk much about him, but you got the feeling that whatever it was his brother experienced wasn't something you wanted to press him much on — so you didn't. he made the effort to ask you more about yourself as well, so you talked to him about your job, your family, and your friends. you talked to him about your hobbies, the places you wanted to visit, and the things that made you happy. neither of you had ever really felt so comfortable, so quickly with another person — it was a lovely feeling, one that you both desperately latched onto.

╰┈➤ a couple of weeks after you started talking, jun-ho finally managed to get a day off. his tone of voice was dignified, yet dulcet as he invited you to go see a movie and then to dinner with him. you replied immediately and enthusiastically, gripping the phone so tightly in your hand that it almost felt like you could break it if you squeezed it in just a slightly tighter manner.

╰┈➤ like a true gentleman, he picked you up from your apartment on the day of the date and you found yourself glancing at him admiringly as he drove, trying his hardest to keep his eyes on the road and not on you. when you arrived at the cinema, you were surprised to see that the movie he got tickets for was the one you'd been raving to him about for weeks. "I wasn't sure if you wanted to go see it with a friend, but I figured it would make for a pretty good first date" he admitted with a hint of humour in his voice. you responded by telling him you thought it was a wonderful idea.

╰┈➤ the cinema hall was dark, illuminated only by the gleam of the screen as the opening scene of the movie was unfolding. he had to admit that the plot was intriguing, but he found himself glancing down at you every so often. halfway through the film, he found the courage to extend his hand, and you grasped it into yours as gleeful smile made its way onto your face. even as your hands began to feel a bit sweaty, you couldn't bring yourselves to let go.

╰┈➤ on the way to the restaurant, you launched yourselves into a proper conversation about the movie, laughing and joking about its points and twists as the rosy sunset gave way to a melancholy dusk. the staff and guests moved around in a lively manner, as the sound of glass and ceramic reverbated through the room — and the view from the windows was absolutely breathtaking. you could tell that he'd done his best to keep your preferences in mind when he was looking for a place to take you to. you held his hand across the table as you waited for the food to arrive, and you spent the better part of the evening comfortably talking to one another. every so often, his eyes would dart to your lips, but he made no move to reach across the table — not yet, at least.

╰┈➤ his shoes were crunching on the frozen ground as he followed you to your front door, and as you turned back to see your goodbye, he leaned in and gave you a gentle kiss on the lips — one which you eagerly reciprocated. he pressed a gentle kiss to both of your hands before he departed, and he called you once again as he got home.

╰┈➤ it didn't take long after that for the two of you to become an official couple. you began to visit him at work when you had the time, and he'd take an hour or two after work was done to slip by and spend some time with you. you would lounge on your couch with a glass of wine in your hand — if he was staying the night he'd drink a few too, and if he wasn't then he'd drink some tea.

╰┈➤ he would feel awful about waking you early in the morning when he had to return to his apartment and get ready for work, but he always made sure to write you a note and find your kettle so you could boil water for tea or coffee when you got up. he always kissed your forehead and whispered a sentence or two of affection before he left. he knew you couldn't hear him, but he felt the need to say them nonetheless.

╰┈➤ realistically, it wouldn't take long for you to meet his mother and brother. jun-ho always made time to visit her, and in-ho had given him his kidney. they were a close-knit family and he wanted the people most important to him to meet the person he was rapidly becoming more and more serious with. his brother seemed quiet and solemn, but he wasn't unkind. save for your greeting and goodbye, you only exchanged a few awkward words — most of which were just polite questions. you got the underlying feeling that he was a very tormented man, and the sight of a family photo on the counter with his arms wrapped around an unfamiliar woman confirmed your suspicions. jun-ho's mother, on the other hand, was incredibly warm and welcoming. she trusted her son's judgement, and she embraced you as if she'd met you a thousand times before. she prepared a fantastic meal, and she showed you photos of jun-ho and in-ho throughout their childhood. your joyous laughter echoed through the room as the younger of the two brothers covered his face with his hands. when it was time to return home, you found yourself hesitant to leave the warm atmosphere of the older woman's apartment — she made you promise to come visit her often. you agreed enthusiastically.

╰┈➤ when you returned home that evening, you asked him about his brother. he opened up to you then, about all the things he'd never really talked about. about the week his brother went missing a couple of years ago, about the death of his brother's pregnant wife and about the kidney he received from his brother. his voice was on the verge of breaking as he uttered out one string of words after the other, and his eyes began to gloss over. you held him close then, and from that moment on it was as if he could tell you anything — trust you with everything. it was the turning point between being two people who truly liked eachother to being partners.

╰┈➤ the change from living apart to living together was pretty seamless. at one point, you both realised that most of his stuff was already at your place and you just ended up moving the rest of it in. from that point on, he never really had to worry about going back to his place or getting up extremely early to get ready for work. you'd stay awake huddled under the blankets with his arms wrapped around you as you kept one another up to date with what you got up to during the day, and what you wanted to do as soon as you found some free time.

╰┈➤ if you're out together and he sensed that the chill from the cold weather outside is getting to you, he'd sneakily slip his jacket around your shoulders and offer you a teasing quip as he zipped it up with a light smirk on his face. your protests of not being that cold would be met with an exasperated look.

╰┈➤ you didn't hear him the first time he told you he loved you. as he kissed your forehead and whispered to you in the morning, it simply slipped out. he didn't realise it until he spoke it out loud. when he returned home that evening, those were the first words out of his mouth — and you said it back. after that, he always made to include his declarations of love in his morning notes, and they were the first and last words on his lips each time you said your helloes and goodbyes.

╰┈➤ you're there for him as he climbs the ranks in the police, and you'll never forget the look on his face when he came home with the news of finally receiving his promotion to detective. he spun you around as he placed kisses on your face, and you leaned in and kissed him with passion to show him just how proud of him you were. he took you out to celebrate that evening, and he took you to the same restaurant where you had your first date. it would go on to become your go-to place for celebrating special occasions. the following day, you went to visit his mother. tears of joy slipped from her eyes as she embraced him, and it wasn't long before she drew you into her embrace as well. it was the first time you saw something that didn't look like grief or sadness in his brother's eyes. you saw pride.

╰┈➤ he definitely wants to get married, and the two of you have talked about it, but both of you want to have a wedding when the entire family feels like they can actually celebrate. the dark cloud of grief that seems to constantly hang over in-ho's head has encouraged you both to wait a while. regardless, you two have already discussed so many of the details — the song you'd like to have for your first dance, the colour palette, the season when you'd like to have it in and where.

╰┈➤ he's incredibly observant, a trait that has helped him in both his private and professional life. he remembers the little things about you — he keeps track of the things you talk to him about, notes the ways in which your features contort when you see something you like or dislike, and goes out of his way to make your life easier in small ways.

╰┈➤ when you are both too tired to get ready and get ready for a proper date, but still want to do more than simply stay inside the whole time, he'll take you for a drive around the city. sometimes you get stuck in traffic, sometimes you get to breeze through the vibrant streets. for these dates, you have two playlists — one made up of both yours and his favourite songs, and another made up of ballads and romantic declarations weaved into music. which one you end up putting on depends on the atmosphere, but the second one tends to be the one you play when you park atop a cliff and take some time to glance at the stars.

╰┈➤ he rarely ever gets jealous, because he's confident in your relationship and he trusts you. that being said, he is incredibly protective — and he's always watching out for you. this bleeds into his affectionate nature, and the hand wrapped around your shoulder when you're out and about means two things. one, that he wants to be close to you and this is his way of expressing it. two, that he's warding off any unwanted attention and anybody who would seek to do you harm. he's a detective, so of course he's great at multi-tasking.

╰┈➤ while he mostly saves flowers for special occasions, he goes out of his way to get you baked goods when he's on his way back from work. you remarked once on how the pastries he brought you from the bakery near his station reminded you of something you ate regularly in your childhood, and he was nothing if not attentive. he didn't always bring home the same stuff — but he kept track of which treats you were craving the most and acted accordingly.

╰┈➤ if you get caught out in the rain, he's the type of guy who will keep his jacket above your head to try and keep you from getting drenched by the rainfall — or at the very least drape it around you, if you're wearing something that becomes see-through when it comes into contact with water. his focus is on your comfort in those moments.

╰┈➤ he finally proposed to you on your three-year anniversary, at the same restaurant where the two of you had your first date. while marriage was something you discussed, he still managed to surprise you with the proposal, and you agreed with tears welling in your eyes and your heart thumping nearly out of your chest. one of the first people you called was his mother, and you made sure to send the colleague that slipped you jun-ho's number a baskets of flowers and baked goods. he left a good portion of the planning to you, as busy as he is with his job, but he always offered his opinion and showed you that he cared immensely when you'd ask him for it.

╰┈➤ a couple of months after you announced your engagement, and with preparations underway — his brother disappeared. this wasn't the first time of course, but it was only the second time he didn't leave a message or let anyone know of his whereabouts. the last time this happened, his pregnant wife passed away, so naturally you, jun-ho and his mother were all worried. a couple of days into his brother's disappearance, your fiancee called to tell you that he was following a lead on his brother's disappearance — something with slip of cardboard with weird symbols and some man his colleagues perceived as crazy. after that, you couldn't get hold of him.

╰┈➤ when he did resurface, a couple of weeks later, he turned up bloodied and with a bullet in his shoulder on some old sea captain's boat. you looked after him then, tending to his wound and making sure that it didn't get infected, redressing it, and helping him with mundane tasks he struggled with now that his shoulder was injured. he was eerily secretive about it at first, and all you knew was the tidbits you managed to get from his coworkers — about some strange island and some sickening freaks making indebted people play children's games and then killing them for sport. you were confused, but you didn't press him until he was ready to talk to you about it.

╰┈➤ in the dark of the night, as he was leaning on the bathroom sink and you were pressing cold ice against the torn and injured flesh left by an unknown man's gun, he started talking to you about it. about following the strange man into a limousine where they doused all the passengers with some sleeping agent, about sneaking onto a ship and strangling one of the workers there, consequently tossing his body into the depths of the vast sea. as he spoke about all the death he witnessed, about the man with one kidney the workers cut up and whose organs they trafficked, about the sickening rich man who attempted to force himself onto him and about escaping the island, only to be tracked down as he attempted to send the proof he'd gathered and was met with horrendous cell signal and a masked man's gun. he didn't tell you about his brother, couldn't condemn him in such a way. that was the only part he kept to himself.

╰┈➤ your habit of staying up together in the night became more frequent than it had ever been. when he did sleep, he was always mumbling something about in-ho and the lines on his forehead and the manner in which he was squeezing his eyes made him look nearly as if he was in pain. you would coax him back from the turmoil he was re-experiencing in his sleep and into reality. neither of you went back to sleep on nights like those, and his grasp on you was so firm as if he was afraid you might disappear if he attempted to loosen it.

╰┈➤ he'd quit his job and went back to handling traffic then, and you understood he needed his time to grieve — a reprieve from death and the most distorted cases that hit the station's desk. you got married soon after, as the realisation that life was far too short to worry about semantics settled in his bones, and the fear of losing him intensified in you after what he'd gone through. you still kept the most important parts of what you'd planned out - the song for your first dance, the place where you wanted to celebrate, the people you wanted in roles of honour. it was a small and private affair, witnessed only by those the two of you felt were most deserving and close. you hoped to hold another celebration once in-ho returned, if he ever did — your husband already knew that he would not.

╰┈➤ once he starts working with gi-hun, he fills you in on what they're doing. he doesn't want you to worry, he couldn't put you through what you experienced back when you didn't know if he was dead or alive. you demand that they let you in, that they allow you to help them look for the man in the black mask. you couldn't stomach the thought of him setting off with you again, to do something so perilous and frightening. he's hesitant at first, and refuses to even consider the idea. upon realising that you don't intend to give up, and that you'll join him for it whether he likes it or not — he relents, but demands you don't put yourself in harm's way.

╰┈➤ on the night of halloween, as you all set out to find whoever is behind the black mask of the games' frontman, you head off with gi-hun. jun-ho worries about letting you go, but he still has faith in his brother not causing you any harm. he doesn't expect you to end up in the limo with gi-hun, as they take him back to the island for another week of twisted, death games.

a/n : thank you so much for reading this! if you find any inaccuracies with the show itself or with korean culture, please go out of your way to let me know how I may improve upon them and fix my mistakes 🙏🙏 I'm grateful to you for taking the time to read this fic, this is actually the first time I managed to finish a fic in a day (as opposed to my regular routine of taking a whole week to wrap up one set of headcanons). as always, I'm tagging other characters to increase my outreach, but the characters I'm tagging are only the ones I also write for — in case you want to request anything for them.

[mmywanda]

Dandelion — W.M

chapter one of Forbidden Pleasure

—

Pairing: CEO!WandaMaximoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: When you decided to join your family's business, you had no idea the ceo of the rival company would be so.. alluring. men & minors dni!

Warnings: None.. yet ;)

Word count: 3.7k

A/N: My first series! I promise it’s going to get more exciting soon, this was just setting things up.

Beta read by @poulengp <3

—

You'd never been into business. Despite your family being famous for their own very successful company, Nexus. No, you preferred working in that little library, where it was quiet, and the most stressful it got was when someone returned their books too late. Why would you want to be involved in a business full of money hungry people who think of nothing but financial success?

So that was precisely what you told your father when he called you up one Saturday morning, trying to persuade you into following in the footsteps of the majority of your family. And what didn't help your case was the fact you'd be laid off from your job, as there wasn't enough funding in the library to keep all four employees.

"I don't want to be a part of it, dad, I've told you this so many times." You spoke between chews, the crunch of your slightly burnt toast echoing through the call.

"You're twenty two, (Y/N), it's time you step up and join us. You could be valuable to the team."

You rolled your eyes, "And what value would that be?" Both of you knew that you'd passed through college with barely average results, and was lucky to have found a decently paying job that didn't require better grades.

"You're good with people, we need that."

Glancing over at the small stack of bills across you on the kitchen table, you sighed. "I don't want it to change me." What if you turned into an emotionless robot? And had to work behind a desk everyday? And that desk may be on the twenty fourth level of a glass tower building?

"You won't change, I know you."

Doubt swirled around in your mind, eyes scanning the small apartment you lived in. You would have to find a job soon, though it would be difficult given your low qualifications and lack of experience. Here you were, being offered a job that would most likely be well paying.

"Fine. I'll do it."

—

The first matter of business was shopping. Your wardrobe consisted of cardigans, faded jeans, a skirt you refused to ever wear again and a few shirts that looked very outdated compared to the modern city you lived in.

Walking into a clothing store that wasn't your typical go-to was scary. You'd chosen a different one so you could find more professional outfits— because you'd probably be kicked out of the office if you were to walk in wearing your usual attire.

"May I offer you some assistance?" A woman appeared in front of you almost two seconds after you'd stepped through the automatic doors. Her eyes scanned you, as it was obvious this was your first time in that store.

You smiled, shaking your head, "No, it's okay thank you. I'm just browsing." When she left with a nod, you walked to the pants section, looking at the wide selection of styles, material and colours. You didn't even know where to begin. Eventually you decided that darker shades like grey, black or navy would be appropriate. Picking a few out, you folded them over your arm, ready for the dressing room later.

Next was shirts, that just like the pants, had a very large selection, perhaps even more. A sigh left your lips.

Twenty minutes later you'd accumulated clothing items and two pairs of shoes. It was a bit of a struggle to get to the dressing rooms, and once inside a cubicle, you dropped the pile onto the stool. Another sigh left your lips. Is this what business people went through every year? Well, probably every month, based on what you knew of business people. Granted, your only knowledge of business style was from The Office, and it wasn't like that show was renowned for its fashion sense.

Trying on a few outfits, matching different things, you decided on what you would purchase. Making your way to the cashiers, you avoided the gaze of the store assistant.

"That will be three hundred and eleven dollars, fifty cents." The cashier's bright smile almost smoothed over your shock, but not quite. Three hundred and eleven dollars?!

As much as you wanted to apologise and leave to find a store that had cheaper prices, you wouldn't be able to handle the judgemental stare of that woman. So, you got your card out and pressed it against the card reader. When it let out a double beep, indicating it hadn't been approved, you tried again, to which the cashier said, "You have to put your card in. The contactless limit is two hundred."

Your face flushed. If it wasn't obvious that you hadn't spent this much money before, it was now.

That evening, you laid on your couch, staring at the cracks in your ceiling, instant ramen in a bowl, cooling down from its boiling temperature. You thought about what would happen tomorrow, your first day in the office. Well, you knew you wouldn't have a desk job exactly, you'd be more like an assistant to any of the managers or executives— whatever that meant.

Trying to shake your mind of all the worries, you ate your ramen, despite it burning your tongue. At least it was a distraction from the overthinking anyway.

—

You woke up with a start, phone alarm blaring. Your first instinct was to sit up, but an ache in your neck forced you to pause. It seemed you'd fallen asleep on the couch, head having been in an awkward position all night. You thanked the you from yesterday who set the alarm in preparation and had placed the phone beside you.

It didn't take long to put your chosen outfit on, but what did take long was pleasing the perfectionist in you. You stood in front of the mirror for a while, adjusting your hair this way and that, fiddling with the simple silver necklace you were wearing.

"It's no big deal, (Y/N), you're not going to meet anyone important on your first day."

That's what you kept telling yourself during your journey to the office building. It took a train and a four minute walk until you reached your destination. Walking into the lobby, you were struck by how sharp, clean and unnecessarily big it was. Pale marble flooring, bright white walls, even brighter ceiling lights despite it being a sunny day outside. And the very large 'NEXUS' logo on the far wall. Your shoes squeaked against the marble, and you wondered what sort of material the soles were made out of. Perhaps the marble was made to mock people with shoes worth less than a thousand dollars.

"How may I help you?" The receptionist asked as you approached him. You smiled, masking your nerves.

"I'm (Y/N), I'm meant to be starting my job today."

He nodded quickly, suddenly sitting up straighter, you assumed because he believed he would get in trouble if he wasn't the most professional he could be in front of his boss's daughter. You then noticed his name badge that read 'Evan'.

Evan picked up the reception phone, tapping a few numbers before speaking, telling someone that you had arrived. The conversation was short.

"Take the elevator to the ninth floor, first door on the right." He pointed you in the right direction. You gave him your thanks and then found yourself inside the small metal box also known as an elevator. You hated them, though you guessed it would have to become part of your routine now.

Once arriving on the ninth floor, you examined the decor— plain walls with an occasional framed art piece (the kind that looked like a toddler had painted that would sell for millions).

Hearing distant voices coming from various closed doors, you decided dallying wouldn't make the start of shift any easier. You found the first door on the right, knocking lightly until you heard a familiar voice call out— "Come in." So you did.

The office was spacious, a desk in the middle, and seating behind it was your father. He gave you a warm smile, standing up with an outstretched hand. You mentally sighed at his usual strange way of greeting family members. You shook his hand before taking a seat in front of him.

"It's good to see you here, when was the last time you visited?" He prompted, clicking his silver pen against the table.

"A few years ago, the Christmas party."

You remembered it begrudgingly. The night you fell onto a table that happened to be seating several ice filled buckets for the champagne. Let's just say it was an extremely humiliating memory that always made you shiver. The chill of the ice had never quite escaped you.

Your father chuckled, nodding as he recalled the same night. "Ah, yes. How could I forget." You rolled your eyes, refusing to smile until he changed the subject. "Anyway, let's talk business."

He pulled out a new planner journal, handing it to you. Flicking through it, you noticed a lot of dates neatly jotted in. You gave him a questioning look.

"My assistant kindly added important dates and meetings."

Your eyes widened slightly, "I'm going to join meetings?" That was something you hadn't expected.

"As a note taker, for now." His expression showed how keen he was for you to progress in your role and reach a high position in the company on your own. He wasn't going to get you a higher job just because you were his kid.

Scanning the dates written down for the current week, you saw there was a meeting scheduled for today. Anxiety immediately bubbled inside you at the thought of being in such a professional setting with equally professional people, as an inexperienced ex-librarian.

"Don't worry, (Y/N). It's not a huge deal." He hesitated, before correcting himself. "Okay, it is a big deal."

You groaned, leaning back in the chair that you had to admit was very uncomfortable. "What is it about? Stock shares or something?" It was very obvious that you pulled the term out of your very limited knowledge on business that lived in the back of your brain, because your father's eyebrows creased in amusement.

"It's our annual meeting with Maximoff Industries. And let's just say our companies have difficulty clicking."

The name 'Maximoff Industries' was familiar. You knew that they created things in the technology area, and as it so happened, Nexus did too, so it was no wonder they didn't 'click'.

"How do they normally go?" You had to gauge how terrible the experience would be for you. Scenarios ran through your mind, the most rational being; raised tones, interrupted sentences, perhaps even a few cold glares (gasp).

"We have a small partnership in a few products, so the disagreements normally stem from financial shares, and what name is listed first under the annual report. It normally ends in a handshake though." He attempted a smile, but it was clear that he had a very strong distaste for Maximoff Industries. "It doesn't help that their CEO, Wanda Maximoff is a.. difficult person to get along with in terms of business."

"Why?" You asked, wanting to know what to expect in the meeting, even if you were going to be sitting in the corner.

Your father sighed, leaning back in his chair. "She's.." He thought for a long hard moment. "She has this look, like she knows more than you, like she's superior. And she very obviously craves control over every situation without explicitly expressing it. It's infuriating, but hard to explain."

It didn't seem like much to go on; having a certain expression and craving control. Wasn't that a description of half of the earth's population?

Your father checked his watch, "It's going to start in twenty minutes." You internally panicked, because you hadn't expected things to start so soon. He smiled kindly, leaning forward in his chair a bit.

"It's okay, (Y/N), you're not going to be talking." That didn't exactly reassure you, because it meant you would have to maintain a calm act in case anyone looked your way.

"Alright, let's do this." Faking positivity was the first step, right?

—

The meeting room was empty when you and other representatives from Nexus walked in, including your father. They all took their seats, presumably their allocated ones. There was a chair set aside from the very long table, which you guessed was for you. Sliding it backwards a bit, you sat, spending a very awkward minute trying to decide how to position your legs. Should you cross them or not? Before you could come to a decision, you heard people entering the room.

You looked up, counting five very professional looking businesspeople. Thinking that was all, you opened your notebook, until you sensed one last presence. Glancing across the room, a woman entered.

She was dressed in a black suit, white shirt and heels. Hair brunette with lighter streaks, eyes a deep shade of green. But the overriding feature of this woman was her aura. Everyone in the room fell silent, most of the Nexus members seemed to have a polite but forced smile.

"Ms Maximoff, it's good to see you." Your father announced, making a small gesture with his hand to indicate for the woman to sit at the opposite end of the table— although she'd already done so.

"Yes, it's a pleasure, Julian." Wanda Maximoff replied, her tone smooth, with an underlying accent you hadn't heard before. It was very alluring all the same. You noticed she'd addressed your father by his first name.

"How have you been? I heard y—" Your father began, until he was cut off.

"Let's just get to business, shall we?" Wanda's hands rested on top of the table, revealing her many intricate and no doubt expensive silver rings.

"Oh, yes." Julian cleared his throat, gesturing to his coworker, a manager to start the presentation. You tried your best to quickly note down the points the manager was making, including comments from the other company.

But you felt your attention slipping, because from your angle, Wanda Maximoff was just to the left of the presentation screen. You were inexplicably drawn to her, the way she held herself, and not to mention her immense beauty.

You were suddenly startled when the face you were staring at turned, green eyes locking with yours. All oxygen left your lungs, not from panic of being caught staring during a professional meeting, but because Wanda Maximoff was piercing. Though her head tilted back to the presentation. Finally you were able to breathe, fingers gripping the notebook edges.

"So what's the point of decreasing the amount of products manufactured if it's in high demand?" Wanda questioned, leaning back in her seat slightly, directing the question towards your father instead of the manager.

He paused, thinking through his answer before replying. "Retailers are going to be bidding higher prices in order to stock it."

Wanda Maximoff's eyebrows quirked, a slight upturn of her lips now revealing to you what your father had described earlier; The Look. It indeed felt like she was in control, as if she was negotiating a deal with a child.

"Why don't we ask someone else's opinion?" Wanda's eyes snapped to you. Horror rushed through you as everyone followed Wanda's directed stare. All eyes were on you.

You felt your face heat up, having absolutely no idea what to say or do other than look towards your father helplessly. He nodded his head, as if urging me to speak so they could move on quickly.

"Uh—" Words were failing you. Wanda's expression shifted from expectancy to amusement. She was enjoying your embarrassment, it seemed. "I think it could work.. people tend to want to buy things that are exclusive." You didn't have anything to base that opinion on, but you hoped it sounded more certain than it did in your head.

Wanda's stare remained on you for a few agonising seconds before nodding once, accepting your answer. "Let's take ten, my team need to discuss this." Everyone nodded quickly in agreement. The Nexus members waited for the others to leave the room, but they didn't. Your father let out a very quiet but infuriated sigh at Wanda's blank though slightly smug expression . He stood, muttering to everyone to leave with him, including you. You'd never exited a room so quickly.

Once you were a few metres down the corridor, you exhaled, leaning against the wall, the conversation between your company distant to your ears. You were busy calming down from the humiliation. You hadn't felt this way since falling into a table with ice buckets in this very building.

Why had Wanda singled you out? Surely she knew how uncomfortable that would be for someone who was clearly new.

You needed water. Luckily you knew of the staff lounge that had a supply of refreshments.

The 'lounge' was thankfully empty, consisting of several pristine couches and counter with a kettle and an array of coffees and teas. You headed towards the water cooler. Grabbing a small paper cup, you flicked on the switch for the water to start filling the cup slowly. It was when it reached the halfway mark that you were startled by a voice.

"It's an interesting opinion that you have."

You spun around, facing Wanda Maximoff. It was hard to breathe again.

"Do you know a lot about consumer behaviour?" She asked, emerald eyes fixed on yours. The question stunned you for a moment, not entirely understanding. But you'd done enough reading to be able to guess what her words meant.

"Not really, I just notice what people around me seem to buy." Good, you're doing good— you told yourself.

"You don't do the buying?" She asked, head slightly tilted to the side.

You let out a nervous chuckle, shaking your head. "Oh, no. I'm the type to keep something until it's completely incapable of doing its job." For example; your toaster.

Wanda's lips twitched into a smile that almost felt like a smirk. "That's an unfortunate attitude to have when you're working in this industry." You swallowed, throat feeling very dry as you still hadn't had that water yet. Wanda seemed to finally notice the cup in your hand.

"Drink."

The simple word felt like a command, and you found yourself raising your cup without hesitation and taking a gulp of water. It felt like a relief to your dry throat. The woman's smile was now definitely a smirk, though what she was smirking at, you didn't know.

"I haven't seen you around here before. When did you start?" The question was a simple one, but the way Wanda delivered it made it seem a lot more important, like she actually interested.

You were just glad it was an easy one to answer. "Today, actually."

She nodded slowly, "You're Julian's daughter?"

"Yeah, he's wanted me here for a while, and I needed a job." You had to tell yourself to just chill out, because you were starting to overthink your answers, despite there being no need to.

Wanda reached a hand out to tuck some of her hair behind her ear, inadvertently directing your attention to her hands. The silver rings shaped her fingers perfectly, the dark red varnish on her nails standing out as they brushed against her hair. You swallowed, forcing yourself to look away.

"Those plants look half dead."

Your eyebrows raised at her very random statement. Since when did plants become a part of the conversation? You went along with it, noticing the few potted plants and vases with flowers that did look very wilted.

"Do you know the name of that one?" Wanda pointed to a specific plant, green leaves and yellow flowers. You knew nothing about plants.

"Tulip?" It was more of a question than an answer. Wanda let out a chuckle at your painfully wrong answer. She shook her head in amusement.

"Dandelion." She stated, suddenly studying you with some type of curiosity and intrigue. "You remind me of a dandelion."

Your expression was quizzical, wondering why a yellow flower could be associated to you in any kind of way. "Why?"

Wanda smiled mysteriously, carefully leaving the question unanswered as she checked her watch. You could tell by the watch strap alone that it was probably worth more than your student debt. "The break is over." And with that, she began walking away, her heels clicking against the floor. You were stunned for a few seconds before snapping out of it. Realising that the cup was still in your hand, you threw it away, walking as quickly as you could back to the meeting room without embarrassing yourself.

Everyone was in the room by the time you'd survived the walk back. You kept your eyes down and sat in your corner (of shame). The conversations started again, and you tried your best, yet again, to make notes. It was a bit easier to concentrate as Wanda hadn't done any talking yet.

It was boring, really, listening to your father and Maximoff Industries' representatives disagree on very simple things like the font for whatever the damn products they wanted to sell.

Finally, Wanda spoke up after listening to the conversation she appeared to have found just as boring as you had. "Let's do it. Less products for higher sales, as ridiculous as it sounds. Though, something would have to be put in place.”

You glanced up from your notebook, pen hovering above the page. Even Wanda’s own coworkers seemed confused.

“I will have regular meetings with a representative from Nexus, just so I can keep up to date with your side of this new decision.”

You could practically see the cogs in your father’s brain whirring, as he probably didn’t know now if this new idea would be a mistake. He cleared his throat. “Okay, I’ll look at my schedu—“

“It will be (Y/N).” Wanda stated clearly. Once again, you found all attention on you. You were just as bewildered as the other surprised faces.

“Me?” You uttered, cheeks flushed at the idea of Wanda Maximoff wanting to meet you again.

A smile twitched on your lips as she studied you from across the room. You felt the presences around you fade away when your eyes locked with green ones. She spoke in a slow but deliberate way, “You will accept, won’t you?”

Without thinking twice, you simply replied, “Yes.”

—

[natalievoncatte]

Content Warning: This is a dark, angsty ficlet. There’s major character death. (They get better)

Kara gave the last of the trees a meaty shove and clapped her hands lightly, to shake off the dirt and tree bark that clung to her palms. She’d been called away from National City about twenty minutes ago to respond to a catastrophic landslide in Oregon that looked like a job for Supergirl. The villain trade had been a little light lately ever since the League went public, and she heard-

A thin crackle.

“Kara, get back to the Tower,” it was Alex, and her voice was strained, trembling. “Come back here right now. Directly here. Don’t stop anywhere and get here as fast as you can.”

Her feet had already left the ground by the time Alex had finished her message. Kara took off and ascended almost straight up, so that when she went hypersonic it didn’t harm anyone below.

“Alex?” she called, as she came in for a landing on the balcony. “What is it?”

Alex was inside with the others, wearing her costume but not her makeup or mask. She was deathly pale and her eyes were red rimmed and puffy from crying. Her voice hitched.

“I don’t know how to tell you this,” Alex began.

Kara’s stomach dropped.

“Tell me what?”

Alex went still, as if the words would not leave her. Kara could see her straining with the effort, cords standing out on her throat.

“Tell me what?”

“I… I can’t do this…”

“Tell me what?” Kara demanded.

“Lena’s been shot.”

Kara stared at her. Her eyes went wide and she felt a cold rush through her body as if someone had opened a door behind her into a blizzard.

“Where is she?”

“Kara, try to stay calm, let me-“

“I want to see her now, Alex. Where is she?”

Alex swallowed.

“She’s, ah, gone, Kara.”

“Gone where?”

“They tried to resuscitate her, but there was too much damage to her heart.”

“Okay, so we need a transplant? Do we have a candidate? Or an artificial one? She probably has one in her lab.”

A manic frenzy began to overtake her, as though energy crackled down her limbs. What Alex was saying made no sense. Lena wouldn’t need to be resuscitated. She was fine. She had to be fine. Lena was fine. That was that. Kara would go wait for her in her hospital room by the bedside, and-

“She passed, Kara. She didn’t make it.”

Kara blinked.

“Didn’t… make it… passed… you mean she… wait… Alex what the fuck are you saying to me?”

Alex looked away, hugging herself.

“She died, Kara. Lena’s gone.”

She stood there for a shocked instant, paralyzed, some part of her mind shielding her from the full implication of what she just heard.

Then it slammed into her like a freight train. Like an earthquake. Like the shockwave from her exploding home world. Kara had been off saving some rich fuck’s house from fucking mud and Lena was dead. Lena was dead. Lena was-

Kara screamed.

The initial blast blew Alex off her feet and sent her sliding a good ten feet across the floor as she clapped her hands over her ears. Every window and every piece of glass in the Tower shattered at once and every one in the surrounding buildings cracked. All over the city, dogs began barking.

When Kara fell to her knees, the world around her was rimed with frost; her wail had been an arctic blast. Alex sat up, staring at the blood on her palms that had trickled from her ears. Some distant, emotionally controlled, Kryptonian part of her concluded that she’d probably just destroyed her sister’s eardrums.

Alex was trying to say something but the words didn’t reach her. Everything was far away, on the other side of a low whine in her ears and the sound of her own rushing blood in her veins. Red-sun fire boiled within her, setting her eyes alight and wreathing her in vapor as her tears turned to steam.

“Kara,” she finally heard Alex say, but it was too late.

She flew straight up, heedless of the rent she tore in the roof of the Tower as she took flight. She screamed again, a wail of primal torment and rage, and the world went silent.

Truly silent.

The one sound she always listened for above all others was not there. The steady drum beat was not there. Kara lashed out at herself, tearing at fistfuls of her hair.

An inescapable certainty seized her: Lena had died knowing Kara was not going to save her.

Another scream, followed by twin beams of infinite heat blasting skyward like a false sunrise, bathing the world below in crimson hues. Part of her wanted to sweep her gaze down and burn it all, just start smashing and tossing and punching and wreck everything she could lay her hands on.

Her family, her home, her culture, her foster father, her aunt, they were all taken from her. Kara gave and gave and gave and no matter how she martyred herself the world just kept taking.

They took her Lena.

Kara looked down. Rage burned furnace hot inside her chest, threatening to consume her. Why wasn’t someone protecting her? Why was this allowed to happen? Someone just shot her?

She would find who did it and she would end him. She’d tear him to shreds with her bare hands and she would know who was responsible for this and she would smash and burn her way to them and they would pay. She would make them pay.

And her Lena would still be gone.

Nothing Kara could do would bring her back. She was helpless. She crushed her head in her hands and screamed and screamed again; there were military aircraft and police helicopters approaching and she didn’t care.

It was as if some great hooked claws had rent her open, as if every single one of her old wounds had burst at once. Kara had died for this world twice over and this was how they repaid her?

It was worse than that.

In her miserable fucking cowardice Kara has never told her.

Lena would never know how much Kara loved her. She would never smile for Kara again, never crinkle around her eyes as she laughed or look so achingly beautiful as she became lost in some scientific problem or journal article. She had been Kara’s red sunrise and now the sun was set forever.

There was no bringing her back.

Wait.

Kara’s eyes flew open.

There was a way. Clark had confessed it to her, and warned her never to try it.

Fuck that.

Kara rocketed straight up, tearing through the atmosphere until the void clapped straight around her. She had to be free of all resistance, not because it would slow her, but because she would ignite the atmosphere. This might not even work. She might solar flare right in the middle of it and die.

Maybe if she did she’d be with Lena. Maybe Rao would actually do something for her for once and she’d find herself in sunlit fields under a red sky with her Lena there for her.

Anything had to be better than this.

Kara flew. She put every iota of force she could muster into her flight, curving around the Earth. Within moments she was making complete orbits every few seconds.

It’s working, she thought. The red shift.

At this speed, all suns were red. The sky was an endless chaos of red pinpricks.

Faster.

Kara didn’t know how she flew. Not even her precious Lena had been able to crack that question, and she’s tried. Kara had never attempted to find her top speed, never tried to find out how fast she could go.

She could go faster.

Beneath her, Earth was frozen. When she used her super-speed, her mind sped up with it, and everything slowed to a crawl.

She was close now, she could feel it. She just had to go faster.

Faster.

FASTER

And she did.

The stars were gone. The Earth was gone. There was only endless black and-

Void. Nothingness. It had no color, nothing to actually see, just a limitless nothing.

Almost. There was one thing in the darkness, in the endless Outside.

“Clark?”

He was there with her in the void, just there, cape and spitcurl and all. Clark. Kal-El. Kara’s final mission from her people and the greatest of her many failures. Her cousin.

“What happened?” he said.

“It’s Lena,” Kara blurted.

He looked at her with big sad eyes. “Do you mean Lex’s sister?”

Kara blinked. “Who the hell else would I mean, Clark?”

“Oh,” he said. “When I got here you two hadn’t met yet, I suppose. You’re friends with her?”

Kara looked at him.

“Where are we?”

“The other side of the speed of light. This is what happens when you go superluminal without a warp drive or a hypergate.”

Kara flinched back.

“From your perspective you haven’t left yet,” said Kara. But how did…”

Her eyes went wide. Of course. She didn’t realize it at first because she had outrun the concept of movement itself.

She was still moving.

All she had to do was…

Stop.

Kara’s stomach did a backflip and she vomited into the vacuum, turning in space so she didn’t have to watch orbs of her own puke falling into the atmosphere.

She dove, straight down into the sky, chased by everlasting sunrise.

It only took a glance, and Kara saw a red streak headed north for Oregon, away from National City. She was watching herself fly away.

It worked.

It worked!

She slowed. She stopped. She listened. She found it.

Lena had left the Foundation and was walking downtown, probably to her new favorite coffee spot, just another woman in the crowd. Since she’s turned over control of the company to Sam and focused her working days on her philanthropy, she’d become softer, more casual, more, as she put it, west coast. She was just strolling down the street in a hoodie and scrolling her phone on her way to her inevitable end.

Kara steeled herself.

I’m Supergirl. I can do anything.

She swept low over the downtown crowd and landed in front of Lena.

She was so beautiful, so soft. So confused. She stared at Kara.

“I thought you were going to Oregon and we were getting dinner later?”

“Come with me now. Please. Please, Lee. I’m begging you.”

There was a brief, heavy pause. Kara swallowed hard. Lena looked at her for the barest moment, then allowed herself to be scooped up into Kara’s arms and flown gently, so very carefully, to the Tower.

When she landed, Kara gingerly set Lena on her feet and took a short step back. Alex came running into the room.

“Kara?”

“What?” said a voice in her ear. Her own voice, on her comms, entangled somehow because she was in both places at once.

Alex drew her weapon and aimed it at Kara’s head, gently taking Lena’s arm and pulling her back, then poked her ear.

“Kara you’ve got a doppleganger here. I’m not sure if she’s extra-dimensional or a shapeshifter.”

Kara sighed when she felt the rush behind her, the gust of air and the heavy landing of boot heels on the balcony.

“Don’t move,” Kara told Kara.

“I won’t,” she told herself.

“Who are you and what are you do-“

Kara turned and looked at herself. She’d experienced this too many times before. Shapeshifters, a clone, an evil version of herself from a broken timeline.

This was different in some inexplicable way, and the pain came.

They both screamed, not so loud this time, and suddenly Kara was actually in two places at once, looking at herself looking at herself in an infinite loop and then…

One.

Kara was staring at Lena and Alex, standing where her past self had been standing a few moments earlier. She shook her head and… Lena.

Lena!

Kara rushed to her, gathering her up in a fierce hug, nuzzling her nose into her hair to take in her scent.

“You’re alive!” Kara exulted.

“You’re covered in mud,” Lena protested, pushing her back.

Kara let her.

Lena looked at Kara, then at Alex.

“Wait,” she said, soft eyes searching. “How did I get here, exactly?”

“How did you get here?” said Alex. “I don’t remember you coming in. I thought I was calling Kara back. I had to tell her something. It was…” her brows furrowed.

Kara swallowed, hard.

Wait. Why had she come back? She’s dealt with the landslide but she… just went hypersonic to get here? Why?

It didn’t matter. She was gripped by conviction. She just knew, somehow, that she had to do this.

“Lena, I’m sorry about the mud. Listen, since you’re here, I wanted to ask you… want to hang out tonight? At my place?”

“S-sure,” Lena said, blinking.

“What’s wrong?” said Alex.

“I don’t know,” said Lena. “I felt this odd sensation for a moment and then it was… almost like deja vu, but then…” she trailed off. “I need to get back to my office.”

“I’ll change and walk you back,” said Kara.

“Right. I’ll wait in the rec room.”

Lena turned and walked slowly out of the room, muttering to herself.

Alex stared at her.

“What was that about?”

“I’m telling her tonight.”

“Telling her what?”

“That I’m in love with her.”

Alex looked at her flatly.

“Well,” she said, “it’s about fucking time.”

[bohemianblasphemy]

Comfortable?

Billy Butcher x fem!reader

A massive thank you to @enchantedflameandflower for the inspo <3

Contains: one bed trope, butcher and reader being dumb and liking each other, reader wearing Butchers Hawaiian shirt to bed,unprotected sex, poorly written smut!!!

The latest mission had been a major bust.

Infiltrating Vought Tower was either going to end in success or failure, unfortunately the latter being the result.

An alarm had been tripped, all thanks to Hughie losing his footing trying to be quiet. The Boys barely got away as Homelander was hot on their trail, but ultimately losing them as the group split up in hiding.

Butcher and yourself managed to disappear, taking the Cadillac and running off to the rural outskirts of town.

The car ride was silent- trying to find somewhere to lay low for God knows how long.

“You alright?” Butcher asked lowly, breaking the silence gazing at you as you came down from your adrenaline rush. You gave him a quick nod before peering out of the car window- keeping a lookout for any danger that could approach us.

He eyeballed you, seeing the anxiety in your fidgety behaviour as he reached out to tentatively pat your shoulder. “Don’t have to be on alert, we’re okay yeah?” He reassured you, giving it a slight squeeze.

His touch- however innocent it was- made your skin prick up in goosebumps.

…..

“Sweetie we all see it, it’s not a bad thing! You both like each other… you should do something about it.” Annie nudged you with her elbow as you shared a bottle of liquor together.

“I’ve seen the way Butcher looks at you, he doesn’t look at anyone else like that.”

You just scoffed, taking another swig of the burning liquid. “Fuck no, Annie- I don’t like him like that, absolutely not, nuh uh.”

It was as if Annie was talking to a brick wall, but she’s not one to back down easily as she rolled her eyes.

“Don’t say I didn’t tell you so… you both will see it eventually.”

……

As you looked back at him- he gave a half hearted smile, before clearing his throat and turning his attention back to the road, his hand on your shoulder moving back to the steering wheel.

“What’re we gonna do now?” You broke the silence once again.

“Next motel we come across, we’ll set up in there. I have a feelin’ we will be there for a few days.”

A few days.

Another nod of acknowledgment from you and the car fell silent again, the heavy sense of unknown tension hovering over you both.

The evening sky started to show, the horizon sporting its warm glow as the sun began to set over the picturesque landscape as the Cadillac pulled into the motel car park.

The building was outdated - broken bricks that had been painted over with chipped white paint and graffiti, broken glass and lost items on the concrete.

“This is-“ you tried to say a positive thing about the place.

“A shithole. But it’s better than nothin’. Let’s see if we can get some rooms.” Butcher shut his car door and carried himself over to reception, you quickly following behind him.

The reception desk was furnished with ripped up pamphlets about activities and tours, all of which were dating back to the 80s as you read them.

“Can I help you?” The receptionist was far from enthusiastic, not bothering to look up from the computer from her online shopping session.

“Two rooms please… best ya got in the place.” He requested, giving his signature smirk.

“Only have one room available.” She replied, their gaze falling on the two of you.

Your eyes widened, the blood rushed to your cheeks.

“Nah that ain’t gonna work-“

“It’s the one room or fuck off.” The lady pulled out a cigarette, lighting it and taking a drag, exhaling the smoke into the stale air.

Butcher took a deep breath, scrunching his eyes closed in frustration before turning to you. Your flushed cheeks were obvious to him, but he didn’t bring attention to them.

“You right with sharin’, love?” He grumbled, sending a tight lipped smile your way.

“Y-yeah, fine- it’s fine.” You nodded, swaying back and forth on the balls of your feet.

The receptionist slammed the key on the counter.

“I hope you enjoy your stay.” She mumbled sarcastically, Billy taking the keys and muttering ‘Cunt’ under his breath before gesturing you to follow him to when you will both be staying.

Billy’s hand fumbled with the keys, opening the creaky wooden door to reveal the plain, cigarette smoke stained walls with paintings hung crookedly, a brown two seater couch with faded leather and another door leading to the bathroom- but it was clean and simple, all that you both needed.

That was until you both realised there was only one bed.

“I’m on the couch, you take the bed.” He pushed past you and placed his things on an arm chair in the corner.

“No, don’t worry I’ll do the couch-“

“Don’t be fuckin’ daft, I ain’t lettin’ ya sleep on the couch. I’ll be right.”

You wouldn’t back down, looking at the bed- it was big enough for the both of you, and you weren’t gonna let him have an uncomfortable nights sleep on an old couch with broken springs in it.

“We can share…” you offered quietly, which caused Billy to freeze as he unpacked. His brown eyes flickered between the bed and you. Something stirred in his gut about sharing with you that he couldn’t put his finger on.

“Alright, just don’t think any funny business yeah?” He teased, thinking it would ease the tension between them but it made the air even thicker around the room.

“Ha, wouldn’t dream of it!” You replied, mentally facepalming at how cringeworthy you sounded- the room becoming quiet and awkward.

“I’m… gonna shower, I’ll be back in a moment.” You went to your pack, trying to find a shirt that you had kept spare - to no avail.

“Shit- fucking shit.” You muttered, sighing frustratedly. “I haven’t got anything to change into…”

Billy chuckled, going through his bag and pulling out one of his spare Hawaiian shirts he always kept on him, adorned with tropical flowers.

“Have this love, just don’t be gettin’ shit all over it.” He joked.

“Are you sure? I don’t wanna-“

“Don’t be an idiot, just take the fuckin shirt.”

He was final in his words, raising his brows as he waiting for you to take the it from his hand- which you did, muttering a quick thank you and bee lining to the bathroom.

His eyes followed you, the thoughts of how you’d look in his shirt when you’d come out of that room made him anxious, excited even- thinking of your wet hair draped on your shoulders, the material of his shirt hanging off your shoulders, barely covering your-

Get it together Butcher…

He mentally chastised himself, not allowing himself to think like that about you- but it was so fucking hard not to as he started to wind down for the evening, kicking off his shoes and removing his jeans, leaving him in his boxer shorts and shirt- moving to lay on one side of the bed; trying to distract his mind with whatever was playing on the TV.

The feel of the hot soapy water on your skin was what you needed after the long day, feeling the dirt and stress melt off your body as the shower cascaded down.

You couldn’t help but this of the man in that room next to you, imagining the possibilities of what the night could bring- thinking of his strong hands gripping you-

No. No.

As you finished up in the shower and dried yourself off, you draped butchers shirt over your torso and buttoned it up, pulling up your underwear and turning to check yourself out in the mirror.

It was soft, the length of it falling just below your ass- it smelt distinctly like him and it drove you insane.

Your hand reached the handle, the door squeaking open to see Billy laying on the bed as his head swung to the sound of the door hinges.

“Fuckin’ hell…” he muttered, his eyes running over your form, drinking in how you looked in his shirt.

god it was gonna be hard for him to keep his hands off you.

You looked at him from across the way, feeling that same tension from before starting to thicken the air again.

“Thank you again…” you muttered, making your way to the bed and lying down next to him.

He grumbled in response, trying not let his eyes linger over you for too long.

The two of you sat in awkward silence, your eyes glued to the tv as you both tried to squash down the ringing desire that overrode your thoughts.

His eyes however kept glancing at you, completely mesmerised by how you looked in his clothes.

“You comfortable?” He remarked quietly, a different contrast to what you were used to with him. You nodded, smiling at him as you turned to acknowledge him as he returned a soft smile.

You couldn’t take it, the weird tension was too much to have it continue like this.

You moved your leg to touch his just that little bit- to feel his warmth, to let him know that you felt how he did. His body tensed up, exhaling a breath that he didn’t know he was holding.

Billy relaxed as he felt the warmth of your thigh, his large palm hesitantly hovering over your skin before placing it gently on you- his calloused hand a stark contrast to your soft skin. His touch caused your skin to prickle, goosebumps raising up as he started to slowly move it along your thigh, a shaky breath escaping his lips as he glanced at you.

“Y/N…” he breathed out, causing you to swivel your head up to see his eyes at the sound of your name.

“Yeah?”

The distance between you both was agonising, so close yet so far; your hunger for each other was too strong as the string of restraint began to break.

His eyes averted to your plush lips, watching you mirror his actions.

“Fuck…” he whispered, pressing his forehead against yours.

“Fuck indeed…” you replied, your lips just ghosting over his- making him breathe out in a fluster.

“We shouldn’t be doing this-“ you whispered back, feeling his hot breath on your face.

“But if we don’t I’m going to go crazy…” Billy cut you off, bringing his hand from your thigh to your face.

A few moments passed of just staring at each other with unbearable lust, before that string of restraint snapped- Billy muttering “fuck it” under his breath before pressing his lips on yours, pulling you toward him so he could hold you in his lap.

Pulling you up so you could straddle his hips, the kiss never broke- your tongues and teeth clashing in a fiery embrace.

Soft moans filling the room as his hands roamed your thighs, moving them up to grip and spanking your ass, the sound echoing off the walls.

“Fuck Billy…” you moaned into his mouth from his hands impact, causing him to chuckle.

“Oh you liked that didn’t ya?” He bit your bottom lip playfully before doing it again, coaxing the same reaction from you.

Your hands pulled at his hair as you slowly grinned against his hardened clothed cock, earning a groan from him.

“Bloody hell sweetheart, if I don’t fuck ya now I’m gonna explode…” he chuckled lowly, pressing his lips against your neck- sucking down on yours sensitive skin.

“God please- please fuck me…” you whined desperately, going to remove his shirt off of your body.

“Nuh uh- leave that on.” He protested, pushing you on your back, splayed out on the mattress beneath him as he moved to sit on his knees above you.

He looked at you below him- your kiss bitten lips and hair splayed on the mattress beneath you.

“You are a sight for sore eyes love…” he smirked, hooking his fingers to pull down your underwear- flinging them to the floor as he took in the sight of your glistening core. Billy licked his lips in anticipation, dragging his fingers along your cunt.

“Billy… please I need to feel you.” you whispered breathlessly, your hips rocking against his digits. “So desperate huh?” He grinned, pulling his fingers away from you and sucking your wetness off of them.

“So sweet… and all mine.” He growled, pulling his boxers down to reveal his hard cock, spitting in his palm and pumping his hand along his length, grunting at the pleasure.

Your mouth fell open at the sight and his possessive words, watching as he spread your thighs further apart, shuffling in closer to drag his length along your sopping cunt, enlisting a moan from your lips.

“Can’t wait to fuck this sweet pussy…” he leaned down to whisper in your ear, hearing your whiney moans as he teases your entrance before filling you up deliciously, pushing himself inside you with a groan.

“Oh fuck Billy!” You moaned, gripping onto his shoulders as you adjusted to the sensation. Billy slowly moves his hips against yours, listening as he heard your soft gasps, little whimpers as he picked up the pace of his thrusts.

“God you feel fuckin’ incredible…” he praised, watching your face contort in pleasured expressions.

One of your hands grappled onto his back, digging your nails into the blades of his shoulders- your other hand reaching down to rub your swollen clit, making the sensation all the more satisfying as he continued his unfaltering pace, the slapping of skin and the sinful moans bounced off the walls. “D-don’t stop- oh my god…”

He groaned at how good you felt, looked and sounded - his senses in overdrive as he came close to his peak, his cock twitching inside you, feeling your silky walls pulsating around him.

“G-gonna cum- fuck…”

After a few final thrusts, his head fell forward and his face screwed up as he came deep inside your cunt, a deep growl erupting deep from his chest.

Your orgasm washed over you, crying out his name and digging your nails further into his skin, your thighs quivering as you came down from your high.

Billy looked down at your flustered, perfectly flustered features- leaning down to kiss your pouted lips.

“You have-“ he took a breath, chuckling softly. “No idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that… with ya.”

You looked up at him, letting out a quiet giggle. “Me too, shit I’ve been missing out on that?” You smiled at him, making his heart flutter.

“That is just the tip of the iceberg love, and we have all night to make up for it…” he teased, placing another kiss to your lips- knowing that it was going to be an eventful evening.

[orchidyoonkook]

To What We Were Before, And All The Things After | JJK | Ch. 8

Title: Photo Shoots and Blasphemous Discoveries

Pairing: Prince!College Student!JK x Fine Arts Major!(F)!Reader

Series Rating//Genre: (M) | College AU, Mild Royalty AU, Smut, Angst, Fluff, S2F2L, Indiffernce to lovers, sloooowwww ass burn

Summary: You're just there to help JK with his final project, so why are you being doused in water, facepaint and smoke? Art. Art is why.

Warnings: T, language, fluff, angst, honestly this one's kinda wholesome and fun, some photogrpahy jargin in there, but nothing a quick google search can't fix if you really need to <3, it's mostly surface level jargin. Also the smoke machine works cuz JK has great ventilation due to the massive windows being open, so don't worry bout that XD, some light and fun name calling, some world building. Ask if you need clarification on anything. That's all I think!

Word Count: 11,684

Release Date: September 1, 2024. 4:30PM

A/N 1: Surprise! Happy JK Day.

Series: Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six | Chapter Seven

PJK [7:36pm]: Saturday afternoon. my place. 11am.  PJK [7:36pm]: bring an extra set of clothes, something warm. Sweats if you have them. PJK [7:37pm]: also, Im gunna need your shirt size

The first three weeks of November have flown by and dragged on at the same time.

The weather’s getting colder. You need a thick jacket if you want to be anywhere outside, and all leaves have fallen from the trees, leaving pines the only ones left with their winter coats on. Hot chocolate from greenhouse cafe has become part of your life’s blood so you don’t freeze, and gloves with pocket warmers inside them are once again a part of your everyday. 

But November skies have returned. And you frequently set up camp on the drying grass beside the greenhouse, dressing your canvas with oil paint to their likeness as it’s the only paint that doesn’t dry the second it’s out of the tube in the cold, static air.

Jungkook told you earlier in the week the shoot would most likely be this weekend, and that he just had a few final strings to pull together before being able to confirm. So with that in mind, you intentionally tried to finish all your work before this weekend, knowing the shoot will take a while to complete.

He mentioned it may leak over into Sunday depending on how much you get done on the first day, which is fine with you considering you usually spend Sunday evenings at his place anyway. You’d consider it an extended edition of your regularly scheduled broadcast.

And speaking of regularly scheduled, you haven’t missed a single movie night since Nel left. Granted, it’s only been three weeks, but even missing the two you did because of Nel had made an impact. 

You’d gotten so used to them, having that time to destress and unwind before the week starts. A nice little routine that helps reset you both mentally and physically.

Suddenly not having that was…a weird feeling you try not to remember. 

And you are more than happy to never miss another one ever again.

You aren’t sure what Jungkook tells Adaline he’s doing during movie night, but she’s never interrupted you, not even once. And it’s something you are increasingly grateful for, because she is one of the things you destress from as your unspoken rivalry always amps up the closer to exam season you get.

It’s Thursday evening, and you’re in your room finishing up a Microeconomics 3 assignment while piano music plays on a speaker in the corner. You use it to help you focus, and it’s working its magic as you’re finishing your work in record time. 

Music has always helped you work better, and you credit it largely with how you’ve been able to keep up with everything in your schooling.

Yuri’s in her room, doing homework as well you assume. Or maybe texting Tai—the dreamy, big dicked Ilcalos island Count—you swear she’s only put her phone down for sleep and showering, as she’s constantly checking to see if he’s messaged her. And you hope it turns out well for them, Yuri deserves someone who treats her well. Especially after the whole Jungkook debacle—which you’re not allowed to bring up—and then the poor rebound you aren’t allowed to talk about either. You’re just happy she’s finally found someone worth her time.

Picking up your phone, you shoot Jungkook a text back.

You [7:40pm]: okay! saturday at 11 sounds good. I’ll bring sweats and warm socks

You message him your shirt size too, curious as to what he’ll use it for, but you’re sure you’ll find out in due time. You always do.

Subject to many of his homework assignments, you’ve been posed and lit and adjusted every which way. 

Jungkook is incredibly professional when you’re with him as a model. Light touches to correct posing, always with a ‘may I’ before he does, and he fills the room with kind words, good vibes, and fun music so you never feel awkward. 

At first you were really iffy on the whole idea when he first asked in September, because it would be the prince of your nation photographing little ol’ you. You weren’t anything special—yet—and you’re still never one for being in the spotlight, or for being on camera. At all. But if it was just for homework, and you were helping out a friend…you figured why not? 

It helped that all of your worries immediately faded when you saw the results of that first shoot.

An email from a very non-princely email address found its way into your inbox. The subject was the date of the shoot, and the only message inside being:

 thanks. Hope you like them. 

Let’s do it again sometime.

-J

When you opened the attachments you made a quick dive to catch the phone that fell from your hands in shock. 

You looked…beautiful. Like you never had in pictures before. Not in school, or at graduation, not even in the ones you took of yourself. 

You didn’t know you were capable of looking like that. 

Like how he saw you. Captured you. 

And you’ll never admit you’ve held your chin a little higher with every shoot since.

They make you feel powerful, attractive. More confident, and sure of yourself, as if you were always meant to be in front of a camera. Like you’d been in front of one since before you could walk.

They do that for you.

He…does that for you—with his pictures, of course.

Jungkook is very talented. Very skilled with his camera, and you find yourself looking forward to the concepts he comes up with every time. Trusting him and whatever his vision is wholeheartedly. 

Though a small, immature piece of you is also pleased he still wants you to model, and not Adaline. That he finds you easier to work with over her.

Your competitive streak never fails to come out, even with the smallest, secretive things.

Take that Adaline.

You gladly help him out with his homework, and he does the same for you. 

If you ever need a male reference or a profile study. Anatomy practice, features practice, likeness practice. Anything and almost everything, all you have to do is ask, and he sits still or places whatever you need in front of you while you sketch.

Hands, however, have always been a personal favourite of yours.

They’re one of those things that can be drawn a hundred different ways and never look the same. Always a new position you can put them in. Consistently able to shake things up. And one set is never like the others—like eyes. There’s little differences in all of them and that’s where their magic lies.

You do these studies at the greenhouse, it has the best light to shadow ratio. When you ask him for one, he’ll switch to working with one hand, while the other does whatever you tell it. Normally either placed on your table or if there isn’t enough room, which nine times out of ten there isn’t because of all your supplies, you stick your foot on the lower metal frame of his table and he rests his arm, wrist or palm on your up bent knee. 

Due to this, you’ve unintentionally come to find out that his hands are very strong, very calloused, and very, very warm…

Also! Aside from hand studies, you love loose figure studies because they’re great warm up sketches. And what Jungkook doesn't know is that you have dozens of warm up sketches of him. Doesn’t know you sneak pictures here and there when you can, hiding them in a hidden album on your phone entitled ‘hmwk screenshots.’ And he definitely doesn’t know that when he’s sitting at the cafe, nose deep in assignments, you doodle his features or his outfit in real time.

A nose here, a jacket there. A muscular forearm covered in tattoos also tends to find its way onto your page every so often.

He’s got a good physique. And the ridges make for excellent anatomy practice. So does the intricate line work of tattoos, and fabric rippling. Especially in drastic lighting. Consistency is key in maintaining and improving your work and it’s not like any of these sketches will ever see the light of day anyways. 

They’re just, well…practice. 

A sigh escapes you, and you refocus on finishing your microecon work. You still have two more assignments to get done before Saturday at eleven.

“And why are you working with some random girl when I’m available, again?” Adaline asks. She’s currently sitting on Jungkook's couch in your spot. He’s setting up tomorrow's materials against the big white wall by the floor length windows that showcase his balcony.

It’s why he chose to live here instead of in the dorms or on campus. His place isn’t enormous, like most people would think, it has enough room for everything a regular student needs: bedroom, kitchen, workspace, living room, bathroom, even a guest room. But the one thing he keeps different is the big white wall where a dining room would normally be. 

Jungkook’s place has high ceilings, 10 feet tall, which is higher than the average but not excessive. And the wall that connects his kitchen to the balcony is a perfect mock studio. He can even keep all his equipment there; lights, gels, backgrounds, tubs full of props, camera cases, lenses, and more all stored in neat shelving against another wall. 

“Because students volunteered for extra credit, and she’s who was assigned to me,” a small lie, one he was sure that Adaline wouldn’t dig into too deeply. 

“Why didn’t you tell me I could volunteer?”

“Because you didn’t need the extra credit?”

She pouts, and goes back to her phone.

Adaline also doesn’t know it’s you he’s photographing and that is one hundred percent intentionally planned by him. 

He could sense something between you two after you made that one comment after fall break. He notices now how you stiffen slightly every time he mentions Adaline, and the one time he mentioned you in passing to test the waters, Adaline changed the conversion topic almost immediately. A look of annoyance, or maybe even insecurity in her eyes.

So he’s been lucky that Adaline has never wanted to see any of his schoolwork prior to or after the singular shoot he did with her. 

Lucky she hasn’t seen your face fill up his screen constantly. 

And extremely lucky that she doesn’t know about the hidden folder buried deep in his desktop labeled ‘eqpmt rcpts’ filled with dozens of candid shots of you.

To be fair, you don’t know about them either. They’re random, shots taken every now and then where he thought you looked happy, focused, or just existing. True candids of the most candid person he knew.

It started that day with his first assignment from Professor Hirmer. He’d taken those quick pictures of you painting, and then simply never stopped. 

He has pictures of you in the courtyard, walking and talking to Yuri, you smiling. He has some he took on his phone when you’re over for movie night, invested in the film or talking to him. And a bunch of you painting at the greenhouse. It’s hard to take secret candids when he’s right beside you, but he manages seeing as you haven't caught him yet.

He even has a few of you and Nel, love clearly written on your face in every single one of them.

Whenever he spots you before you spot him, and he has his camera on him, he takes a couple. 

They’ve amassed into a healthy sum, but he thinks of it as a harmless habit as no one will ever know. And it’s not like he’s following you around to take them or using them for anything nefarious. 

He just likes taking your picture. Capturing your spirit, your candor. 

Your realness. 

You are wholly yourself, always, no holding back, all of the time. 

And to him, it feels like coming up for a breath of fresh air.

“Hey!” you say as you let yourself into Jungkook’s apartment. You’d knocked but no one answered and it was currently 10:56am on Saturday, so you knew he was here. Plus, his door was unlocked.

“Jungkook?” you call. 

No answer.

You take your shoes off after closing the door and locking it. He should really keep his door locked. 

Very quickly become best friends with the couch, you toss your backpack of warm clothes on the floor while you wait for him to make an appearance. 

There’s shoot equipment everywhere; lights in the corner, some with soft boxes on them, gels laid out on the coffee table, and what you’ve come to learn is a lens case sits on the couch beside you in Jungkook's usual spot. 

Jungkook has also somehow managed to find some small trees in blue ceramic pots and what you’re pretty sure is a smoke machine. 

But the most peculiar thing is what looks to be a kiddie pool up against the wall with a folded tarp at its base. 

Well that's…interesting…

You hear a door open somewhere in the apartment and running water. 

“Jungkook? That you?”

“Hey! Yep. Just give me a sec, I’m almost done.”

The water sounds cease and Jungkook makes his grand entrance as he turns the corner holding a large watering can. Your eyebrow raises.

“For the trees?” you ask.

“What?” 

You point to the watering can currently making his veins pop. 

He laughs, “Oh! No. This is for later. You’ll see,” and walks to the other side of the room by the pool. 

“Aren’t we mysterious today,” you say, following him with your eyes. He’s in ripped black jeans that accentuate the muscle definition of his thighs, and a matching baggy shirt. When his back is turned you snap a quick picture. The fabric folds on his baggy shirts are some of your favourite mindless things to cool down sketch.

“Nah, just focused. We have a lot to get through today.”  He sets down the watering can and you can see the moment the switch flips from friend to photographer. “The guest room is ready for you. There’s a clothing rack inside with each look labeled. There’s also makeup and face paint, if you could bring out the make up after you're done changing, that would be great. We’re gonna start with ‘Bright and Bold’, okay?” 

You usually use the spare room as a change room when you have to switch clothes for a shoot. But they were always from your own closet. He’d tell you the concept he was going for and you’d bring a few options to choose from.

Makeup you were used to, though. Jungkook loves abusing your artistic abilities for his shoots in the way you decorate your face or body, saying they make his works a level up from the rest of his classmates. 

They also usually make for some of the coolest pictures you have of yourself.

This is the first time he’s ever bought clothing, though.

You shouldn’t be as surprised as you are, this being his final assignment for an important class, and him being as serious as he is about his work and the final product. But you can't help it, you’re excited to see everything he’s chosen for the shoot. 

For you.

For the shoot.

“Yep, sounds good. Be out in a few,” you reply. He nods in acknowledgement before moving to set something up and you don’t stick around to find out, grabbing your bag and heading towards the door lined hall. 

The guest room is modest and clean. White sheets and gray comforter with, surprisingly, two throw pillows to spruce it up. The walls are white too, but you’re pretty sure that’s because Jungkook’s not allowed to paint the apartment per his landlord's wishes—a thought that still makes you laugh.

He could buy any place he wanted, but chose to rent. ‘To get the real university experience,’ he explained when you asked him the first time you went over.

Black furniture accents the room. A comfortable looking leather chair sits in the corner by a glass door that leads to the balcony. It has a small table beside it. There’s a dresser with a mirror in the other corner and of course, in the center of the room, is the bed. It’s a nice room. However, the newest edition is what’s keeping your eye.

Four shirts hang from the rack at the foot of the bed. The first is vibrant and colourful, the second a light neutral short sleeved V neck, third is strapless and skin coloured, and the last is made from thin black fabric you assume will be skin tight by the looks of it. 

As promised, they’re all labeled with a sticker. 

You throw your bag on the bed and grab the colourful one first. Its sticker says ‘bright and bold,’ and you put it on after removing the shirt you came in, then zip it up. The material feels heavy, durable and expensive. You check the tag on the inside seam and see it’s from Ilkaya, one of the biggest and most expensive fashion designers on this side of the realm. 

Your eyes bug out of your head, and you try not to breathe too hard for fear of ruining it. Your routine of thrifting all your clothes makes you pretty damn sure you can’t even imagine how much this cost. 

It feels good though, comfortable, not itchy. Really freaking expensive.

You look at yourself in the mirror, and you have to admit you look amazing. It fits perfectly in all the right places, compliments your skin tone, and even brings out your eyes. Begrudgingly, you admit to yourself that maybe there’s some sense in what the price tag could be. But it would still be a ridiculous sum for a jacket.

With one last look in the mirror, you grab the palettes, brushes and other tools off the dresser, and leave your designated dressing room for the day in favour of returning to the living room. 

Jungkook’s got music going from your shared playlist. Insisting on making one after your second shoot together, when he decided you both agreed to the arrangement becoming a regular thing. It’s a good mix of both of your musical tastes, even though you guys figured out quickly that you liked pretty similar stuff anyway. 

“What do you think? Does it work?” You ask as you turn the corner. 

Jungkook fiddles with this camera before looking and pausing for a moment to take you in. You hope you look okay, but the weird look he has on his face makes you backtrack a bit. 

“Is this not the one you wanted? It had the label on it. But I can go back and double che- ”

“You look amazing,” is all he says, and your worry slides off you instantly. He smiles wide, the one you’ve come to recognize as genuine. 

“Thanks. But the colour’s doing most of the work for me,” you say, smiling back shyly.

He has a white background set up, and two differently coloured gel’d lights sit on opposite one another, a third, smaller floor light faces the background. A backlight, he’d call it. 

Bright and Bold indeed, though there is the matter of-

“What do you want me to do for my make up?”

“Actually,” he sets down his camera gently on a table, “Is it okay if I do it? I want it to be a little more on the amateur side and I don’t think your years of refined talent would let you get the exact look I want.” 

That’s new. But you're here to stand and look however he wants you too, so you allow him with a nod. 

“Sure, where do you want me to sit?”

“Here’s fine,” he says as he pulls a stool that was off to one side close to one of the windows. “As long as you don’t mind holding the make up. I don’t have a table to set them down on.  Should’ve thought of that, sorry.” 

You can tell he’s mentally scolding himself for forgetting something.

“No no, it’s fine,” you say, taking your seat, “I don’t mind, really.” 

Placing the balls of your feet on the bar that holds the chair legs together, you make your lap even enough to set the palettes out, and use a hand to hold all the brushes. 

Jungkook laughs, noticing your feet as you sit, “Cute socks.”

They’re light blue with a fox face on them, and little ears stick up from the elastic around the ankle. 

“Thanks,” you laugh too, they’re your favourite pair. “I call them my fox socks. They’re lucky.”

“Let’s hope so. Wish me luck fox socks,” he calls to your toes, and you wiggle them in response.

He picks a brush and chooses a colour. “Close your eyes and let me know if I’m pressing too hard. If it isn’t obvious, I’ve never done this before.”

You close your eyes and whisper, “Will do.”

It's a uniquely intimate experience having your makeup done. Willingly letting someone get up close and personal with you, allowing them to see every potential scar, blemish and pore in the name of beauty and for the sake of creativity. 

In this case, it’s also a little questionable considering where you feel the brush putting down colour: cheeks, lids, temple, nose. However, you’re simply a pawn in a well thought out plan, so you sit and wait for him to finish.

“Annnd done,” he says, making a final swipe with the brush on your cheek. “You look great! I didn’t hurt you, right?” he asks, showing you the makeup in a palettes mirror. Your face looks like it’s been attacked by a rainbow in the best way. You smile, taking the mirror from him and looking at all the little details. 

For a first timer, Jungkook did a really good job. 

“Nope, I’m good. How do you want me?”

Jungkook leads you to the backdrop, placing you in front. 

“One second,” he says, grabbing a remote and clicking a button to lower the black out curtains on the windows, and then another that turns off the apartment lights. He also clicks on all the lights he’s set up and you’re quickly illuminated by a bright red and purple as well as the back light.

“I’m good to pose?” he asks. 

“Yep.” 

You love that he always asks first. It makes you feel safe and considered, consenting to every touch prior to its occurrence. 

Jungkook instructs the first pose to have your hands on the sides of your face, making slight adjustments so that you don’t cover any of the makeup. And for the first time, his touches leave little sparks where they land. 

You’re sure it’s just because of the lights or that the shirt is thick and makes you warm. 

Or maybe you’re just nervous and need to get the first photo jitters out of your system.

Soon enough, the camera’s pointing at you and you smile the brightest you can. He’s given you the prompt of ‘you’re so excited and happy you can’t hold it in,’ and you work with it the best you can, taking the first few with the pose he gave before being given full reign. 

It’s a decent way into the first shoot when Jungkook says, “Hmm…we’re not quite there yet, I need a bit more,” and follows up with, “How about ‘you’ve just been commissioned by the Modern Art Museum to have the leading showcase for next year’.” 

You smile the biggest you think you ever have at the thought. Because that’s the dream, that is the biggest goal you could achieve. An entire gallery of your work as the primary exhibition in the Western Shores Modern Art Museum? You couldn’t go any higher. It’s every artist's dream.

“There you go! That’s it!” The camera’s capturing quickly as you imagine what it would be like to have your own showcase at the WS-MAM. Incredible is the first word that comes to mind, your work in the biggest museum on the continent? You can’t even imagine, but you want to. 

One day, you promise yourself. You’ll do it one day.

“Okay,” Jungkook says, breaking your daydream, “Let me switch out the gels for new colours and go again. These are great so far though, you're doing amazing.” 

You hold your hand out for a high five and he smacks it. “Go team!” you say, and he laughs.

An hour and a half, a makeup fix and three lighting changes later, the first shoot finishes. You collapse on the couch and rub the muscles on your thighs. 

Jungkook plops down beside you, nose deep in the pictures he’s just taken, double checking everythings good.

“This is a fantastic start, I hope we can keep it up all day and finish before tomorrow.”

“Me too,” you say, and you mean it. Shoots with him are always fun, but inevitably tiring. “I’m gonna to grab a water, want one?” 

“Yes please,” he replies without looking up.

In the kitchen, you open the fridge to grab the two bottles and notice a box, stamped with a coffee mug that has a greenhouse inside of it, on top. The greenhouse cafe’s logo. 

“Can I ask what’s inside the cafe box?” you ask as you sit back on the couch and pass him a bottle.

“Ah, caught red handed,” he says, setting his camera on the table and taking a swig. “I may have asked Vivan earlier this week to make sure there was an overstock of tarts so I could grab them for you as a thank you for today.”

...Oh

That’s so sweet. He’s never gotten you a thank you gift before, especially not in the form of the most delicious pastry to ever exist. Maybe you should get him something for all the times he’s helped you with homework? A solstice gift maybe?

There’s heat forming in your chest and you really hope it’s not the beginning stages of heartburn. Maybe Jungkook has antacids. 

“You didn’t have to do that, I’m happy to help.”

“So you don’t want them then?” his shit eating grin making a glorious comeback because he knows what your answer’s going to be.

“No! I want them. I most definitely want them.”

He chuckles and puts his water down.

“Okay Donatello, glad you accept. Let's move on to the next set up. There’s makeup remover and cotton pads in the room, and some moisturizer too if you need it.”

The next shoot is called ‘Regality,’ and it has you in the strapless shirt. You find out it’s quite a low cut when you put it on. There’s enough to cover you, but there’s definitely a lot of your chest showing. However, under the shirt on the hanger is a scarf to cover yourself with, which you think is very considerate.

“Makeup?” you ask as you come out again, scarf covering you.

“Neutral, but strong. Kind of like how my mother does,” the background is still white, but you have a hunch that it will remain white in this picture, unlike the last one. “This one is going to be black and white, so try to emphasize your natural beauty.”

You ignore that he essentially just said you're beautiful, surely he’s just being kind and professional. Making sure his model feels good about herself. 

Right?

Right.

You put on a coat of mascara and go light on the shadow so it won't be too dramatic on film. You also use a shade of lipstick that adds just a tint to your lips and a blush that makes your eyes pop.

Jungkook has you sit on the stool from earlier and faces your body three quarters of the way towards the camera, but keeps your head turned in profile. 

“Oh! Almost forgot, one second,” Jungkook jogs to his room, coming back with a palm sized velvet box. “I had my mother send these over for this shoot. She has better taste than me, so I let her pick them out.”

Your stomach plummets to the floor when he opens the box. 

Inside are two dangling diamond earrings, and quite possibly the most beautiful things you’ve ever seen.

And now you’re terrified. 

“Jungkook, I can't wear those. They look like they’re worth more than my house, my car and my tuition combined.”

He takes one out and places it in your hand for you to put in, it’s the length of your index finger. And all you can think about is the potential houses you’re holding as you look at it. 

It’s a semi-rectangular earring, encrusted with four columns of diamonds that cascade down, each column longer than the previous. Like a sparkling waterfall you can attach to your ear.

“Don’t worry about it, mum said she never wears them anyway because they’re part of a set that the necklace was lost to years ago. Please,” his face is nothing but reassurance and small smiles, “You’re giving them a chance to live again.”

You couldn't say no to those eyes even if you wanted to.

So you reply, almost breathless and still against your better judgment, “Okay.”

Placing them in one after the other, they have a significant, understandable weight to them. You take a couple deep breaths so you don't freak out, and then you return to your previously designated pose, profile set, body facing the camera.

“Can I adjust?” Jungkook asks, after taking a step back and getting a wider view. 

You nod gently, still terrified of the earrings.

He makes sure the earring is visible and untangled first, before a finger gently comes beneath your chin, and lifts it a bit higher. 

The feeling they leave behind is all you can think about as you stare at your place on the wall, Jungkook snapping away. Not even the soft light illuminating your profile is enough to make you blink.

This shoot goes by quickly, and you’re relieved to get the earrings back safely inside their box.

“It’s like 2:45, wanna break for a late lunch?” Jungkook asks. 

“Please, I’m starved,” you say, returning from the guest room after tossing on the sweater you brought. “What's on the menu?”

“Well, we have two options,” he says, looking very faux serious, “1. We order out from wherever you want and awkwardly wait for it to arrive because the next shoot is not one we can’t prep for, then eat, then shoot.  Or 2. I make use of the ingredients I bought to make Bulgogi Kimchi Fried Rice and you get lunch and a show.”

You're shocked. 

Jungkook…cooks? Oh this you absolutely must see.

“Hmm….” you say, pretending to really mull it over in the same ‘serious’ tone, “I’m thinking I’ll have to go with option two, Chef. But I’ll lend a hand where I can, no use in standing around doing nothing.”

“Every chef needs a sous.”

With both of you on task, lunch is getting made quickly. Jungkook has all the ingredients to make ‘my buddy’s famous family recipe,’ a man who you assume is a chef back at the palace. The island countertop is currently covered in them; onion, kimchi, marinated bulgogi, gochujang, cooked rice, eggs and more. 

You’re surprised at how skilled Jungkook is in the kitchen. He’s cutting the ingredients like he’s been doing it his whole life and working the pan over the stove like the proper technique has been drilled into him since birth. 

Thirty minutes pass, and after both of you shed a tear at the cut onions and evenly split the remaining tasks, you’re sitting on the couch about to take your first bite. It smells delicious. Your mouth is watering and you can’t wait to dig in, stomach painfully empty by this point.

Finally taking that first bite, you nearly die of euphoria.

“Ouhmahgaud,” you say, mouth half full. Jungkooks on the other side of the couch, trying not to cough out his own food from laughing at your reaction. His eyes are nearly shut with how wide he’s smiling.

“Good?” he asks after swallowing his food first, like a civilized person.

You’re vigorously nodding as you swallow your own helping in hopes you’re understood.

“You’re giving me this recipe. I need it. I don’t think I will survive if this is the only time I ever get to eat it.” Your bowl is almost half gone already. Thank god there’s leftovers, you will be having more.

Plus, you want to make it for your mom when you go home, she’ll love it. 

“I’ll text it to you later, don’t worry.”

You’re very sure the look on your face conveys the gratitude you feel and the rest of the meal passes in a very comfortable and satisfied silence. 

Twenty-ish minutes later, after letting your seconds settle for a couple minutes, Jungkook gets back to business. 

“Next look is the most adventurous, it uses the facepaint. Are you okay with contacts?”

“I think so, never tried them before though. Just give me a few before we start so I don’t explode when I stand up.”

“All good,” he says, before quirking a lip and adding, “I really don’t feel like explaining why there’s kimchi and bits of you all over my walls to either of our parents, so take all the time you need.”

You laugh, firstly at the visual, then at the idea of Jungkook meeting your mother. That would be something you needed on record, paper and film.

After a minute, you get up, the guest room making your acquaintance once more. 

“This one is called Enigmatic,” Jungkook calls.

“Got it!”

You take longer than normal to change, maybe eating before putting on the skin tight shirt wasn’t a great idea. But at least it was stretchy. 

It has long sleeves, a high neck, and is a very dark midnight black. There’s a matching black scarf for this one too, and a safety pin attached to the corner.

“Okay, what's the plan for this one? I hear facepaint is involved,” you say, back for round three, scarf in hand.

The background of the set is black now, a close match to your shirt. Jungkook is by the smoke machine, currently set up on the stool and plugged into a nearby outlet. 

You hold up the scarf, questioningly.

“That’s to go over your head after the paint, but let’s see if you can do contacts first, they’re in the washroom. Need help?”

“No, I'm good.”

You don’t succeed at first, but after a couple attempts you look in the mirror and see purple eyes staring back at you. You love them.

“I look like a badass,” you say, returning. The smoke machine’s been turned on and it’s created a completely different atmosphere. At your reemergence, Jungkook shuts it off and comes close to give you a look. You freeze a little at the eye contact, his browns meeting your currently violets for a prolonged moment.

“They look better than I’d hoped, this is going to be great.” 

He reaches under the gels on the table for a piece of paper. It’s a makeup model face with the look he wants drawn on. “Are you able to do something like this?”

The diagram shows the cheeks, bottom half of the nose and down all the way to the neck as black, and the eyes and up as white, bleeding down into the black like smoke. You’re going to need eyeshadow for that part. If you did that with the face paint it would just become a gray mess.

“Yep, but it’s going to take some time to get it right.”

“That’s okay, I’ll use it to get the smoke machine properly set up.”

You use one of the palette mirrors and start with the white, covering the top of your face and making a good base layer for the eyeshadow. Then fill the bottom of your face and neck with the black. Carefully, so as to not make gray, you use a large brush to cover both sides with their respective eyeshadow shades, before blending them together like the reference. Your skin starts to feel like it’s on fire by the time you're satisfied and you check your phone for the time when you finally finish. 

4:37pm. 

Not bad. You put the scarf over your head and cover your ears with it, using the safety pin to hold it in place. 

“Done.”

Jungkook takes one look at you and lights up. 

“Have I ever mentioned how talented you are, and that you make my schoolwork so much more fun? Because I feel like I should again even if I already have.” Your cheeks heat, glad he’s excited you’re able to help. “How did you manage to make it look even better?”

“I do vaguely remember mentioning something about a deal with a semi-suspicious genie,” you joke. And both of you break out in giggle fits after a second, recalling the conversation from forever ago. 

Running through the same steps of lighting, posing, and adjustments, Jungkook then flips on the smoke machine and lets it fill the room heavily before starting to take pictures. 

You’re sitting on a small box this time, so that you’re slightly lower than the camera. Jungkook tells you to keep your hands at your sides and look up, just above the rim of the camera lens. It creates a very interesting look, and you're excited to see the results. 

He has you do a couple more poses before allowing you to do your own thing once more, trying to think of what would look mysterious and enigmatic.

You try to let the music inspire you. This is a look you’ve never done before, so you’re finding it a bit difficult to get into it despite Jungkook's helpful prompts and suggestions. But you flow a bit better with it as time goes on and you become more comfortable.

An idea pops up out of nowhere and you have him do a close up from the middle of your chin to the middle of your forehead. You stare straight into the lens to really showcase the purple contacts and makeup.

“This’s the one for sure,” he says, taking a few more. “Great idea, why didn’t I think of a close up in the first place?” You know he's talking to himself at this point. 

It’s close to 6:15pm when Jungkook decides he has enough pictures for this look. You don’t mind the longer shoot seeing as you set aside the day for this, and you can’t wait to see how these ones turn out in particular.  

You’re halfway through getting the face paint off, a mountain of gray stained cotton pads beside you, when Jungkook turns the music down.

“Let’s do a light, early dinner and then shoot the last one?” he asks. “I kept this one at the end because it’s going to create the most mess and it’ll be nice to have dinner out of the way for when I have to clean up.”

“More mess than this?” you point to the cotton pad mountain.

“Much more.”

“Light, early dinner it is,” you confirm, not wanting to have to wait till late to eat. “But can we order out so I have time to get the rest of this off?”

“Sure, what’ll it be?”

Clean faced, moisturized and ramyeon filled, you and Jungkook are preparing for the last shoot. Or well, lightly arguing.

“Water?”

“Mhm.”

“On me?”

“Yep.”

“From that thing,” you point to the contraption he calls a c-stand that will be holding the very full, very large watering can over your head for an extended amount of time, “And into there?” you point again to the kitty pool on top of the tarp that’s underneath the watering can c-stand. 

“That is the plan,” he looks amused at your slight distress.

“Are you nuts? What if it falls on me? How do I know it won’t unhinge and I’ll have a nicely cracked open skull to explain to my mother on Solstice break?”

“It won’t fall and you know it won't because you trust me and trust I wouldn’t put you in unnecessary danger. But if it does, tell your mom I say hi and sorry.”

You scoff at him, unbelievable. “So you admit there’s a bit of danger!”

Jungkook sighs, and looks to the ceiling. “Yes, YN. There is a touch of danger. But that’s only if, somehow, the c-stand I have triple safety checked, duct taped twice, and quadruple secured with four fifteen pound sandbags, decides that you deserve a watering can to the head.”

You side eye his tone. This wasn’t an unrealistic worry. But you do trust him. And trust he would never intentionally put you in any danger.

The trees are set up near the backdrop that looks like a row of brick houses. The shot is supposed to be ‘The Calm after Before the Storm,’ where you look relieved and happy in an ‘outside’ setting while ‘rain’ falls over you, also in black and white.

“Fine, but if I hear one peep from that thing,” c-stand staring down the tip of your finger once more, “I’m tuck and rolling and taking you out while I do it.”

“Very fair!” he says relieved, and goes to set up the stand with the watering can. 

You’d changed into the neutral V neck after dinner, and he’s asked for no makeup. So all you have to do now is stand and pose while trying not to die from foreign objects falling from the sky while you get wet.

Easy, right?

Wrong.

It is incredibly difficult, and you’re glad he made this one last because you’re at best; slightly miserable. Only the promise of a hot shower, hot chocolate with whip cream and marshmallows and your pick of whatever you watch afterward is keeping you going.

You started this one just shy of 8pm after waiting 45 minutes for the food. And it’s nearing 9:30 now. Jungkook has had to refill the watering can four times, dump the kiddie pool twice,  and you swear if you don’t finish within the next twenty minutes, you’re going to collapse from shivering.

To be fair, he does fill the watering can with warm water, but it only stays warm for so long before freezing water is pouring on you for the millionth time tonight. 

“I have one last idea, and by the way, I’m never doing this concept again so don’t worry about that, but also… don’t shut down the idea immediately okay?” Jungkook says. 

The watering can is almost empty again and you’re relieved that your time is almost up. That in itself should make for a good picture. He snaps it.

But his tone makes you a little wary, “Okay… what is it?”

“Pretend I’m Nel and you’re seeing me for the first time in six months, like you do at the end of April.”

Well, you didn’t have that down on your photo shoot prompt bingo card. 

Are you okay with the idea? You aren’t sure, but aren’t not sure either.

“I mean, I’ll try. Maybe you could give vocal cues to try and help? But don’t make it weird.”

“I won’t, promise,” Jungkook pauses for a second before adding, “Does he call you baby?”

You nod, and you distantly hear and ‘okay’ as you slowly allow yourself to get into that headspace.

You start, and the camera starts going.

You’re in the airport, waiting for Nel, ‘smoosh’ paper in hand. The gate opens, and through all the other passengers you see him, see that he’s in one piece, see that he’s safe. 

Your face illuminates with relief at that so much so that you don’t even notice the water that starts running down your face. 

You hear a ‘hi baby’ and in your head, it’s coming from Nel’s mouth as he nears you. You smile impossibly wider at the thought of seeing him, feeling him. Having him here with you. 

You look happy to see me, ‘Nel’ says.

“I am,” you reply. 

There’s repetitive clicking in the distance, but you ignore it. It’s probably just a flight attendant's heels on the floor.

“I missed you.”

There’s a long moment of silence before Nel speaks again.

I missed you too, baby.

You’re shivering hard now, lost in thought, unaware of reality. 

YN, Nel calls.

“Yes, love?”

“YN.”

“Babe, what is it?”

“YN, hey,” you're being shaken gently.

“Hmm? What?” you slowly arrive back to the present. Strong hands grip your shoulders. They feel nice. Solid. Deliciously warm. 

A very concerned looking Jungkook comes into focus, camera dangling around his neck and reaching for you.

Oh.

He’s the one holding your shoulders, trying to get you to come back to reality.

“There she is, welcome back,” he lets go and grabs a blanket from somewhere and wraps it around you. “We got the shot, go take a shower and warm up okay?”

“Okay,” you say, still a little dazed, but present enough to function.

You step out of the pool, holding on to the hand Jungkook offers to balance—Warm. Solid. Strong—and head straight for the bathroom, making a pit stop in the guest room to grab your bag with fresh clothes. 

The hot water cements your place back in reality, letting it warm you up and cleanse you of the day. 

You have no idea what just happened with that whole Nel thing, but it was a new feeling and a new headspace and you really aren’t in the mood to analyze or acknowledge, so it’s shoved onto a top shelf in the back of your mind for a later date.  

Once you're able to return to the directory of your mind, you don’t know how long you’ve been in the shower. But you know you’re clean, no longer cold, and in the mood for hot chocolate, so you step out and dry yourself with the towels Jungkook laid out for you on the toilet seat.

They’re soft. So soft in fact you consider only for a second shoving one in your now less full bag to take home with you. However, you do rather enjoy your friendship with the prince, so you think better of it upon second thought. 

Dressing in your sweats, you exit, tossing the towels in the hamper and your bag of the clothes you arrived in back into the spare room.

“Better?” Jungkook asks as you sit down in your spot on the couch for the last time tonight, wrapping up in the blanket he left for you. He’s in the kitchen but heard you coming.

“Much, thanks,” you sniff, “Is that hot chocolate I smell?”

Jungkook returns from the kitchen, two mugs in hand. “With extra whip cream and marshmallows, as ordered.”

You carefully take it from him, giving your thanks and happily slurping away the second it’s in your grasp. 

“Alright Caravaggio, what are we watching?” he asks, sitting down on his side, sipping away on his own. 

Sometime between you leaving for the shower and coming back out Jungkook changed into his own comfy attire, and tidied up the studio space as the pool and tarp are nowhere to be seen.

“I’ve thought really hard about this, all of however long I was in the shower,” Jungkook mutters something about 35 minutes; you ignore him, “And have settled on ‘A Miser Brothers Solstice’.”

He whines just a little when he says, “But it’s November.”

“So?”

“So, Solstice isn’t until the third week of December,” he’s saying this like his point is the most obvious thing in the world. 

It’s not.

“Your point?”

“That it’s November, and you want to watch a Solstice movie.”

You’re mockingly outraged.

“Who made you town grinch? I didn’t realize we had a holiday hater in our midst.” 

You loved the holidays, all the big ones, and the small ones, but Solstice was special. 

“I’m not a grinch, I’m just not there yet, mentally.”

“Then get ready to dive in head first, because you said I could pick the movie for risking my life for you and I pick ‘A Miser Brothers Solstice’.”

Jungkook doesn’t argue further, but he does roll his eyes as he puts on your movie with a small smile hidden behind his drink.

It’s sometime during the first act, you’re lying back against your corner of the couch, feet up and under the blanket when you ask, “What are your solstice break plans?” 

Jungkook takes a moment to part from the TV, very invested for someone who was so against it half an hour ago. “I have a lot of ‘princely duties’ to do for Solstice, like standing and looking thoughtful while my dad gives his annual Solstice speech,” you snort. “Then there’s the palace dinner, the parade through the capital, and the live televised event,” he says in a tv announcer's voice, “Where my family and I light the Solstice Star. And then there’s the new year and that in itself has another long list of things I have to do. Besides things like that though? Not much, and then it’s back here.”

Right.

You often forget who he is. 

That behind those kind eyes, and small smiles, behind the greenhouse study dates, and movie nights, and photoshoots, Jungkook has an enormous responsibility constantly looming over his head, counting down the days until he finishes his schooling. One that’s just waiting to drop onto his shoulders forever. 

You often forget that Jungkook is the Prince, first in line to the biggest throne in the realm. That you spend your time with not only Jeon Jungkook, friend and photography student, but also, His Royal Highness, Prince Jeon Jungkook, Heir Apparent and Future King of The Western Shores.

He just makes it so damn easy to forget.

You only asked because you thought maybe he had plans with friends or family, completely forgetting about all of the things the royal family does during the holiday season to celebrate with the nation, their people, and now you feel like an ass for even bringing it up.

But there’s something in his answer, or lack thereof, that snags your attention. 

“What about celebrating with your family and friends in private?”

“No time,” Jungkook’s stare goes distant as he brings his knees up and puts his arms around them, resting his chin. “Friends are always busy with palace preparations and dad’s not really the sentimental type. We celebrated when I was younger; big family breakfast, presents, tree decorating, whole thing. But after I turned about 13 or so, it started dwindling pretty quickly. Now it’s just me and my mom exchanging a gift with each other at midnight under the palace tree.” 

You don’t think you’ve ever heard something so heartbreaking yet beautiful in your life. 

“Your mum sounds wonderful, I’m really happy you two get that time together.” 

He looks at you, and you can tell by the look in his eyes he loves that time with her more than anything else. 

Solstice is supposed to be the time you spend with your family, blood or chosen. The time where you all gather to cook and bake, and exchange thoughtful gifts with the ones you love. The time where you truly cherish one another and count yourself lucky for all that you have. 

Solstice is your favourite time of the year.

To not spend it like that just seems…wrong. Horribly, painfully, awfully wrong.

“What about you?” he asks.

You don’t want to make him feel bad, so you tone down your answer, taking away the meat and giving the bones.

“My mum and I cut down our own tree and decorate it with the ornaments we’ve collected over the years,” you have them from every place you’ve ever visited, and your mum kept all the ones you ever made as a kid. You even get a new one every solstice to take a picture for and label with the year.  

“Then we bake solstice cookies until our hands cramp and survive off only them until solstice dinner; a turkey, honey glazed carrots, mashed potatoes with gravy, essentially if it waters your mouth, it’s there,” he chuckles at that. “We do gifts for each other too, opening them on solstice morning before making hot drinks and reading in the breakfast nook until the sun sets or till we get hungry, whichever comes first.”

Jungkook's eyes glow, radiating warmth, a lazy smile on his face as he listens to you. 

“That sounds really nice, YN.”

“It is,” you reply, looking him in those radiant eyes as you do. He looks… happy. Happy for you, that you get to have something like this that’s so special. It breaks your heart a little…maybe you can help.

“You wanna make some solstice cookies with me before break?”

His look of happy shifts to one of slight panic.

“What?” you question, and comically ask, “Have you never made solstice cookies before?”

He hesitates before answering a very quiet, “Uh…N-no.”

Your shock must be incredibly evident in the way he almost flinches at your reaction.

So you try your best to keep your voice level when you ask, “What do you mean, no?”

“I mean no. I’ve never made solstice cookies.”

That’s it. You can’t hold back any more, you’ve never heard anything so blasphemous in all your life.

“You’ve never what?  How is that even possible?”

He shrinks into himself a little more.

“The palace pastry chef always makes them because that’s kind of his job,” you stare at him in disbelief. “Is this really that big a deal?”

You swear there’s cog’s and smoke flying out of your ears. Solstice cookies are a religion in your household. You know dozens of recipes by heart, always finding a new one each year to try and up your game. You cannot imagine a solstice without making them. Wait no, actually you can, but it would be because you’re dead.

You held back in your answer earlier, for his sake, but you and your mom’s hands cramp up because you make enough cookies to give a box to everyone in the neighborhood. It’s one of your favourite traditions, and your neighbours even look forward to it every year, going so far as sending you both recipes to try out.

“Big dea—you’ve never fucking mad—not even when you were little? No one brought you to the kitchen and let you help? Aren't all your friends back home the pastry chefs' kids or something?” You don’t mean to sound harsh, but your tone is a little more passionate than you were intending. 

But Jungkook knows you, knows you occasionally get that passionate about things, and takes your outburst in stride. 

“Yeah, one of them is, but we don't sit around the oven and make cookies all break long. And his dad is always too busy to teach us even if we wanted to.”

You decide something. Right then and there.

“This year you are.”

“What?”

“Mark your last Saturday off because I'm going to show up here, ingredients-a-plenty and teach you how to make solstice cookies. I have a million recipes up here,” you tap your head with a finger, “But I'll choose the easiest ones. And I’ll come over early so we can spend the day making all of them. I can’t in good conscience leave for the break knowing you’ve never made them.”

He sighs. “Do I have any say in the matter?”

“Absolutely not.”

Jungkook stares at you and you can’t figure out what he’s thinking. You’re worried he’s going to say no anyway. To say you’re crazy and that they’re just cookies and that he has more important things he has to do on his Saturday before leaving for home.

But he doesn’t. And you should’ve known he wouldn’t, not after all the time you’ve spent together. 

You know better. Know him better.

“Alright Picasso. Sounds like a plan. I’m looking forward to it,” he decides, and goes back to watching the movie. 

It’s the first time he’s ever repeated a nickname.

“Wait! The wind guy wants to replace who?!” Jungkook shouts. 

You laugh at his confusion, and rewind the movie.

Jungkook wakes up sore.

His back is killing him, which makes sense since he’s half lying on the couch, half on the ground. 

The TV’s silently playing some slideshow of movie recommendations based on recent watches. 

He checks his phone, reaching for it on the coffee tale. 

14% battery. 

4:07am. 

Shit, he fell asleep. 

After the solstice movie he wanted to watch its predecessor. You had no qualms and so on it went, but he doesn’t remember much after the brothers started fighting.

Hearing soft, even breathing next to him he turns to see you, hunched over in your spot asleep, no doubt in the process of ruining your own back.

He should go to bed.

You should go to bed. 

But you’ve never stayed the night.

What should he do? Should he wake you? 

But you look so peaceful. And it’s nearing exams. You barely sleep when it’s exams season. 

Instead, Jungkook goes to check the guest room, but it’s a mess with yesterday's comings and goings. Make-up and clothes and hangers strewn everywhere.

Quietly, making a decision he hopes you won’t kill him for in the morning, he pads back to your sleeping form. 

It’s for your back, he tells himself. No other reason.

Deja vu sets in as he scoops you up from the couch, blanket and all. Just like last time, you gain enough consciousness to know to wrap your arms around his neck, but not enough to wake up. Your head rests on his shoulder and he selfishly savours the feeling as he walks down the short hallway to his room.  

Jungkook sets you down gently on one side of the bed, and your arms release, slumber undisturbed as he tucks you in.

He goes back to the living room to retrieve your phones. Yours is still at 56%, and he places it on the table beside you when he returns.

Climbing into his side of the bed, he’s careful not to touch you.

Though he wants to. 

Desperately. 

His sleep deprived brain is too slow to block out the thoughts that start to race. Thoughts of how he wants to turn around and pull you into his chest, slide an arm around your waist, and kiss you goodnight. How he wants to wake up in the same position, you still in his arms. 

But he’s also awake enough to know that will never happen. That you’re with Nel, and happy with him. That he’s drawn that nice, big line.

He’s awake enough to know you being in his bed is a fluke, unintentional.

A one time thing.

Plugging his phone into its charger, he sets it down on his own bedside table and pulls the covers up, falling back asleep.

His back facing you. 

An exhale wakes you.

Warm and cozy, you take a deep breath and roll to your left side, stretching on the way over. The scents of clean linen and something familiar find you. It’s comforting, that smell, but you can’t place it.

Another exhale, but this time you feel it as well as hear it.

You open your eyes to see a sleeping Jungkook face not a foot from your own and you jolt in shock, falling off the bed in the process. 

You look up from your new seat on the floor, ignoring the pain in your side from landing, and peer over the covers to check on Jungkook, who, miraculously, hasn’t woken up from your tumble. 

Relieved, your mind focuses on more pressing questions like ‘how did you get here?’ And ‘why were you in his bed?’ 

The last thing you remember was being halfway through the prequel to A Miser Brothers Solstice on the couch, watching Jungkook more than the movie because of how invested he’d become in the story. 

But you aren’t on the couch now. You were in his bed. 

The bed of the Prince of the Western Shores. 

The Prince who has a girlfriend, and you, who has a very long term, very serious boyfriend.

You hear a vibration, and following the sound, you find your phone on the bedside table. 

You quickly grab it quickly and go to the living room as quietly as you can manage. 

There’s a large number of unread texts. 

SlurryYuri [11:08pm]: hey, just checking in. You didn’t get home when you said you’d try for SlurryYuri [11:31pm]: Helloooooooo? YN? You there? SlurryYuri [12:14am]: it’s getting late YN, when are you coming home? Are you on your way?

Missed Calls: (3)

SlurryYuri [2:43am]: it’s been hours, so you better be dead or have crashed in the school somewhere. Either way I’m kicking your ass when you get home

Missed Calls: (2)

(Recent)

SlurryYuri [9:36am]: you’re still not home?? YN seriously, where are you SlurryYuri [10:23am]: If you don’t message me back in an hour I’m calling the police and filing a missing persons

Shit. 

Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit. You crashed hard, the shoot must have taken more out of you than you thought, so you never texted Yuri you were going to crash in a sleep pod at school like you’d planned too. 

You make quick work of messaging her back, glad she unintentionally gave you just the excuse you needed. 

YN [10:25am]: ohmygod I’m soooooo sorry, it was the school one. I fell asleep in the school. I’m sorry for worrying you. I’ll be home soon, promise. I’m just going to grab breakfast first. Again im sorry

SlurryYuri [10:27am]: thank the gods youre okay!! Don’t ever do that to me again YN! I don’t wanna be the one who has to break news to your mom!! She’s too nice.  SlurryYuri [10:27am]: and take your time getting back if your rushing for me, I’m not at the dorm SlurryYuri [10:27am]: Tai showed up yesterday out of the blue and took me dancing. We’re out getting brunch right now, and he has plans for the rest of the day SlurryYuri [10:28am]: Im just glad you’re not dead in a ditch somewhere

YN [10:29am]: me too, and okay I will. Thanks for checking up on me and making sure im safe, youre my favourite

SlurryYuri [10:30am]: damn right I am, see you tn <3

YN [10:30am]: see you <3

You exhale deeply, that was fucking close. 

Your stomach rumbles and it reminds you that you actually need to get breakfast. 

What could you have? You could order in again, but that means a wait time and you are hungry now. You could raid Jungkook's pantry, or see if he has any fruit, but then you think that’s a gross invasion of privacy when it’s not movie night and you haven’t asked if it’s okay. 

Wait.

The egg tarts!

You dash to the fridge, the marvellous sight of a greenhouse inside a coffee mug comes into view. Stuffing one down before you even get the box from the fridge, you exit the kitchen, sit down on the couch, setting the box on the coffee table. Once opened in front of you, you realize there is a healthy amount of tarts inside. 

How many did Jungkook ask for?

Speaking of, a bed-headed, yawning Jungkook makes his morning debut, still in last night's clothes.

“Hey,” he says groggily, walking over and stealing a tart.

“Hey!” you say back, not nearly as friendly. 

“Overnight tax, Picasso. Room isn’t free.” He chuckles at your faux outrage, popping half the tart in his mouth as he walks to the kitchen and grabs something from the fridge. Returning, you see it’s a morning protein shake. 

Gross. 

“So is that name the one you’re sticking to now?” you ask, picking up another tart. At this rate they won’t last until lunch.

“Yeah, that okay with you? It’s your name in my phone after all.”

“It is?” You didn’t know that.

“Yeah, has been since the start.” 

You’re quickly learning that sleepy morning Jungkook is very different from morning post work-out Jungkook, friend Jungkook and photographer Jungkook. His voice is deeper, he’s a lot more relaxed, and maybe even harmlessly borderline flirty, like he’s not all there yet. Softer. 

“Picasso’s just fine. A compliment really.”

“Oh? And what am I in your’s then? Hopefully something just as nice?”

You tell him like it is.

“PJK.”

“PJK?” he asks, incredulous.

“Yeah? It’s obscure enough to not be recognizable if someone were to see it, but enough for me to know who it is.”

“Nah, you need something better, PJK is boring.”

“It’s your initials.”

“And boring,” he’s really not letting up on this. 

“Well...what would you save yourself as?”

He mulls it over for a minute before deflating. “Okay, fair point, but I seriously want a new one. Something that can rival Picasso.”

“Do you have any nicknames? Something not completely obvious?”

For a morning person, Jungkook sure is taking his time. Maybe he was only a morning person before 8am, and then if he got up anytime after that he became a normal person who despised mornings like everyone else.

“Uhh…Vivian calls me JK, but that’s essentially the same thing as PJK. My buddies back home sometimes call me Kook, but I don’t think that works either. My mum has one for me that I will not disclose to anyone so long as I am breathing. So I guess not.”

A lightbulb dings over your head. “What about your security? Don’t they have special code names for you when they detail you? Like bear or eagle?” 

“Yeah, but it’s not nearly as badass as either of those.”

“Fess up,” you say. Now you have to know.

“Hare.”

“Hare?” Now it’s your turn to be incredulous. “Like a rabbit?”

“Yep.”

An idea pops into your head and an evil grin spreads across your face, one you know is already setting worry into Jungkook’s still awakening brain as you change his name.

“I don’t like that look,” he confirms. “What’d you change it to?”

You flip your phone around and hold it up to him.

“Bunny?” he says incredulously once again.

“Yes.”

“I give you Picasso, one of the greatest painters of all time, and you think giving me bunny is anywhere near on par with that?”

Teasing him is far too fun, especially when he makes it this easy for you.

“Oh absolutely. In fact, I think it’s the best name I could possibly set it as.”

Jungkook disagrees, vehemently. “No, change it back. PJK is fine.”

“Too late. You dug your grave, now lie in it.”

Jungkook brings a hand to his face, pinching the crease between his brows and takes a very long, deep breath, exhaling just as dramatically. 

You take that as your victory. But you’re sorely mistaken.

He launches at you, reaching for your phone and you scream, reaching your arm to keep it away from him. You have a fox socked foot on his chest to try and keep him back. His right arm is holding him up near your hip on the couches edge and he’s reaching with his left as far as he can without breaking his sternum on your heel. 

“Give it!”

“Never!”

You try to bring up your other foot to push him away, but Jungkook is strong, and forces both it and the one on his chest down with the arm that was supporting him, temporarily keeping himself up with his left hand on the back of the couch. 

With your legs out of the way he can almost reach his phone. But in his distracted state, misses the couch when he goes to put his supporting arm down again, and flips onto the ground, taking you with him. You scream, but his arms wrap around you as he makes sure to take the brunt of the impact, landing on his back, you safely secured to his chest. 

There’s a moment of pure stunned silence, you resting your forhead on his chest while you process, him not letting go of your waist as he gets a breath into his winded self, before you’re both laughing as you take in what happened.

“You okay?” he asks.

“Yeah, you?”

He takes a second to respond. “I’m great.” 

You push to sit up, and he releases you from his hold, but that was a mistake. Because now you’re sitting on his lap. 

It takes an entire three seconds of you staring at him and him staring right back before you jump and scramble off him as fast as you can. 

“Sorry.” you say in unison, you standing and him from the ground. It’s a painfully awkward 8 seconds before you break, cackling at the whole situation, and he joins in with you again. 

Jungkook brushes off his pants as he gets up too. “Got any plans before tonight,” he asks, business as usual.

“Nope, cleared my schedule in case this went long, I’ve got the whole day.”

You swear his smile grows two sizes.

“Well in that case,” he looks to the TV, then back to you, “Wanna start movie night early?”

An entire day to relax and chill out before the hell that is exams season takes your every free second? 

Yes please.

“Solstice movie marathon?” you propose slyly, near devious.

“I’ll get the popcorn,” he confirms, already halfway to the kitchen.

You spend the day like that, on the couch watching movie after movie, both pretending the little incident never even happened. 

But you make sure to go home after movie night this time. 

Chapter Nine: Sugar Cookies and Devious Confessions

A/N 2: This chapter kicked my ass but it's here and I couldn't be more thrilled. I really like how it's ended so I hope you guys do too.

A/N 3: As always, Thank you for reading, loves. Xoxo - Yoon <3

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[bakugoushotwife]

𝖘𝖔𝖚𝖑 𝖇𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖉 // 𝖙𝖍𝖗𝖊𝖊: 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖐𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖔𝖋 𝖈𝖚𝖗𝖘𝖊𝖘

a/n: here is the finale to part one!! thanks to everyone being patient with me to get this part out, i've been going thru it lately but we got her done. i haven't proofread everything but will as it goes live, just kinda wanted to put it up. this shit gets dark so proceed at your own risk. cw: gore, blood, murder, major character death, infanticide, smut, cowgirl, pregnancy journey, serious graphic descriptions, etc. dead dove do not eat. series masterlist jjk masterlist part two

he grips your forearms, pink lips parted in disbelief. his touch is gentle, eyes gleaming with emotions yet unnamed. “again. say it once more.” he whispers, seemingly searching for the physical signs already as his eyes dance around your stomach. 

“i’m pregnant, the healer confirmed it–our heir. he or she is coming!” you laugh in astonishment, a gentle warmth blushing across your cheeks. he pulls you against his broad chest within the next second, a myriad of thoughts occurring in his brain all at once. his wife–his queen, was with child. he was no longer the man he was cursed to be. he was loved by you, and would soon become a father to a loving baby of his own creation. a monster he may be, but solitude had lost its grasp on him, and he would never feel guilt for his monstrous ways now. not with a family to protect. a family. ryomen sukuna—head of a family. 

you nuzzle your face against his neck, and his heart physically aches with the emotion he stores in it for you. surely this is something much stronger than love. no one could ever feel as strongly as he does. he sighs softly. comfortably, and sets you back on your feet with a soft chuckle that rumbles inside both of your chests. 

“what wonderful news—outstanding news, my love…you have made me the happiest man...what a gift..” he says in a voice nearly foreign to you with its overwhelming gentleness. it conflicts with the look in his eyes. it’s hard to describe—the love and adoration he’s always held is there, with something else lying beneath. a certain icy cruelty that you know he’s capable of—a primal protectiveness. yes, gone were the days of leaving you in the throne room or bed chambers by yourself to be waited on by uraume and the rest of the staff. no, no. he would be attached to you like a second soul, as if you weren’t growing one already. 

he just couldn’t bear to risk it. especially as the building plans commenced and more strangers would be around his wife than ever before. his nerves were…heightened so to speak. you didn’t want to call it paranoia, as you can understand exactly where his concerns come from. he’s never cared for anyone. not even a fucking little bit, and now he has an entire universe of feelings stored inside of one person—seperate from himself. it’s terrifying. it’s vulnerable in ways he hates to admit, for any one of his enemies that knows of your existence knows exactly how to break him apart. all the sorcerers he’s wronged, all of the families of those he has personally extinguished—they all have a way to enact revenge. they all have a clear path to ripping his heart out of his chest, and it’s a fate worse than death. even the thought of you falling into enemy hands is enough for sukuna to erect gates with enchantments and veils, laying traps of his own mind’s invention all around the palace grounds to ensure your home remains a free territory for you and his baby. 

his baby. his son or daughter growing fruitfully within you. only three people know of the baby’s existence—you, him, and uraume. and this is how the list would stay until it is simply unavoidable. he will cater to your every need himself; and no one else should enter within ten feet of you unless they want to lose their heads. he makes this much clear, announcing the decree to his castle staff. of course they’re curious as to why they can no longer serve their queen–but any questions they have die on their tongues with the feral tone of commands from their king. 

you think it’s all a bit much, but you wouldn’t say anything against his wishes. this is what helps him rest peacefully at night, what makes him believe you are totally and wholly safe. besides it’s more relaxing this way. the only hustle and bustle is about the additions to your home, no servants nagging you about the certain tinctures and powders you should be taking to support your baby through the pregnancy; nor them cooing about how dominant and healthy king sukuna’s offspring would be. no. it’s just the two of you and the moment. the first few months were rocky—much more negative than positive with your symptoms and struggles. your husband was a rock amidst the nausea-inducing waters. he may not be inspirational or motivational in his words, and he may not know simply from instinct alone how to comfort you; but do not mistake that for neglect. he is ever curious, and attentive. he can tell when you need something…he just needs you to help him along as to what for the first few weeks into this beautiful journey. 

he’s quick to provide you a trash receptacle or to rush after you as you run into the bathroom to puke. he’s the one holding a cool rag to the back of your neck and keeping your hair out of the way, the sound of your seemingly endless retching tugging at his heart. he learns that the term “morning sickness” is really a lie—you’re sick at all hours of the day. he nearly feels guilty over your suffering, keeping you hydrated on water and coconut milk for extra nutrients. you aren’t keeping much food down, but he tries to make sure you’re offered plenty of it. going into the second month of your weak exhaustion and pathetic puking, he’s growing more than concerned. 

“i’m calling the doctors, my queen is suffering far too much.” he announces, using a rag to dab the sweat off your forehead as the toilet receives yet another round of your stomach’s contents. another hand fashions your hair into some sort of ponytail, and the other two stabilize your hips. you shake your head, leaning back to sit on your haunches as you wipe your mouth. 

“it’s perfectly normal. i’ll enter the second trimester soon, hopefully it will stop then.” you say, chipper. he finds it confusing how you can clearly feel so bad but pretend otherwise. your child isn’t even showing in you yet, you only look as if you’ve had a large dinner. and while you’re ridiculously adorable in this slightly swollen state, he’s left mystified by how such a small babe can disrupt everything about your body. your appetite increases and wanes depending on the day, you cry over a fallen bird's nest and then threaten to light him aflame. it’s a lot for him to wrap his head around, as someone who’s never really been well versed in emotions to begin with. but he is patient above all else—and that’s just fine with you. he’s there for every mood swing, he lets you beat on his chest and yell at him–he lets you crawl into his lap and hold yourself close, to giggle and kiss all over his face only to whisper how horny you are. 

at least that much is the same. if anything, it’s increased. and while sukuna has never been a delicate man, nor a submissive one—he is a somewhat changed man. his wife–only for his wife. he can tame the desire to absolutely fuck you apart for the sake of your growing child—he doesn’t know what exactly your body can handle at this time, despite what he may crave. but…you know what you can handle, don’t you? he…can allow you to use his body in this way too. it’s the least he can do, really. he knows he’s not the most caring man in the universe. frankly, he’s spent many a time thinking you deserve someone much more loving and doting than he. but you bask in the love that does flow from him, and your body is being used to grow his offspring. so yes, he clears the throne room of contractors and servants and architects making last minute adjustments, adding rooms fit for children to thrive in and his family to gather in; all because his precious wife made an appearance demanding his attention. yes, he lets you position yourself against his lap and rut against him at your own pace, grinding on his thigh while you beg for his hands to toy with your tits. 

“please–i need more, my king~” you pout, pawing at his wrists, dragging them up to your chest.he finds you enchantingly adorable, and this neediness is such a good look on you. not being able to throttle you nearly makes his bones ache, but he uses his lower set of hands to guide your hips over his defined thigh–his top set of hands giving into his sweet wife’s desires. 

and he always knows exactly how to touch you. he kneads at your breasts, the sore fat of your tits melting into his hands so perfectly you hiss and let your head fall back, rolling across your shoulders at just the simple enjoyment of his fingers tweak at your swollen nipples. he loves how sensitive you’ve become, how your brows pinch together and your cheeks darken the closer you get to soaking your panties. he knows you’ll plunge yourself on his cock over and over again–letting him coat your insides with the seed that’s already taken root in your gorgeous little womb. 

“of course. my naughty little queen can’t sleep without her husband’s cock pressing into her?” he coos, the words so taunting but so loving at the same time. you howl with excitement, ripping his pants down after several seconds of effort, your animalistic growls of need so pleasing to his ears and ego. you take as much of his cock inside as you can, thighs tightening at the effort. 

“mm–nuh uh, can’t help it–just need you all the time!! ‘s your fault–you did this to me!” you pout, bottom lip swollen from the amount of times your teeth have dug into it. your belly, just barely bloated with the sign of pregnancy, just glistens in the candlelight of his throne room, everything about you was calling out to him—as always. he doesn’t know why the sensation still surprises him every now and again. so he helps you, hands on your waist to help lift you up and down along the shaft of him, watching your face contort and ease with bone-deep pleasure. “oh, yessss~” 

your hands scramble to hold something, his wrists, his chest–anything with purchase as your orgasm shakes through your entire body. he only uses your tight walls for a few more lengthy strokes, erupting thick white ropes that paint your insides in the best way–the way that makes your legs tremble and buckle, so spent from your attempts at riding him that you’re leaning into his chest and closing your eyes to sleep. this has been your routine for about three weeks now, not that he minds. 

but the second trimester…oh how golden. this was the first time that sukuna really understood the beauty of pregnancy. with all of the nights of puking and bad sleep and weird cravings and mood swings and the list goes on—he was wondering what exactly was the big glow with babymaking aside from your sex drive and the overall concept that you get a baby out of it. but now, as your bump develops and grows everyday, as your energy evens out somewhat and all you want to do is nest and decorate for the baby—he gets it. uraume brings bigger robes so you may dress comfortably, and sukuna passes along your every demand to the builders. the baby’s nursery is being painted by hand, the crib by the finest carpenters that japan has to offer. sukuna wouldn’t be sukuna of course unless he threatened to kill every worker on the project if they spilled the news of what they were working on to a single soul. 

the fields outside the palace have become your favorite place to be. you enjoy laying in the sun, plucking the wildflowers that grow on the hillside and weaving them into a flower crown, and watching the animals sprint around in the treeline below. sukuna would watch from the castle some days, letting you bask in nature under his careful oversight. some days he joins you, listening to you prattle about the birds that like the sugar water you lay out. the peace that you bring to his life is something astounding. he never would have imagined himself enjoying listening to someone so bubbly and optimistic. you have always been a light he had never known existed, and he sees you as a literal angel. the way the summer skies cast a glow down on you—glowing up your hair and skin and highlighting that beautifully round bump. 

this day, he sits outside with you–watching you lean back, robes unbound to drink in some more sun. he’s proud that he’s able to make it such a safe place for you–your happy place. you can hear him approach, a joyful grin spreading across your face as you look over at him. 

“the baby knows you’re here~” you coo, supporting the underside of your rounded bump. the king lays beside you, a smirk on his face at the greeting. “say hello to your spawn.” you add, snickering. and dutifully so, he leans in and places his hand on your stomach. the broad paw spans most of the stretched skin, life and wonder sparkling in his ruby red eyes as he feels it, the repeated soft flutters against his palm make his heart skip a beat. his son or daughter is so active, and very strong. and they seemingly feel him, like you claimed. they like his voice and his touch, his gentle brush of his hand inspiring another tirade of kicks that send you giggling. 

it just makes things that much more real for him. his child is on the way, halfway grown already. he can’t wait to meet them, to see if they resemble you or himself more closely, to have a mini-him to take under his wing and entrust his philosophy to. he can’t wait to watch you be a mother either. just what his limited imagination can conjure up warms the coldness in his chest. the idea of you swirling around a sweet nursery with the baby smiling with gums and lips, cheeks rosy from being so loved. 

“hello, little baby of mine.” sukuna hums, leaning down to kiss below your navel. 

you smile sweetly, eyes crinkled in the corners. “we need to think of names!” you hum, running your fingers through his hair. it soothes you to have him so near, your protector and greatest advocate. he hums at the feeling, resting his chin on your breastplate, right before the swell of your stomach. those eyes melt you every time, especially when they look at you with such fondness. 

“their name will come to us when we look upon their face. no need to rush.” he hums softly, rubbing your stomach absentmindedly. he hadn’t even realized he was doing it. 

“i suppose so, but i would like to call them something aside from the baby.” you hum, twisting the pale pink strands around your fingers, wondering if your child would get this uniquely colored hair. 

“then let’s call them ayame, for now.” he decides, the corners of his lips twitching upwards in a smile. the word has so much significance in love and beauty, and he knows it’s the right one to bestow upon his unborn. 

“you’re so sweet, i love it. ayame–for now.” you hum once more–nodding your agreement, resting your hand atop his own. before long, the sun begins to set and the king ushers you inside for dinner—relieved your appetite returned. 

everyday after that was just as beautiful. you worked tirelessly daily to craft ayame’s clothes, knitting in neutrals to ensure the pieces would suit either gender of child. your excitement grows with your stomach, and so does sukuna’s protectiveness. you hardly use the bathroom by yourself. your pregnancy is now common knowledge amongst the castle staff–widespread across your kingdom. so naturally, sukuna is even more scrutinous of anyone coming in and out. the construction is nearly complete, but enemies could be lurking anywhere. and no one is more aware of that than your husband. 

he’s more than relieved whenever the construction reaches its final days as you’re about to pop. he still hovers, don’t misunderstand, but he can take a breath. any day now, you’d go into labor and the heian era’s new prince or princess would make their grand entrance. the nursery was fully prepared and the doctors and midwives had arrived as the construction workers were leaving, everything was in place. 

imagine his surprise when he’s thrown out of sleep in the middle of the night—one of his veils have been breached. moments later, uraume rushes into the room. 

“my king–the perimeter guards caught someone…they had weapons. ordered to kill the queen.” they pant, out of breath from hustling here so quickly. and with that one sentence, his every worst fear is confirmed. people are after you—they want to kill you. kill his baby and his wife in one fell swoop. 

he sees red. 

he looks over at you–sleeping deeply beside him. he can’t disrupt your rest, not when the baby will be coming so soon..so he leans over to kiss your lips softly before following uraume to the throne room to torture the infiltrator that thought they could get away with such a thing. 

he doesn’t think he’s ever been this bloodthirsty before, either. love like this makes you do crazy things–feel crazy things. the perpetrator is being held on his knees, head forced forward to look at the floor. 

“my servants tell me that we’ve caught a roach. let’s hear it.” he spits, intent on torturing this cretin slowly—send a message to everyone else that tries to come after his family. that if you attack—you will be dismembered and scattered across the continents with the breeze. 

“or maybe you just caught the fall guy, and you didn’t stop anything at all.” the man smirks boldly at the king, a shuffle upstairs catching his attention. 

you wake up when the last traces of your husband’s warmth has dissipated. you blink awake, feeling around in his spot to confirm his absence. huffing, you roll to your back, seeing his shadow shuffle around the room. “my love? are you having trouble sleeping tonight?” he’s been known to periodically wake up and patrol the place to make sure that nothing’s slipped past his other defenses. 

“notcha love—you can’t bring that demon to life, whore.” 

and those are the last words you ever hear. 

there’s a slash across your gut, deep. you can hear your blood splatter on the ground—similar to what you had always imagined your water breaking to sound like. you don’t even feel the pain, really. just the fear. just the realization—that you’re too late, that all sukuna had done was for nothing. you’re dying. you’re going to die today–here. alone, and scared, the slash that comes next nearly decapitates you, and you can’t use your technique. you never even got out of bed, only your legs had touched the floor. you hadn’t even been able to stand before they slaughtered you. 

the baby…the baby is gone just as grotesquely as you are–pulled from the gash in your midsection to fight these grown men on their own. ayame was a girl. and she was suffocated before her eyes ever opened, blood strewn about the room. 

the two murderers flee before sukuna makes it to the top floor, able to cascade a rope out of the window and sneak right out, now that all of the security is distracted.  

seconds later, he throws the door open. he nearly sprints forward to check on you–your form visible on the bed. but as he gets closer, he slips. his feet slide on something wet, warm—and he knows. he knows he’s lost the only person that ever mattered. his heart pounds faster as the staff rush in with the candles–revealing the gruesome scene. 

he sobs. it’s a foreign feeling, crying. he had only felt this once before—when he knew he was going to be a father. that was certainly more pleasant than…this. you’re gone. his light–his eternal sunshine…slaughtered like cattle on his bed. you’re gutted, the scent of iron finally hitting his senses. had he been in shock before? is that why he didn’t immediately notice? your head is barely attached to your neck—eyes wide open with horror, mouth hung open to scream. there’s so much blood. dripping out of your mouth, gushing over your chest and out of your abdomen–soaking your pretty lavender nightgown. he reaches for you, emotions heightened to levels left undocumented. that’s when he sees—his eyes focusing on the lifeless lump that was his baby daughter. he reaches for her too–little ayame. he cradles his girls to his body, absolutely wailing. his body spikes in temperature—cursed technique going haywire. he’s inconsolable. his cursed energy is spiking to heights unknown, body shifting—growing larger–rage flowing like a new source of energy all on it’s own. his soul is shattering, twisting and knotting up in his body–heart aching like never before. it was one mistake—he left for two seconds, to let you sleep and now you are gone forever. his baby is dead—his wife…he’ll never speak to you again. never feel your hands on his skin or the warmth of your kiss. he can’t go on like this—no. he has no desire to live. 

the love of his life, his first born child—ripped away from him in an instant. all the peace and happiness and joy you showed him existed has turned into the deepest and darkest personal hell he has ever known. he looks around him—even more blood than ever before. his technique—it killed everyone. he can’t find it in himself to consider it again, too focused on the mangled mess they made of his queen. he will avenge you—he will murder everyone in his path until someone can put him out of this misery. until then–he will take every other soul out of this world. if he can’t be happy–if he doesn’t get to live this life in peace–then no one else will either. 

the entire castle is consumed with the raw force of his cursed energy, shattered in an instant. as if he was a natural disaster in and of himself. perhaps maybe now he is…for he is no longer a man. ryomen sukuna never was quite just a man–the king of the heian era. but now, he is the king of something else. of all things bad and evil—of all the things that can help him enact revenge. the king of curses.

tags: @neon-crow @skypperlegacy @gis4greenandgreenisgre4t  @alastors-radio  @alltimenogoaway-blog  @tragedyofabrokensoul @gojosukuna2268  @hannas16  @alwaysfreakingout @thepurpleempath @pelicanpizza  @aenishas @satsuk-jjk @catobsessedlady @gucci-basura @eiaaasamantha @asukahiriko @t4naiis @thejujvtsupost @mymelx @maskedpacific @berranurates @enchantingartisanwitch @celena-alanze

[boozenboze]

1.The Blood Hound

Task Force 141 x Roberta!Male reader Summary: The new recruit was...a strange one. Never really spoke much and always strayed behind the others whenever walking together. Ever since his arrival, none of them could shake the feeling that he wasn't your average soldier... Side note- Teleiotís is the greek word for Terminator

Females: She/Her, She/They DNI Teleiotís. That was the call sign M/n had acquired during his time in the military. He was a new sergeant in the 141, and the others were fully accepting. Although, there was something about him that didn't sit right. There was never much information about him on his file, not even his age, not much about his background as well. Though after asking how long he had been on the field, the other members of the Task Force concluded that the male had to be in his early 20's. As for details of his upbringing, that was all classified.

Ever since his arrival, he had always been the strange one out of the team, but nevertheless he had proven himself time and time again. Even with that, they all still had their suspicions, especially Ghost. The man was always so calm, and the constant professional tone wasn't something he could get used too. He was used to Soap speaking freely and Gaz using some slang as he spoke, but M/n, he had never seen the man speak that way. Not to mention how he never got angry at anyone, no matter if someone is literally screaming in his face his demeanor never wavered.

It was clear that M/n was a well mannered young man, hell overly well mannered if anything. He had never once been disrespectful to anyone which was something many other soldiers found honorable. Then again, none of them truly know who M/n really is.

//////

It was a normal day so far, everyone either training, signing paperwork, or soldiers just coming back from missions. Gaz and Soap were talking about nothing in particular while Price sat at the coffee table, sipping some tea. M/n sat on the couch, sitting completely straight and upright as his hands stayed positioned on his lap. This was...normal, now to say the least due to the others having gotten used to the male and his unique quirks.

Ghost had entered the room, not making his presence known like usual, nearly giving Price a heart attack when he saw the man just standing in the doorway. Ghost's steps were swift but calculated as he loomed over M/n, who had noticed his arrival but hadn't acknowledged him. There was a brief silence before the h/c male spoke up, his overly round glasses hiding his eyes as he looked up at Ghost, his gaze meeting Ghost's more intense one.

"Do you need any assistance lieutenant?" M/n asked, tone overly perfect and well mannered like usual.

Ghost said nothing, gaze sharpening as he stared down at the man. There was an obvious tension in the air, one so thick that it could be cut with a knife. Soap and Gaz went silent as they watched what was happening, Price doing the same, brow risen as he set his tea down.

"Something wrong Ghost?" Price asked, tone authoritative yet curious as to what had gotten the large man worked up.

"Yeah 's something wrong mate?" Gaz asked, leaning against the counter top as Soap smirked.

There was more silence....then more silence...

"Come with me." Ghost finally spoke, walking out of the room just as silently like when he had first entered. The air in the room immediately changed, a sense of relief washing over the room. M/n had stood up walking in the same direction that Ghost had gone in. He turned down the corridor and saw Ghost standing by the door to the training room. Ah yes, the common occurrence where Ghost wants to test M/n's strength.

You may be wondering why, but Ghost had always had the feeling that the man was holding back. See, M/n wasn't the tallest nor most muscular looking guy you'd see, he had a very average build and doesn't look like he'd be a major problem to enemies on the field. That's where Ghost's suspicions kick in, despite the mans lack of obvious physical strength and endurance, anytime he had gotten a serious injury on the field he'd still moved like he was completely fine. But every time M/n sparred with him, the others, or any other soldiers, he always seemed like he wasn't giving his all. To Ghost, it seemed like the h/c haired male let whoever was sparring him beat him, and that was something Ghost didn't like. Not at all.

Instead of straight sparring with M/n, Ghost decided that an arm wrestle would do. He won the first round, the second round...the the third.... Despite the mask covering his face, Ghosts' annoyance was very clear. To him it was like the man wasn't even trying, not attempting to win at all.

"Is there a reason why you aren't trying to beat me Teleiotís." Ghost asked, tone gruff and harsh as he glared down at the smaller male. He tightened his grip on the other mans hand, gaze not easing up at all as he waited for a response.

M/n was silent for a moment, opening his mouth to say something before he was interrupted by a loud explosion outside the base. His own grip on Ghost's hand tightened as he froze in place. A few seconds passed before Gaz and Soap came bustling through the door.

"H-hey, ain't nothing to worry about." Soap said, giving a thumbs up with a nervous closed eye smile

"One of the rookies accidentally dropped their grenade and it went off..." Gaz continued, his voice trailing off as his gaze landed on M/n's arm. Remember how it was mentioned earlier that M/n doesn't have a lot of muscle? Well imagine the look on the mans face when he saw a large bicep popping out of the h/c haired males arm. There were highly noticeable veins running through it as well, going all the way up to his hand that had Ghost's hand in a death grip.

Soap had noticed it to, his eyes popping out of his skull as his gaze locked onto the mans arm. Ghost took M/n's current state of surprise to try and force his arm down, and to his surprise, the main didn't even budge. Not even an inch. Ghost was the one struggling this time, and it further proved that there was more to the enigmatic soldier. "Teleiotís.....Teleiotís!" Ghost rose his voice, making M/n snap back into reality. His grip on Ghost's hand went slack and his arm went back to normal. He quickly excused himself and exited the premises, leaving the other 3 men to question what just happened.

//////Timeskip//////

Price had been in his office, doing some paperwork and going through files. When he was done, he pulled out another file that had M/n's name on it. Unbeknownst to the others, he and Laswell had been doing their own research on the man. He had searched through very old files, and Laswell even looked up his name. As expected nothing came up but a few images of random stuff or random websites. She then got the idea to search up his call sign, Teleiotís.

Because of this, the 141 were about to lead down a rabbit hole of secrets, and the secrets of the strange mans past are something much darker than anything.

//////

(A/n: Part 2 guaranteed, and if it doesn't come out bash me. I have like 3 other things that i've been writing part 2 for.😵‍💫)

[bakugosworld]

Bitter not sweet

Endeavor x f! reader

platonic shoto x reader

Enji Todoroki and Y/N used to be a power couple. They used to be the most applauded couple at UA. Key words, used to be. Something disturbing happened to destroy their relationship, and now years later Y/N (a pro hero) is now helping teach and support her ex’s son in the same school she met his father.

Warnings: slight angst? Endeavor being Endeavor, trauma dumping, personal grudges

Endeavor could hear nothing but his own boots walking through the halls of his own agency. The place is empty due to the major villain attack that had happened earlier that day, and many of his sidekicks stayed to clean up the fight while Endeavor went to file some important paperwork due that day.

He shuffled inside his office and slowly shuts the door. As he makes his way to his desk his cell phone begins to ring. He quickly fishes it out of his pocket, recognizing the tune to be Fyumi calling. Thinking that there was an emergency he tenses up as he answers it. “Fyumi, what’s going on?” His voice alert. He hears her laugh from the other end of the line, his shoulders relaxed a bit. “Hey dad, I just wanted to know what you wanted for dinner? Shoto just finished his first day of UA and I want us all to eat together to celebrate tonight!” She seems excited as per usual.

Endeavor wraps up the conversation and stuffs his phone back into his pocket. Sighing as he sits down.

*earlier that day, Y/Ns perspective*

I had been hired as a new Heroics and Law teacher at UA high this year. I walked into the building for the first day of school and had passed a few familiar pros along the way. Once I reach my classroom I set down my bag and log into my computer. I had gotten the class environment set up during my orientation with Nezu who had provided me all the safety protocols and instructions. Once my computer is loaded I pull up my seating chart that EraserHead had provided and projected it to the wall, not even bothering to look at it.

I didn’t have a class untill an hour or two later considering I’m not a homeroom teacher, so I had decided to sit in the Faculty Room while I waited and caught up with a few long term friends. Once the bell went off I started walking to my classroom with Present Mic whose class is right next to mine. We stand outside the door chatting while watching the students trickle in one by one.

Eventually I had walked in to begin class. “Hello class my name is (pro hero name) but you can all me miss (last name)” I greet as I stand at the podium in the front of their seats. The class greets me back and I hear a few students talking amongst themselves quietly. “I going to call attendance so when I call your name just say a simple ‘here’. And if I mispronounce your name, please inform me right away. Understood?”

The students mutter words of acknowledgment. Going through the list, I seen a few surnames that are recognizable. “Next is shoto todo…roki…?” My jaw slightly agape as the last name rings in my head like a steel drum. The name Todoroki repeating itself over and over again. “Here” a monotone voice rings from the back of the classroom. I slowly turn my head up to look at the boy with split dyed hair. There’s no way. He looks exactly like him. Like her too. My heart squeezes in my chest. I thought I was over it.

I break myself out of the thought. I’ll just look into it after class. “Katsuki Bakugou?” I continue with roll call despite being shaken. I hear an angry grumble “here” from the opposing side of the classroom. I sigh and continue with class as normal despite me screaming internally.

A few students came to talk to me after class, some of them wanted to know more about my pro hero life *cough midoria cough* while others wanted to know more about the subject I would be teaching them this year. One student in particular left the class without a word to anyone. Yep. That’s his kid alright.

*back to the todoroki household*

“So shoto.. how was your first day?” Endeavor asks before shoving food into his mouth. Shoto sighs “it was fine..” Endeavor looks up to his youngest son. “What about your teachers? What teachers do you have, I want to make sure you have the best of the best so you can reach your goal” endeavor shoves more food into his mouth while waiting for his son’s response.

“My homeroom teacher is Mr. Aizawa. Then I have Miss (L/N) for Heroics and Law. Then I have Present Mic for English.” Shoto muttered quietly but it was loud enough for Endeavor to hear. Endeavor choked on his rice and slammed one hand on the table to stabilize himself while the other beat at his chest to dislodge the food from his throat.

Fyumi panicked and started to pat her father on the back, while asking him if he’s okay. Natsuo held back a very slight smile and kept eating. Endeavor finally cleared his throat and started down at the table in disbelief. ‘…y/n??’

After that incident he had finished his food and left to his room muttering a small ‘thank you’ to Fyumi for the dinner. Endeavor sat on the edge of his bed, looking towards the ground and his hands cupped around his mouth to help calm him down. He sat there for hours, thinking back on memories of you two in your high school days. It had been a long time since he had thought of you, he tried to suppress the memories due to the guilt that ate him alive.

—flashback—

“Enji!” Your voice rang through the halls of UA, he can hear your footsteps grow increasingly louder. He glanced over his shoulder to see you running his way. He smirked slightly and faced away from you, unsurprisingly, you jumped onto his back, like you always did, and wrapped your arms around his neck, and legs around his waist. He chuckled a bit “Hey hun, have a good day?” He asked while pushing you up his back by your thighs and holding you there. You nod into his neck. “It was good, Toshinori helped me push even harder with my quirk today during training” you say smiling. Enji slightly frowned at the name but was still happy for you. The truth is Enji never cared for Toshinori but didn’t absolutely hate him either. “That’s great darling, I’m happy for you” Enji bounced you on his back jokingly. You laugh as he spins you both around. “Thank you beef cake” you tease, and plant a sweet kiss on his cheek.

—End of flashback—

Enji sighed and sat up a bit more. He looked around his room, seeing pictures of his kids and a few with Rei. He walks to his closet and grabs out a small box. He sits down on his bed again and opens the box that contains photos. Sifting through a few, he finally found what he was searching for. It was a picture of you and him together outside of UA on the first day of your third year. You were wrapped in his arms standing infront of him, both of you smiling widely.

He set the photo on his bedside table and threw the box under his bed. Finally deciding to go to bed since he had to leave early for work tomorrow morning. He lays down and stares at his ceiling. Little did he know, his dreams will be filled with memories of you that night.

A week later

You were sitting in your empty classroom, it was half hour before first period started when you heard a knock on your door. You looked up from your computer, wondering why anyone would be here so early to talk to you. “Come in” you project your voice so they can hear you. Slowly the door opened to reveal Shoto Todoroki himself. “Sorry to bother you so early Miss (L/N)” he gave a small bow to you. “You’re not bothering me at all Todoroki. Is there something I can do for you?” I say turning towards him to give him my undivided attention.

He looks sort of puzzled. “Yeah actually, I wanted to talk to you about something” he says still standing at the door. You pull up a chair next to you and pat it, signaling for him to sit down. “What’s on your mind kid?” You say as he sits down.

“I guess I’m just confused.” He says tilting his head slightly. “How so?” You asked him, slightly mirroring his actions. “I found this in my dad’s room.” He says lifting up the photo of you and Enji together. You sucked in a breath and felt your heart drop, now understanding what this is about.

“What is this about? Clearly you and my father know each other. Very well. So what exactly happened?” He says looking up to you. noticing your shocked face he immediately felt bad. “I apologize if I had made you uncomfortable Miss (L/N).”

Finally, you shake out of your shocked state. “No, no. Don’t worry about it Todoroki. And to answer your question, your father and I.. well.. we used to be together.. but that was a long time ago.” You say quietly. Todoroki nodded.

Todoroki had asked a few more questions to which you were happy to answer them. He then left to go to his first class, leaving you completely alone to think about Enji.

Aizawas class had a field trip today, so the only classes you had to teacher were 1-B and 1-C. Which was relatively easy considering they are both calm classes. For the most part. That was untill you were getting ready for your next class when Mrs. Midnight burst into your room. “(Hero name)!! we need you to help immediately!! Class 1-A has been attacked by villains at one of our training centers! Your class is getting covered by nezu, please hurry!!”

Chills ran cold down your spine. You immediately bolted out the door and ran as fast as you could to your car. Breaking the speeding limit as a hero looked bad, but your students were in danger. You were doing 80 in a 30. The only thing you can think of was how scared your students must be, but you know they can handle themselves.

You were, unsurprisingly, the first hero on scene. Bursting through the doors, you took in the battle before you. Immediately jumping into action, you protect your students with your life. You hold off the villains untill the rest of the pros show up.

—a sort few days later—

(I’m not good at writing fighting scenes sorry)

You thought it was a horrible idea. Anything can go wrong. It was absurd. Hosting the sports festival directly after a villain attack?? That’s just disrespectful to the students who fought hard to stay alive during the attack.

You angrily grumbled to yourself. You were walking around the stadium to ease your mind. The first task just finished, Midoria taking first place which shocked everyone. You huffed and leaned your back against a wall. “Enjoying the festival so far?” You heard a voice ask.

You peak up to see nezu approaching you. “Yeah I guess so” you mumble. “What seems to be on your mind (y/n)?” Nezu asked while sitting on the ledge next to you. “Is this the right thing nezu? Having the festival right after the attack? Won’t it put everyone on edge? What about the villains? Wouldn’t they show up here if they really wanted to?”

Nezus face never changed. “I see why you’re concerned (Y/N), but this festival is supposed to take the students minds off of what happened. And for the safety, we have plenty of pros here incase anything does go wrong. It would be the villains downfall to prey on the kids now”

You relaxed a bit more with that statement. “Yeah you’re right” Nezu nods. “I am, well I do have to go now. If you need anything else you know where to find me” nezu says as he wanders away.

You once again are alone. You stand up and start walking down the hall. “So. You’re a teacher now?” You shiver at the deep voice and you stop in your tracks. “Yeah. What about it?” You snap back. You turn around to see endeavor who had just turned the corner. “You’re teaching my son.” He replied with his casual RBF.

Scoffing, you cross your arms over your chest. “Really? I had no idea.” Your voice dripping with sarcasm. He didn’t seem to appreciate that but he stayed quiet for a moment. “Is that all you wanted? If so, I’ll be on my way.” You turn around to leave once again.

“It wasn’t my choice”

—flashback—

“What the hell enji?!” You screamed at him. His eyes dropping from your face down to the floor. “Did you have this planned the whole time??” You you yelled a bit louder once more, tears brimming your eyes. He, too, teared up. Feeling ashamed of himself.

It was the day before your graduation from UA, and Enji was here before you telling you, after three years, that things won’t work out. “Was I a joke to you?” He didn’t respond..

What was worse. Is he had proposed to Rei, your best friend of thirteen years. “How long were you together for?” Your voice filled with venom and tears. You weren’t even sure if you wanted to know the truth. Was this even real? Who would propose to your girlfriend’s best friend and not the girlfriend?

Even after all the talks of ‘I can’t wait to marry you’ ‘we should have kids’ ‘I’m gonna grow old with you’. You had foolishly believed it all.

He wanted to say something to soothe you, he wanted to hug you, to kiss you, to tell you everything is gonna be okay. He wanted to make the whole situation go away. He felt a deep hatred for himself, and for his father.

—flashback ends—

“The hell do you mean ‘it wasn’t your choice’” you mock, growing more irritated. He sighs. “I didn’t want to marry her” you scoff “yeah right. Now you’re just wasting my time.”

Enji grows agitated now, but still hurt. “It was my father. He forced me into the marriage. For benefits of the quirks. He threatened to ‘get rid’ of you if I didn’t cooperate. I knew you’d be safer staying away from me, so I left. I did as he said. Because I loved you. And truth is, I believe I still do.” He mumbled the last part. Sure, you’ve seen him several times throughout the years. You kinda had to considering he’s the number two pro hero. He’s at your meetings, on the same patrol route sometimes, on the scene of a crime. He’s everywhere. But this is the first time he’s addressed you since the break up.

Hearing his words though… you wanted to believe him. You had found the piece of yourself that still loved him too. It that didn’t change the fact that he was married with several kids. And you couldn’t do that to them. Especially shoto as you’ve grown fond of the boy.

“I’d love to believe you. Truly. I still care for you Enji, dare I say I love you. If I could, I’d be with you right now. But we can’t be together. Never again. As much as I do love you, you must think of your family first.” You say as you turn away and walk down the hall, heading towards the stands to watch the rest of the festival. Enji watched her walk away for what felt like the hundredth time, and his heart shattered.

But little did either of them know, shoto was standing just around the corner, listening to the conversation. He too, had grown fond of you. He had even started looking up to you as if you were the mother that he never really had. Needless to say, he was just as disappointed in his dad as his dad was with himself.

[bryngmemoney]

✁FASHION FLIRT✃

Megumi Fushiguro x Reader

⭑story masterlist link

tw: none

Writing in between messages!!

🪡Chapter Seven: Snacks

Megumi turns around to see you heading in his direction. You give a wave causing him to smile and wave back. “Hey, it’s so nice to finally properly meet you!” you greeted. “Same here.”

You two continued walking until finally entering the building. “So, Gojo’s your teacher right?” he questioned. “Yeah, people think he’s annoying cause of his attitude, but personally I think it’s way better than if we had some old man yelling at us or someone who just sat there.” Megumi hummed in response. “Yeah, i get it, but after you’ve known him for so long he gets on your nerves a lot.” You smiled at him, “You know him personally?” He shrugged, “Family friend.”

You two continued your way into the small lobby entrance built into the building. Building 7 was the studio building, so there were other art majors around. Utahime’s studio was right below Gojo’s. Apparently they originally had them next to each other but Utahime begged to get swapped down a whole floor due to Gojo’s antics. Now they remodeled the room next to it to be a film studio where some of Suguru Geto’s classes take place. You know that due to running into Yuta and Sukuna on occasions.

“Can I carry that for you?” Megumi asked. Currently the elevator for the building was under repair, so you guys had made your way to the stairs. In your hand was a small tub, not really a bother to carry, it had small supplies like needles, bobbins, measuring tape, and probably other detail things you had thrown in there the night before. “Oh it’s fine, it’s not that much.” “You’ve got your bag already, i’d feel bad if I didn’t help out a little.” Granted the bag was mostly for personal things, sketchbook and a few fabric samples you had been thinking of showing to your teacher for an opinion, but deciding to give into his request you gave Megumi the okay. “Thanks I really appreciate it.” “No problem at all.”

Once you guys had walked into the room, you went to set your stuff down at a table, still a few minutes early, people were be beginning to file in. Gojo wasn’t too strict on time anyway, so some took and extra 5 to arrive. Nobara was already there, at the closest table to you, chatting with a girl you recognized as Akari, one of her models. You started to organize your things, seeing that your other friend was currently engrossed in her conversation. “Alright i’m just gonna take some measurements today, you’ll be free to go in less than an hour, shouldn’t take to long-” “Megumi!” You both turned around to see Gojo make his way towards him, throwing an arm around his shoulders. “It’s been so long kid! What’s up with that?” You suppressed a laugh at how his expression dropped, and he shrugged off Gojo’s arm. “I’m here for a fitting, please let y/n work.” In reply Gojo just laughed “Okayyy, i’ll leave you to it then!”

“Thanks so much again Megumi, I’m glad I got see you, i’ll let you know when I need you to stop by again.” “Yeah, sure.” He thought about it for a second, and has been thinking about it since you first agreed to meet up. He had wanted to ask if maybe after your class was done you’d like to go out for lunch or something with him. Debating in his head he was about to work up the courage until your name was called. “Y/N??” Turning away from Megumi you saw Yuki standing there near the entrance of the room, though not calling too much attention to herself as everyone was moving around. “Oh, hey Yuki!” With that the blonde girl turned in your direction, holding up a plastic bag with the logo of a local gas station plastered on it. “Heyyyy! So nice to meet you! I don’t know if you’re allowed snacks in here, but I made a quick stop and got you something too. You could save it for later,” She placed her bag on the table, careful not to put it over any of your things. “I got a bunch so I’m sure there’s something you’d like in there.” With that Megumi decided it was probably his cue to head out, seeing as this was probably one of your other models that had arrived for their measuring. “I’m gonna go now, bye y/n, it was nice seeing you.” “Oh, bye Megumi, i’ll see you around!” “See you around.”

Author’s Note: chapter seven!! Yuki was fun to have enter the story, hope you guys enjoyed!!

Taglist below cut, feel free to comment or dm me to be added!!

TAGLIST

@iridescentrays @gumimegz @maya-maya-56 @mamafly @lunavixia @swissy23 @coltsgf @m00nglad3-mp3 @etsukis @xosren @qtnfer @oengleli @harek89 @y-sabell-a @morgyyyyyyy @getolvr @liliumaraneae @k3lbade @aiieera @dancedancey @get0sfav @chuyasthighs0 @hyssoplampflickers

[honeyjars-sims]

3.16 Mr. Sensitive

After Johnny had his talk with Lucy, she made good on her promise to trust him with more tasks. For a bit, he worried about what he’d gotten himself into. Gone were the days of lazing about on set—Johnny was following in Lucy’s footsteps with the amount of running around he was doing.

As much as his feet were aching by the end of the day, the productivity actually helped to boost Johnny’s confidence. For once, he felt useful. The things he did at work contributed to the content they were producing, both directly and indirectly. His co-workers appreciated his efforts and Lucy was grateful to have more time to focus on the bigger picture.

He was distributing call sheets when he heard Lacey, Lilly, and Clara discussing an idea for a video.

“We could all dress up as a different Voidcritter when we play the new game,” Lacey was suggesting to her cast mates.

“Great idea! I think I would really serve as Avesu,” Lilly offered. “I just need some feathers and some gold jewelry.”

“Ooh, I want to be Cyprin! They’re the cutest Voidcritter in my opinion,” said Clara.

“Hmm, you kind of look like Cyprin,” Lacey told her. Clara pursed her lips like a fish and crossed her eyes, making her friends laugh. “I’d like to be Nimbus,” Lacey continued. “I don’t know how I would make the cloud part, though.”

“Oh, that’s easy,” Johnny broke in. “The art department has some foam sheets. If you cut them into strips you could arrange them to look like a cloud without it being too heavy.”

Johnny flipped over one of the call sheets and began sketching out his idea. “Like this. You can sit on one of the ottomans and it’ll look like you’re perched on the cloud.”

“Wow, that’s really great, Johnny!” Lacey exclaimed. “It’s perfect. Do you mind if I keep this to show the art department?”

“Sure, go ahead,” Johnny agreed.

“Who knew we had another artist in the building?” Lilly enthused as she peered at Johnny’s drawing.

Johnny shrugged. “I’m not really an artist. I just do silly little drawings in my journal sometimes.”

“You have a journal?” Clara asked.

He could feel his face grow hot. That wasn’t something he usually told people about. “Well, I used to when I was younger,” he explained. “I haven’t written in it much lately.”

“Well, I think that’s cool!” Clara reassured him. “I like to journal, too. I never thought about drawing in mine, though.”

“Yeah, I think it’s attractive when guys are in touch with their feelings.” Lilly clasped her hands to her chest and smiled sweetly.

“You should pick up journaling again if it’s something you enjoy,” Lacey suggested.

“Maybe I will.” Johnny thanked them for their compliments.

He started to distribute the rest of the call sheets when Damien entered the room and requested everyone’s attention.

“I’m sorry to interrupt, but I just got out of a major meeting and there’s something I need to discuss with everyone.”

Everyone gathered around, murmuring to each other about what their boss might be getting ready to tell them.

“As of today, I'm no longer the CEO of Rainy Day Entertainment.”

Previous | Beginning of story | Beginning of chapter | Next

[fandom-lover2]

Deep In The Woods, Something Lingers In The Trees

Chapter Three - Like Tarzan and Jane Do

Word Count - 3509

Chapter Two - Stranger Not Like Me

Chapter Four - A Troop Of Two

I yawned for the umpteenth time, barely awake as I slip out the front door, the mass rush of three people leaving at once doing nothing to wake me.

My mom asked something, probably about if she needs to fetch me from school or not, but I don’t hear and just waved her off. My step-father’s car rumbled to life, and my mother locked the door behind her, rushing past me to get to the car.

I yawned again, my eyes leaking water and I somehow make it down the stairs, despite not even looking.

I need a full night’s sleep, and soon. Ever since meeting that chimp in the forest three days ago, my dreams have been plagued by nightmares.

Sometimes, I hear a noise from downstairs and follow it, finding the thing sitting on our couch as if he was human, flipping through TV channels. He turns, and charges to attack me before I have a chance to scream. Other’s, it’s already in my room, watching me sleep.

I can’t do it anymore, the constant feeling that it’s still there, still watching me.

My parents drive off in their car, heading to the city to begin another Tuesday.

Closing the gate behind me, I begin my trek down the road to the school bus point. I shiver, despite it being a mid-spring day, and bundle my jacket closer around me. I can feel it’s eyes now, it’s too human eyes. I walk down the street, head down and ignoring all the people I pass.

We moved here three weeks ago. I’d lived in San Francisco since I was 4, in a small apartment in the city. My mom met her boyfriend a couple years ago, him having just moved into our building. They decided to move in together 4 months ago, and this was where they chose. The suburbs.

 From what I could tell, the people here were nice enough, not that I’d spoken to any of them or even left my room much since we moved, other than to go to the forest.

Wasn’t ever doing that again.

Things at home weren’t bad, but they were hard. I never grew up with a father, having moved away from him when I was 2. Now, at 16, I was supposed to just accept there was now a man in the house. A man who didn’t care about my opinion, didn’t listen when I asked him to do something that would be considered considerate, a man who yelled and had temper tantrums like a 3 year old because the TV wasn’t working right.

My room was comfortable, had a nice view of the street, and had a stock pile of food. I only needed to see any of them when I went to the bathroom or in the mornings when we got ready for school and work. And then of course our Muir Woods drives, but those were done in silence anyway, a compromise we made to keep my mom happy.

Reaching the bus stop, I pulled out my phone and scrolled through social media, not in the mood to interact with other kids. Maybe today I might manage to get a nap in during free period.

-----

I didn’t manage to get a nap during free period, because I didn’t get a free period.

Some idiot decided it’d be a fun idea to put a smoke bomb in the bathrooms. So after three hours of standing outside the school after we were all evacuated and the building cleared by the cops and bomb squad, we had to endure a two hour assembly, majority of which was spent with us sitting in silence when no one willingly gave themselves up and the staff had to check the security cameras.

But hey, less classes meant less homework, even if we did leave school later than normal.

The setting sun filtered through the trees that lined our streets, the golden light mixing with the still relative quiet of the afternoon and giving off a sense of calm.

I breathed deeply. Reaching my house, I have no idea why but I had the urge to turn, to look to the neighbours across from us.

Normal house, just like our own. I had never seen anyone come or leave the house, but did occasionally see an old man sitting on one of the chairs on the porch when I got home from school. I looked up, to the beautiful window for the attic that was shaped as a four point star. I sometimes caught sight of it as I prepared for bed, seeing a light on as if someone lived up there, yet never seeing a soul.

This time however, it wasn’t empty, and my heart dropped to my feet as I saw a face staring back at me.

A familiar, not human face.

Seeing I had noticed him, the chimp began to jump up and down, beating on the glass as he opened his mouth.

I couldn’t hear him, but I could imagine the noise he was making. He could break the glass, I thought.

And that was my only thought. Somehow I managed to get my key into the door, my hands trembling like leaves as I did. I slammed the door shut, making sure to lock it. Then, I backed away from the door, as if it had followed me, was right on the other side trying to get the door down.

No way! No fucking way! This couldn’t be happening. That thing couldn’t be living right here, our neighour!

No wonder I could still feel its eyes, it was always just right there.

What if my dreams hadn’t been dreams, but disjointed memories from when I was awake? What if it was getting in my room at night, in my house?

I ran upstairs, tripping many times in my haste. In my room, I rushed to my window, checking it was locked and tugging the frame to see if it would budge. It didn’t, securely locked shut.

 I made the mistake of glancing up. The ape was still at his window, once again getting all excited that I was looking at him.

I yanked my curtains closed, stepping back from my window as if it was seconds away from being demolished. I stumbled into the hallway, sliding down the wall out of sight out my closed curtains.

I tried to take deep breaths, tried to calm my racing heart. I cursed the tears that fell down my cheeks. God, why was I crying like a pathetic toddler all because I’d seen a monster in the window. I needed to get my shit together.

Eventually, my body stopped shaking, my heart beat steadily, my cheeks dried. I was ok. There was no way for it to get in. I was safe. As long as I didn’t look at that stupid window, and never left the house when that front door opened, I would be safe.

------

I didn’t get more than an hours sleep each night for the rest of the week. Every creak of the house, every rattle of a tree branch in the wind, it was the chimp coming to get me.

Most mornings, I waited for the very last second before my parents left, then darted out with them and ran like hell was chasing me till I was at the bus stop. I opted to stay at school, waiting for them to fetch me so I wasn’t walking home alone.

I never once looked up at the window, despite now being able to hear when it pounded against the glass.

I was on edge constantly, jumping at every sound, always watching the windows and door. By Thursday, my mother noticed something was wrong, and on Friday morning her boyfriend surprised me by suggesting I stay home, saying I really didn’t look well enough for school.

Obliging, I had crawled back into bed, eyes locked on my curtains. They had stayed closed since Tuesday, and I’d rarely taken my eyes off them since.

I heard my parents leave, shutting the door behind them and heard the car drive off. Now I was alone. Completely and utterly alone.

Maybe this was what it was waiting for, no witnesses, no aid. Just me to die alone.

Crap, I should have gone to school.

I slipped from my bed, grabbing my laptop and opening my google tabs. My last three days of terror had led to me becoming an expert in chimpanzees. I researched every aspect of them, their behaviour. If I needed to find a way to win in a fight against them, I needed to know all I could.

With my research, I had found even more disturbing stories of pet chimps turning on their owners, gruesome tales of noses and ears being ripped off.

I was so right to fear it. And yet, no matter how much I searched, there was never once a record of a chimp being able to learn guitar. Or any musical instrument.

Yes, they had intelligence. They used tools in the wild, could be taught basic tricks at zoos and in circuses. But that level of intelligence, it hadn’t been recorded.

Something was different about that ape I met in the woods, something in way he’d seemed so much more human than the rest.

Not in looks, in the way he acted. He’d looked at me as if he understood things, as if watching an equal.

His eyes, that had been the most unsettling, because they had been so much like ours.

I clicked through my open tabs, rereading articles and wiki pages I’d read over before.

I couldn’t keep doing this, living in fear of what was going to happen next. 6 days since I met him, 3 since I found out he was living 10 feet from me, and nothing had changed. I couldn’t live like this. I needed to do something.

Rising from my desk, I marched out my room and rushed down the stairs. Grabbing my keys from the door, I left my house and bounded down the porch stairs.

Something needed to change.

I kept my eyes down, focused on the space ahead of me. I opened the gate, hounded up the stairs, and knocked on the door before my mind could catch up with what the hell I was doing.

‘Why the fuck am I knocking on their door!?’ I screamed to myself, my legs going weak as I heard movement inside the house.

‘Exposure therapy.’ somewhere inside me answered.

I didn’t have time to back out, because the front door opened, revealing a woman.

She was wearing scrubs, and seemed to be getting ready to head out the door herself. I froze, staring up at the woman.

“Hello.” she greeted, her Indian accent detectable.

“Can I help you?”

My legs almost buckled as I heard the familiar (part of my research included the sounds they made) screeching of the chimp as he hurried down from the attic.

“Caesar!” a man’s voice called after him, the same one from the woods.

The woman turned, partially closing the door as she stepped inside again. The chimp some panting sounds, mixed with some hooting, and then there was the sound of footsteps coming towards me and the door opened again, revealing the man. He seemed surprised to see me.

“You?” he started.

 “Hi. I live over there, and I saw him in the window the other day and I’m really scared of chimpanzees, actually all apes and monkeys, and anyway I’ve been really freaking out the last few days but I’ve finally reached my limit and decided that if I meet him then maybe I’ll stop being scared.” I sucked in a deep breath of air, having said all that in one go.

The two humans looked at me in shock, then glanced to one another.

“Come on in.” the man decided, stepping aside and opening the door further.

And there he was.

He was crouch down on all fours, looking at me as if I was the most amazing thing. He opened his mouth, again with the strange smile that was marred by his deathly teeth, as he grunted and panted.

I swallowed, forcing my mouth to stop being so dry, and unclenched my fists. My legs had locked up, so it took some convincing to get them to step forward into the house. With each step I took, the chimp got more and more excited.

A third human emerged behind the chimp, an elderly man with grey hair and glasses.

“Oh. Hello.” he greeted with a kind smile.

I didn’t take my eyes off the chimp to acknowledge him. I knew not to keep eye contact, but when our eyes met, I didn’t feel the need to look away, the all-encompassing fear that would come from locking eyes with this creature.

The chimp, sensing my hesitance, stopped moving around as much, stopped hopping up and down.

I stepped into their house, the chimp on one end of the hallway that led to the kitchen, and me a few paces from the exit. Behind me, I heard the woman say something, and then call out goodbyes to the people in the house, but I couldn’t move.

I stared at him, his black fur that looked coarse and soft at the same time, his face almost human coloured, yet nowhere near human shaped.

And his eyes. That’s why he’d been so different, so human. His eyes were green, rimmed by a bright ring of gold.

And they watched me, analyzed me, learned me.

Still crouched, the ape offered his hand as he had before, palm up. This time, he did not bow his head, keeping his eyes locked on mine.

I took a step forward, and then another, and then another. Finally, I was before him. We looked at one another, neither moving except for our chest rising and falling. My heart beat pounded in my ears, blood rushing throughout my body, making it feel hot despite me shivering.

My arm felt like lead as I slowly raised it, keeping my gaze on him, making sure he wouldn’t suddenly move to bite me. He stayed crouched, beneath me, looking up at me as I moved my shaking hand.

Taking a shaky breath, I dropped my palm to his own.

For starters, his hand was warm, a stark difference against my cold one. And so rough. I mean, his hand looked rough already, but it actually felt rough. Yet still so smooth and soft, like a human’s. In fact, it was so much like a human’s it was unnerving.

His fingers were more bulky than a human’s though, pads more rounded and finger’s themselves longer. It was like his finger’s had muscle, which they probably did since, you know, he climbs trees.

His hand was so much larger than a human’s though, palm wider and finger’s more spread out. Still, rough.

I watched our hands connect, marveling in the contrast of textures as I rubbed my hand against his own.

It was incredible.

My eyes flicked back to his face, finding an almost matching look of intrigue as we studied one another.

Slowly, so I understood what he was doing, the ape began to rise. Instincts made me want to step back, but he closed his hand around my own. Not harshly or firmly, gently holding my hand in his grasp, a reminder that I was safe, that I didn’t need to be afraid.

Before, when he was closer to the ground, I felt as though I had some control over our situation. Now, the ape stood as if human and he dwarfed me.

Not in size per say, but in aura. Granted, his eyes were a few inches taller than my own and his shoulders wider than my own, but all that meant nothing in the way he managed to command the attention of all in the room.

His eyes were still so inquisitive, but it was like he knew what effect he had, looking down at me as if waiting for me to do something. Still, his hulking form showed no sign of ill-intent.

Our hands, still connected, my tiny one wrapped up securely in his own. He wasn’t something to be scared of, something to fear. He was just like me, young and curious of the world around him, innocent and happy.

There was something in him, something that made him more than he appeared. Something that made him… not ape. He was amazing. I smiled up at him, and he smiled back. A human smile. “Hello Caesar.”

-----

At the mention of his name, Caesar opened his mouth further and did the ape-ish grinning again, dropping my hand and crouching on the ground. Then, he began into the house, making it a few steps of his apely walk before turning and rushing back to me, signing.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know sign.”

Caesar turned to the younger of the men then, repeating the signs while he grunted.

“No Caesar, she can’t.” he replied, coming to stand beside me.

I looked over to him.

“He wants to show you his room.” he explained.

Briefly my heart jumped in my throat. This was just supposed to be me getting over my fears, not a playdate.

“Oh, let the kids go.” the older man groused, stepping further into the hall to join us. “Caesar needs a friend anyway.”

 Hold up, I didn’t agree to this friend thing.

I looked down to Caesar again, and he was practically vibrating in an effort to stay still, once again holding out his hand for me to take. Who the hell was I kidding, the second I saw him as more than an ape I knew I would want to spent more time with him.

I slipped my hand into his own, and barely had a chance to say anything before he dragged me off further into his house.

“We’ll bring you some snacks!” the elder man called out as Caesar rushed me to a flight of twisted stairs, leading to the second floor of the house.

Once there, I found the staircase to the attic open and waiting. Caesar released my hand and went first, barely using the stairs as he swung up into his room. Then, he stuck his hand down, waiting for me.

I took the first three steps, then took his hand expecting him to just guide me. No, he used one hand to take my entire weight and pulled me up the rest of the way. One arm!

Did he know he was supposed to be showing me I shouldn’t be afraid of him?

His room was… as you’d expect for a toddler going into childhood.

It was clustered, toys and piles of books everywhere. The walls were painted blue, with cartoon baby animal wallpaper stuck to the wood in some places.

Everything was so vibrant and colourful, the carpets looking like a clown had thrown up on them. A piano sat tucked in one corner of the room, my guitar leant up against it. On a desk, three puzzles being built at once, each over 200 pieces, and a chess board. Secured to the beams above, at least four different types of climbing ropes or swings for him to use.

And he did just that, grabbing ahold of one to hoist himself over his bed and land at his window. He pointed out of it, then back to me, then the window again.

I followed him, mindful to step around piles of what was treasure to him but junk to me. When I got close, he pointed again and I looked out.

There, perfectly visible, my closed curtains.

“Yeah, that’s my house. My room.”

Caesar then turned to face me, and made a gesture with his hands. He repeated the gesture, then pointed across the street again.

I raised my hands, copying what he’d done. It was as if making a box with your hands.

Caesar nodded, then did the action again, and gestured around us. I knew it wasn’t the sign for home. “Room?” I guessed.

Caesar went crazy, hooting hysterically as he leapt off the bench beneath the window and rushed around the room, cheering as he went.

I laughed nervously as he crashed around. “I’m not entirely sure what is happening but ok.”

Caesar landed by me again, still very enthusiastic, and made the sign again. I copied once more, saying “room” as I did.

Caesar nodded, then looped off and came back holding a book. I sat at the bench, and he jumped up beside me. Placing the book down, he pointed to it, then made a gesture with his hands that mimicked opening a book.

“Book.” I spoke, doing the action with him.

He got elated again, jumping up and down before rushing off to find something else to show me.

 And holy shit, a chimpanzee was teaching me sign language.

[yupyor]

⋄ Jealousy, Jealousy ⋄

Summary - There's no denying that your boyfriend is the center of attention for many of folks in your school—being that he's the literal embodiment of the title Husband-Material. It doesn't help that your the complete opposite of his in-school persona, and that the majority of his fans see you two as unfit. So is it really a surprise when you get all cranky and possessive when the very people readily throw themselves at him the minute an opportunity is presented?

Chad is a jock. There is no doubt in that. Just not your typical one. Sure, they are some stereotypes that his role plays into, but aside from the burly build and his love for sports, he's genuinely not like the rest.

He's kind, understanding, and at times, patient—despite his need for action. It took you a while before you understood that. It was shameful, really, doing the exact thing that resulted in your low status at school. Judging a book by it's cover. You still remember the day he had walked up to you out of nowhere after seeing you in the back of the classroom by yourself.

The teacher had assigned an activity for two that was due coming end period. Naturally, everyone had flocked to him and you were once again left to do things solo. Unfortunately for you, this time that couldn't be the case. Your teacher had made it very clear that the work was to be done in pairs, and no less. Sometimes it felt personal, if your being honest. The way she would emphasize on the pairs, and the no less part, as if she was out for you.

Somewhere along your mindless inner chat, chad had manage to walk up next to you, his motion so far going unnoticed before settling down in the chair oppose to you. "Mind must be pretty wicked if your that caught up in your thoughts." He bemuse, and it is only then that your snapped back into reality and take in your surroundings. "This set taken?"

You still to this day can't believe his reason for abruptly reaching out, taking in the fact that that was far from the first time he had witness you in that particular situation. According to his close friend, the one and only School Jock had been keeping his crush on you in the depths of his heart, only managing to approach you after one of the many people in his friend group had threaten to do it themself, fed up with the "starry eyes" he would seemingly give you from afar.

Now he was standing before you with a smirk so sly it rivaled that of a cunning thief who've just spotted their next target. "Well now your just being dramatic, " he taunted, "they were just congratulating me."

"Yea, cause desperately shoving their blown cleavages in your face is exactly just that"

He laughs, watching you as he licks his lips and motions for the locker to the left of him. You watch quietly as he takes his sweat drenched shirt off and proceeds to grab a towel from the depths of the locker, throwing it over his shoulder before strutting up to you. "Your jealous?" he states more matter-of-factly than questionably, staring down directly at you. "Why are you jealous?"

You glare at him, though before you could get the chance to utter the ice cold words meant to accompany your severe look, he leans in, stopping just short of your left ear and partially resting his chin on your shoulder. "You'd think after yesterday night you'd get that your the only one always on my mind."

The blush he receives as a result only encourages his little act. He steps back, kissing you on the tip of your nose before sauntering his way to what you assume is the washroom, not forgetting to flash his signature grin before disappearing behind the room's door. "See you after school!"

[awriternamedart]

“He needs to be stopped.”

“Whadda want me to do about it?!”

“I dunno, but you gotta do something!!” Futaba whined, clinging to Ryuji sleeve. “He’s become a monster!”

They both glanced back to the middle of the room where Akira sat with Ann, Yusuke, and Makoto- all of them groaning in sync as Akira set down another eight- flushing out the cards with a smirk.

It was true- in terms of Tycoon, Akira had become scarily good. It was borderline terrifying, he seemed to know everyones tells- and showed no mercy to anyone. Anyone.

Akira placed down his final four cards, leaving the rest scrambling as he called a revolution. He proudly sat back, the title of Tycoon still sitting proudly with him- round 2 being yet another victory for him.

“See?? Cmon, Ryuji- you're like, the only one who can save us here!” As the rest finished off the round, Ryuji pulled his hand to the back of his neck, groaning.

“Cmon, ‘Taba, what can I even do?? Ya know well as I do that breakin ‘Kira outta a focus is a pain in the ass!” He bemoaned- besides, he had already had his own ass kicked multiple times in Tycoon, and not just by Akira. He showed no weakness to anyone, not even his best friend turned boyfriend.

“Which is why we catch him off guard.” The grin on Futaba’s face suddenly sharped, a wicked look that almost seemed to reflect Akira’s for a second. Ryuji felt a shiver shoot down his back- god no, there were two of them now.

“..whaddya mean by that.”

“What I mean is that we gotta do a major sneak attack on his ass. Ambush him just enough to throw him off his game and give literally anyone, mostly me, but anyone a chance to win! So heres the plan…” By now, their vicious whisper arguments had dragged some minor attention, but they both shut up as the final round ended, Akira once again being placed as the Tycoon.

“Ugh, no fair!” Ann whined, tossing her remaining cards onto the pile. “Begger is not fun at all.”

Makoto just sighed, pushing the hair from her face.

“You are seriously too good at this game.”

“Indeed. It's really quite impressive- a display of passion.” Yusuke may have ended up the Poor, but it was better than his usual beggar. He much rather would build a house of the cards, besides. “Exquisite display as always, Akira.”

“Who’s next then?” His grey eyes darted around the room, landing on where Futaba and Ryuji were still huddled up in the corner, their whispered argument having come to a halt. In a few seconds, Futaba bounced up, exclaiming that her turn was next, and that she was gonna take Akira down.

“I have a secret weapon~!” She proclaimed with her whole chest, hands on her hips- glasses falling slightly askew. “You stand no chance, Kurusu!!”

“If you say so.” Without fail, he met her challenge, shuffling the deck with ease as she plopped herself on his left. “What about you, Ryuji?”

“Nah, man- I've had enough of gettin my ass kicked.” With a slight chuckle, Ryuji lifted himself from the little corner alcove, grabbin the chair to sit on it. Morgana leapt from his sunbathing spot, exclaiming that he wanted to play- though no one was quite sure how that would work until Haru offered to hold his cards for him.

The final spot was taken by Makoto again, her fiery desire to take the crown from Akira once and for all still shining bright.

And so, the round began yet again, Futaba starting them off. It was an average round, Akira quickly taking control of the turns to get as many cards down as he could. It was fascinating to watch, the ease in which he took everyones attacks into stride- quickly twisting them to his advantage. In a card game of all places, Akira’s abilities truly shone.

Not like Akira had gotten a great hand, either- Ryuji peered over his shoulder, grimacing slightly at the cards Akira held. Not a great start, but Akira made it look effortlessly easy- manipulating the cards just right to force others to place their highest cards.

And when Akira pulled a stop to the round that looked like Morgana could take by slamming down his three of spades- they all collectively groaned, knowing this round was over.

“You are too good.” Makoto sighed as she took Rich, placing her final card she had been holding for far too long. Morgana-Haru duo took Beggar, and Futaba placed Poor, making her grumble as she hid her face in her knees- eyes narrowly taking in the sight before her.

“About that secret weapon, ‘Taba-”

She shot Akira a glare, making him laugh a bit as he finished shuffling. He handed the deck to Haru, letting her deal the stacks, customary of beggar.

“Just you wait. Your goin down, pretty boy.”

“You think I'm pretty?”

“Ugh, gross!”

The entire team had to hide a laugh as Akira faked a pout, Futaba just sticking out her tongue at him. Both took their hands from Haru, who was still giggling a little before she began to organize Morgana’s hand for him.

Ryuji’s leg started bouncin.

As Morgana began the round, he could feel his cheeks light up, not failing to notice the sideways looks Futaba was giving him. They had a deal, he couldn’t back out now- besides, it would be nice to see literally anyone win other than Akira. Sure, he was datin the guy- but other people deserved at least a chance, right? Thats what the Phantom Thieves did, gave the chance to the good people in the world.

So about halfway through the round, Futaba whined out an elongated version of Akira’s name- the signal.

Red flooded his neck and cheeks as he meandered up from where he sat, rubbing the short hairs on the back of his neck. Ugh, was he really goin through with this.. ?

Akira looked back, Ryuji comin up directly behind him.

“Yuji? Whats wrong?”

“Nothin, man.” Miraculously, he managed to keep his voice even, lips twisting into a scowl as Futaba snickered. Tiny gremlin.

“Oh, then, let me finish-”

He didnt get a chance to turn back to the game, Ryuji leaning over his shoulder and catching him off guard. Akira’s eyes widened as his glasses were knocked askew, the entire team going dead silent as Ryuji pulled back from placing the kiss on Akira’s lips.

“Im uh- Im gonna go grab some more snacks. Ill be back.” Despite the red on his face, Ryuji barely managed to play it off, a shaky shark grin dancing on his face as he got back up. It didnt take much for him to skid down the stairs- stealing a glance at Akira as he dashed down.

His glasses were still askew, eyes open in what could only be described as shock.

By the time he was down the stairs, he kinda lamented not looking longer- was his face pink, or red maybe? He was pale as eff, so Ryuji’s bet was on red- just how red was what he didn't quite know.

He idly shifted through the fridge, right- snacks. Where had..

Luckily, Boss had shut down the cafe for the night hours ago. They had all been lingering, since Akira was on room lock right now. Still had people thinkin he was as dead as could be.

“You’re mean.”

Looking up from where he had his head practically buried in his backpack, Ryuji felt a grin on his face grow upon seeing Akira at the base of the stairs. Mussed up black hair n all, glasses discarded who knows where- and pink rouge still lingering in his cheeks.

“Sorry, man- Futaba offered me a good deal on an exclusive manga she got her hands on.” He chuckled, rubbing the back of his head. God, he needed a haircut. “Didja win?”

“..no.” Rolling his eyes, Akira finally stepped onto the cafe floor, leaning on the bar. “The secret weapon worked.”

He got a laugh at that, before tugging out a pack of salty snacks he had and tossing them at Akira’s chest.

“Sorry, dude- someone had to humble you eventually.”

“Oh, cause my ego is practically soaring above yours.” He snorted, catching the pack and easily tearing open the side. “How mean of you to absolutely crush it like its nothing.”

“Hey! If ya wanna blame someone, blame the gremlin!”

“But my beloved boyfriend betrayed me.”

Ryuji just rolled his eyes, but there wasn’t a bone in his body that could retort to that, face lighting on fire as he tried to laugh it off.

“Cmon, man- yknow I wouldn't do that.”

“...Yeah, I know.” The sudden softness in Akira’s voice made Ryuji’s head dart up, surprise dancing across his tan face.

It was quickly clouded up by black hair, that damned, piercing stare looking at him as a quick kiss was pressed to his lips again, red splotches immediately growing across his neck and cheeks- but he wasted no time in returning the favor, rolling his eyes as he felt Akira snicker. Bastard.

-

The Secret Weapon- Your Brother's Boyfriend

awriternamedart

[shewasverynice]

Fandoms: 呪術廻戦 | Jujutsu Kaisen 

⚠️ SPOILER HEAVY ⚠️

Major Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death 

Full tags/warnings on Chapter links post

Major Characters: Original Character, Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru, Ieiri Shoko, Yaga Masamichi, Nanami Kento, Haibara Yu, Tsukumo Yuki, Choso

‎‧₊˚✧ Chapter 34 ✧˚₊‧

"Ladies," Satoru said smoothly, throwing his long arms around the shoulders of two miko. The girls jumped in surprise and he pulled one girl closer, only so he could push up his sunglasses and flash those impossible blues at them both.

"S-sir you can't just—" one stammered.

"Shh, shh, nah honey let's talk," he shushed her, fluttering his eyelashes, "I got some questions for you two, alright? You'll answer them, won't you?"

"Oh, a-about the temple?" The second girl squeaked. One of her hands hand landed on her cheek and she could barely look up at him as he led the two of them away from the entrance to the women's quarters.

Yuki, who was waiting nearby and getting extremely tired of "examining the rustic architecture", sighed as soon as they were out of the way. She flipped her hair over her shoulder and confidently strode directly into the building, heading straight towards the first door she could find.

It was a storage closet. The next was as well, filled with various bells and symbolic trinkets and some of the sacred cups for drinking sake at various rituals. Following that we're the changing rooms and break rooms she expected to find, but none of them contained anything that felt real to her.

She gritted her teeth and swatted at one of the outfits, closing the closet behind her. She turned, placing a hand on her hip as she glanced around the room. If this was where the girls were getting ready for their rituals they must have the real thing somewhere nearby.

"Secret door maybe?" she mumbled, turning to run her fingers along the wall. She narrowed her eyes, doing the same on the floor with the toes of her shoes. But when nothing came up she groaned, rubbing both her temples with her fingertips. "Annoying," she grumbled, starting her search once again.

Finally her search bore fruit and her fingertips caught on the edge of something on the back wall of a wardrobe. She tapped it lightly before pushing a little harder, the inside wall pushing back out on a spring hinge. Pulling it fully open slowly, she grinned when she spotted the dark set of stairs ahead.

"Always a secret basement," she chuckled as she stepped through, taking her steps cautiously in the dark.

When she finally reached the bottom the corridor opened up into a relatively plain stone room lined with rows of racks for hanging clothes. They were divided by types, sorting by the ranking of the official who would likely be wearing it and seemingly also sorted by size. Touching the fabric slightly she could already feel the hum of energy running through it and she smirked to herself as she picked out a few different pieces and hung them over her arm.

She turned back towards the stairs, but she already felt on edge. This was far too easy. There really wasn't anything down here in place to keep these things protected? Not even something as simple as a mundane trap or a regular security camera? That didn't sit right. In every other scenario it felt like the positive energy users were better hidden than this.

"Outta time let's go!" Satoru suddenly shouted down the stairs.

She sighed, snatching up a few more pieces before she rushed towards the stairs. "What did you do?" she called up, only for her voice to catch in her throat. A burst of hot air blew the hair off her neck and after a moment a second fanned over her skin. She felt a chill down her spine when she realized whatever it was behind her was breathing on her neck.

In a split second, she jumped up as many stairs as her legs could reach as a huge white paw crashed into the wood just where she'd been standing. Gritting her teeth she rushed up towards Satoru who grabbed her as soon as he could reach and yanked her hard. She landed beside him and felt the draft of another slam just as he stepped in front to block it with limitless.

Satoru whistled as he followed behind Yuki. "Damn! That's a big ass cat!" he shouted to her over the chaos at the creature smashed its way through the wardrobe and into the building.

"Cat?" Yuki glanced back finally, getting a look at the thing.

A deafening crash filled the hall as splinters rained down around them. Emerging from the dust and rubble was a massive lion, it's fur as white as freshly fallen snow. Its golden eyes glowed like molten metal, locking onto the intruders with the fiery intensity of its rage. The creature's low grunts rolled through the hall like distant thunder, vibrating deep in her chest. Every step it took cracked the wood beneath it's paws, the floor splintering under its enormous weight.

Satoru shoved Yuki aside just as the lion surged forward. Its roar erupted like an explosion, the sound so loud and primal that both she and Satoru wince and stumbled, clutching at their ears.

The beast pounced. Two massive paws slammed down inches from they had been standing, carving deep gouges into the wood and the stone foundation beneath. The force of the impact sent shards of wood flying as the lion's momentum carried it forward, its body smashing through the far wall. Sunlight poured in through the hole it left behind, illuminating the swirling chaos of dust and debris.

Hearts pounding, they scrambled for the exit, feet slipping on the uneven ground. But the lion wasn’t done. With a roar that shook the building to its foundations, it leapt back into the fray, white fur gleaming and golden eyes aflame. It moved with terrifying speed, its claws raking through the air as it pursued them.

They burst through the temple doors into the open courtyard. Behind them, the lion’s massive body collided with the roof above, shattering tiles and sending splinters of wood raining down. The force of the impact tore the roof apart, pieces of it scattering like leaves in a storm as the creature surged after them.

For a moment, everything was chaos: the lion’s thrashing limbs, the splintered remnants of the temple, the golden sunlight gleaming off its pristine fur. Then it landed, crouched low, muscles coiled like springs, ready to strike again.

"Kill it or, nah?" Satoru asked, grinning at Yuki.

"No, leave it," she called to him, moving past, "If we kill their guardian they'll have nothing to keep the curses away."

The lion trembled mid-stride, its massive form faltering for the first time. A low, guttural growl escaped its throat, but this time it wasn’t anger—it was something else, something unnatural. A crackling sound filled the air, like lightning splitting the sky, and suddenly two enormous, radiant wings burst from the creature’s back. Feathers of light, impossibly bright and shimmering, unfurled and stretched wide, their glow casting long, eerie shadows across the courtyard.

Satoru slowed his pace just enough to glance at Yuki, one eyebrow raised in curious amusement. "You didn’t mention the part about wings."

She huffed, her focus still on the beast as they kept running. "Don’t touch it, Satoru! I mean it."

"Fine," he said, though his grin hinted at mischief.

The lion let out a bone-rattling roar, launching itself into the air with a powerful beat of its wings. It soared after them, an angelic terror streaking through the sky. Dust whirled around as its shadow engulfed them, golden eyes locked on its quarry.

Satoru skidded to a halt in front of a cluster of priests who had gathered near the temple gates. "Move!" he barked, stepping forward with arms spread as if to shield them.

The lion descended with terrifying precision, jaws wide, its teeth glinting like blades. But instead of mindlessly crashing into him, it slowed just enough to snap at him, testing his defenses. Satoru’s eyes widened for a fraction of a second, his usual confidence cracking.

"Interesting," he muttered, raising a hand as his Limitless technique activated. The shimmering barrier between them pulsed, holding the creature back—barely. The lion’s golden eyes flared with an eerie intelligence, its momentum pressing against his technique, straining it like nothing he’d encountered before.

"You're tougher than you look," Satoru said with a grin, though sweat beaded at his temple. He twisted his wrist, redirecting the beast’s force to shove it back, but the effort took more out of him than he’d anticipated.

"Gojo!" Yuki’s voice cut through the chaos.

She darted beneath the lion, sliding on her side with practiced precision. Her technique flared, visible for a brief moment as her legs shimmered with increased density. With a sharp inhale, she planted both feet under the lion and kicked upward with explosive force.

The impact sent the beast hurtling backward, its wings flaring to steady itself as it crashed into a nearby torii gate. The structure crumbled around it, but it was already recovering, shaking off the wood like dust from its fur.

Before the lion could leap again, Satoru appeared beside Yuki in an instant, scooping her up with one arm as he dashed for the temple gates. He set her on her feet the moment they crossed into the forest beyond, both of them breaking into a full sprint.

"You really didn’t want me to touch it, huh?" he said, breathless but still grinning.

"Shut up and keep running," Yuki snapped, glancing over her shoulder.

Behind them, the lion roared once more, its golden eyes blazing as it took to the skies again. The temple grounds crumbled in its wake, but something about the way it moved now was deliberate, almost calculated.

"We’re not done with this thing yet," Satoru muttered, his gaze flicking up to the glowing figure in the sky.

"Not even close," Yuki replied grimly.

For what felt like hours it pursued them, relentlessly tearing through the trees or flying overhead searching with it's blazing golden gaze. Not even for a moment did it hesitate whenever it got close enough to take a swipe or a bite, it's tail and wings thrashing with anger. It's white fur shimmered with golden light and it seemed to have an unnatural sense of where they were heading.

"We're gonna have to do something about it," Satoru called, "I don't think it's going to let up!"

"Shit," Yuki spat, "We've already done too much. There's no way this is going unnoticed."

"So let me take it out!" Satoru shouted.

"No! Just knock it out or something!" Yuki cried, "Just don't kill it!"

The dense forest around them was alive with the sounds of their desperate escape—branches snapping underfoot, leaves whipping past, and the relentless roar of the lion closing in above. Satoru came to an abrupt stop in a clearing, turning to face the glowing beast as it descended like a divine judgment. The beast’s golden eyes locked onto him, and it let out a low growl that made the ground tremble. Its glowing wings spread wide, their radiance bathing the forest in a harsh, almost holy light.

Satoru cracked his neck, rolling his shoulders. He grinned at the beast as he removed his sunglasses, hanging them off his shirt as he waited for its first move.

The lion lunged, a blur of white fur and shining feathers. Satoru ducked under a massive paw, the claws raking through the air inches above his head. He retaliated with a palm strike to its side, but the impact was muted—its positive energy clashed with his cursed energy, negating the force of the blow.

"Tch." He clicked his tongue, sidestepping as the lion spun with alarming agility, its jaws snapping at his midsection.

It was fast—and more annoyingly, it was relentless. Each strike forced Satoru to rely more on his physical skill than his cursed energy. He’d already learned the hard way that his techniques faltered against the creature’s radiant power with that first attempt at using limitless.

He leapt onto a low branch, narrowly avoiding another swipe. The lion roared, its wings beating once to propel it upward. Satoru sprang off the branch just as the beast tore through it, landing in a crouch as splinters rained down.

“You’re not just strong, huh?” Satoru said, smirking despite the sweat on his brow. “You’re smart, too. This might actually be fun.”

The lion’s golden eyes flared as if in response, and it surged forward again. Satoru met it head-on, weaving between its strikes with precision born of years of combat. He drove his elbow into its shoulder, followed by a kick to its ribs, each blow landing with satisfying force.

But the lion didn’t slow. It twisted mid-attack, its massive wing catching him off-guard and slamming him into a nearby tree. The impact sent a jolt of pain through his back, but he didn’t let it show.

"Alright, kitty," he muttered, shaking out his arms. "You want to play rough? Fine."

The next time it lunged, he met it with a spinning kick, his heel connecting with its jaw. The lion staggered, but Satoru didn’t stop. He followed up with a flurry of punches, each one aimed at vulnerable spots—the eyes, the neck, the skull.

Finally, he saw his opening. The lion reared back to swipe at him, exposing the underside of its head. With a burst of speed, Satoru leapt up, twisting mid-air, and drove his foot into the side of the lion’s skull.

The force of the kick sent the creature crashing to the ground, its wings folding as it lay still, its massive chest rising and falling with labored breaths.

Satoru landed lightly, brushing a bit of dust from his shirt. “Stay down,” he muttered, though his tone carried more respect than mockery.

Yuki emerged from the shadows of the trees, her expression unreadable. He gave her a quick nod.

“Let’s move before it wakes up,” he said.

She didn’t argue, falling into step beside him as they disappeared into the forest once more. Behind them, the clearing was silent, save for the faint sound of the lion’s breathing.

"What now?" Satoru asked once they'd gained more distance, "How far do you think we need to go before we can circle back?"

"You feeling impatient?" Yuki teased, grinning at him.

"I'm always impatient," Satoru scoffed, "Everyone moves so damn slow."

"Well, get used to it," Yuki mumbled, "We'll need to take the long way around for a while and keep ourselves on the move. I was hoping to only alert a few guards not kick the whole wasp nest."

"Didn't expect a winged lion," Satoru said, glancing back towards where he'd fought the beast. "You seen anything like that before?"

"Can't say that I have, but I've heard stories," Yuki chuckled, "Lots of different 'holy' type creatures are in all their fancy books. Bulls and doves and eagles and stuff, you know. Guess we just got unlucky and ran into a big boy."

"But why a lion?" Satoru pondered, "Lions are kind of a big deal in Buddism, so what's a minor Shinto temple doing with a big ass white lion as a guardian?"

Yuki's brow furrowed. "Actually that's a good point," she mumbled, adjusting the pile of clothes on her arm. She glanced back at where they'd left the lion behind as well, then looked ahead again with her eyes narrowed. "They're probably hiding something," she suggested, "Maybe they've got their own little positive user hidden in there somewhere. I wouldn't be surprised if they did."

"Should we go back?" Satoru asked, "Maybe we could see if they need—"

"No," Yuki cut him off, "As much as I'd love to go on a random rescue mission, we don't know the situation at all. The user may not be in trouble, for one, and we already have our hands full with Sarah. Bringing in a second wouldn't be worth the trouble."

Satoru didn't answer. Yuki glanced over at him and smiled, shaking her head with a sigh. "Alright, how about this? We'll check it out again after we've released Sarah's vow, alright? We'll do a little wellness check. Think you can wait until then before adopting another stray?"

Satoru smiled. "Sure, yeah we can do that."

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

Haibara jumped around behind a tree, ducking low just as the reach of the wooden tendrils tore through the trunk just above his head. He shuddered, still trying to catch his breath as he sprinted away with Nanami skidding to his side as he dodged an attack aimed at him as well.

"I've never seen curses like this!" Nanami gritted, spinning back to swing his ax at the reaching tendrils, cracking off sharp branches that tore at their clothes.

The creatures scrambled through the underbrush as if it was only an extension of their twisted little bodies. Skin that was gnarled like wood dissapeared into the twigs and leaves scattered around with only their glowing eyes to alert the boys of their presences. They chirped and squeaked like saplings bending in the wind and long reaching tendrils endlessly reached for them.

"I don't think these are curses!" Haibara panted, snapping a branch headed right for Nanami's head. "I think these are the things Gojo mentioned! The spirits? Like the flower one he talked about!"

"If that's the case," Nanami huffed, "Then we need to get back to the temple as quickly as possible. The barrier should keep them at bay!"

The two of the scrambled through until the temple was in sight and Haibara shouted, "Hey! Hurry!"

A pair of hands shot out quickly from the wall and Haibara and Nanami grasped on quickly before Sarah and Suguru yanked them inside. They panted, collapsing onto the stone floor. Suguru watched them only for a moment before he glanced up above them.

"More of those things, right?" he asked, "We've been watching them."

"There's so many!" Sarah informed them, "We heard them when they showed up but now… well, look!"

She pointed up above and Haibara and Nanami both gasped.

The top of the dome was beginning to overgrow with vines. The creatures huddled together atop the barrier and extended their long tendrils, blocking out the light and everything in sight.

"No way," Haibara muttered, "What… what are we gonna do?"

"We may have to exorcise them," Suguru assessed, crossing his arms and scowling at the creatures above as they writhed and hummed. "But I don't want to be to hasty. If we catch too much attention we'll have a bigger problem on our hands."

"Couldn't you just absorb them?" Nanami suggested, holding his hand out for Haibara and helping the other boy stand as he himself got up. "I know if they're below a certain range of power it's nearly instantaneous for you."

"Yes, that is true," Suguru nodded, "But these are stronger than they appear. That, or they're only pieces of a larger whole."

"What if I did my thing?" Sarah mentioned, stepping closer to the barrier as it slowly closed off more and more with vines, "Maybe I could talk to them? They seem like they're upset with us."

"Is it because we cut down the trees?!" Haibara gasped, "What if we did too much?!"

"No, I would think they would have done this much sooner if that were true," Suguru said, shaking his head, "We cut down so much more when we were rebuilding."

"This must be why this place was abandoned," Nanami suggested, "If it was constantly being swarmed like this they would surely move it further away."

"All the more reason for me to talk to them," Sarah said, stepping closer to the barrier. It was almost completely covered by this point and soon enough it would be pitch dark inside the dome.

"I'm not sure that's the best plan," Nanami said, "What if using your energy only upsets them further?"

"I agree with Nanami," Suguru nodded, "We don't know what may happen if something else catches on to you. We may get rid of this problem and create an even bigger one."

"But we can't do nothing," Sarah scoffed, crossing her arms, "What are we going to do, just let them close us in? That's stupid."

"It's not stupid, we must be cautious or—"

"Nanami, c'mon really?" Sarah sighed. She looked at the three of them before she shook her head, her fists balling at her sides. "Once Gojo shows up he'll just blow them up anyway. We might as well try my way before we give up and let ourselves get locked in."

Haibara shook his head, "C'mon Sarah, don't do this. We can just wait until—"

She took a dive for the wall and all three of the boys reached for her. Only Haibara, who'd been the closest to her, managed to grasp onto her ankle only for her to wiggle out of her shoe and pull her foot through just as the barrier closed off.

"Shit!" Suguru cried out, "Stupid! We need to go after her!"

"We can't!" Haibara shouted, trying desperately to pull up on the branches that now were pushing into the stone floor. "I can't! It—it's too strong!"

Nanami rushed to Haibara's side, pulling with all his strength but he was forced to back off just before it closed around his fingers. The boys were shrouded in complete darkness as the vine choked out all of the light and the only sounds were their own labored breaths.

Suguru punched the wall, swearing under his breath. "Shit," he mumbled, "We just— we have to! We have to go out there!"

Nanami was already on the move, sprinting for the main temple building. "I'll take down the barrier! Be ready to run!" he shouted.

But suddenly shafts of light began to appear from above. Haibara pressed against the barrier, watching as the branches slowly retracted. He saw her in the distance. She was shouting over her shoulder and the curses seemed to be taking the bait.

"Sarah!" Haibara shouted, tearing at the wood and shoving his shoulder hard into it trying to tear though. Suguru slammed next to him, cracking the wall further and the two of them stumbled out into the light once again.

"Stop!" Suguru shouted, "Don't be stupid!"

"I can do this!" Sarah shouted over the scrambling frantic sounds of the curses. They swarmed after her, tearing through the ground and each other. The curses behind her shrieked with inhuman voices, their cries echoing like nails dragged across glass. Wooden tendrils reached for her like fingers of the dead, snagging her shirt and tearing at her arms, but she pressed on, gritting her teeth against the sting of her wounds as they healed themselves almost instantly.

Her heart pounded in her chest, each beat urging her legs forward. She didn’t dare look back. She knew what she’d see: the twisted forms of the curses, amalgamations of jagged bark and writhing roots, their eyeless faces locked onto her scent. Her lungs burned, her breath coming in ragged gasps, but slowing down wasn’t an option. Sarah darted between trees, her hands brushing against rough bark as she used them to propel herself forward. She ducked under low-hanging branches, her hair catching in the leaves, and leapt over thick roots that jutted from the ground like gnarled bones. The curses followed relentlessly, their movements a cacophony of snapping wood and rustling leaves. Her foot caught on a vine, and she nearly fell, but she caught herself, glancing briefly down at her bleeding palms before they healed over. The adrenaline drowned out the pain, her only focus the path ahead—a narrow gap between two towering oaks. She pushed through it, feeling the splintering scrape of bark against her shoulders. The ground began to slope downward, the trees thinning. She didn’t slow, even as her feet skidded on loose dirt and dry leaves. Then, the ground gave way entirely, and she slid, tumbling into a dry riverbed. Rocks and debris tore at her legs as she fell, and when she hit the bottom, the impact knocked the breath from her lungs. She gasped, her vision swimming as she scrambled to her feet, her knees threatening to buckle beneath her. Above, the curses loomed at the edge of the ravine, their forms silhouetted against the night sky. For a moment, they seemed hesitant, their tendrils twitching as if testing the air. Sarah’s chest heaved as she backed away, her shoes crunching on the dry, cracked earth. She searched desperately for an escape, her eyes darting to the shadows around her. One of the curses tipped forward, its wooden limbs creaking as it slid down into the riverbed after her. The others followed, their movements jagged and unnatural. Sarah’s stomach twisted with dread. She spun on her heel and ran again, her feet slipping on loose stones as the walls of the riverbed rose around her. The path narrowed, the walls closing in until she was forced to squeeze through a tight gap between jagged rocks. Her shoulders scraped against the stone, and she felt a fresh sting as a tendril lashed out, catching her side. She bit back a scream, clamping a hand over the wound as she stumbled forward. The curses screeched, furious and hungry, but the narrow gap slowed them, their larger forms struggling to squeeze through. She emerged on the other side, her chest heaving with exhaustion, but she didn’t stop. She couldn’t. The curses were relentless, and if she didn’t keep moving, they would drag her back to their lair. Back to whatever horrifying fate awaited her there. Ahead, the riverbed opened into a small clearing. At its center stood a single, ancient tree, its roots twisting into the earth like the veins of the forest itself. Its presence was different from anything she'd seen yet—calm, protective, and powerful. Desperation flared in Sarah’s chest as she made her way toward it, collapsing at its base. The curses spilled into the clearing, their forms hesitating as they neared the tree. They shrieked, their wooden bodies trembling as if repelled by an unseen force. The air around the tree seemed to hum, a gentle vibration that resonated in Sarah’s chest. She pressed her hands to the roots, her voice a whisper. “Please… forgive us.” The tree answered. Its roots began to move, shifting and curling around her like a shield. The curses howled in rage, their tendrils lashing out, but the tree’s branches swayed, and a wave of energy pulsed through the clearing. The curses recoiled, their forms splintering as the force pushed them back, farther and farther, until they were swallowed by the forest’s darkness. Sarah collapsed against the tree, her body trembling as the adrenaline began to fade. The roots loosened their hold, cradling her gently as the forest once again grew quiet. She was safe at last.

Suguru, Nanami, and Haibara arrived moments later, out of breath and covered in wounds. Suguru held up his arms, blocking them from approaching the tree as soon as he spotted Sarah among the roots.

She sat up and nodded to him and he nodded back, the three of them stepping further away.

"It's angry," she whispered, "But it accepted my apology for now."

Suguru nodded again, then looked at Nanami and Haibara. The three of them slowly began to approach as carefully and reverently as possible. The tension in the air was practically physically choking, but still they moved forward.

"I… I'm sorry tree," Haibara said awkwardly, "Did we cut down too much?"

Sarah smiled at him, then looked up at the tree. "I think it's upset that we haven't visited," she explained. "I think people must have thanked the forest spirits in the past but it's been a long time since it's seen humans."

Nanami glanced at Suguru, the approached the tree cautiously. Suguru followed him and the two of them gave their own quiet apologies. As they spoke, it was as if the forest itself was letting go and the tension began to fade.

Sarah sighed with relief, wiping the sweat off her brow. "We can leave for now," she said quietly, "It's calm enough."

The walk back was quiet, none of them sure what to say. Eventually Haibara piped up and cheerfully said, "Well I guess we should have a festival for it!"

Sarah laughed, Nanami and Suguru unable to resist a chuckle too. "Yeah, that sounds like fun doesn't it?" She agreed, "Once everyone else gets back we can make a day of it."

"I suppose I shouldn't be surprised that this forest has spirits," Nanami sighed. He glanced back at the clearing for a moment, considering the sight of the ancient tree. "I didn't believe that anything but curses existed," he admitted, "It seems like something directly out of a fantasy."

"It's just like Totoro!" Haibara chirped happily.

"I suppose it is," Suguru agreed with a smile, "We'll leave it offerings more often and we should give it thanks every time we go for firewood."

The conversation trailed off as they walked back through to the temple, but as soon as they were within the barrier once again Sarah loudly cleared her throat. The three boys stared at her and she put her hands on her hips, looking down her nose at them with a smug grin.

"Don't you have something to say to me?" She asked, tilting her head, "Something about how cool that was? Yeah? Maybe, I dunno, an apology?"

Suguru rolled his eyes, but then smiled at her. "You did really well," he relented, "I'm sorry I didn't trust you."

"Yeah," Haibara grinned as he threw his arms around her, "That was so cool! I can't believe you just went for it like that!"

"It was reckless," Nanami mumbled, but even he nodded in approval when he said, "But it was impressive. I apologize for doubting you."

"Alright then," Sarah said with a sniff. She glanced at the three of them awkwardly then asked, "So… I guess we gotta go figure out where you two left the wood sleds?"

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Taglist: @inthedarkshadows000

[anonymousauthorsblog]

TURNING PASSIONS

chapter 2 • statistics and friends

*please note that there is writing in this chapter*

lowercase intended

Tek it - cafuné

•.•.•.••.•.•.••.•.•.••.•.•.••.•.•.••.•.•.••.•.•.••.•.•.•

megumis pov (3rd person)

Megumi groans as the loud sound of his alarm blasts through the room. He tiredly opens his eyes and rolls over to the other side of his bed. He hums as he’s greeted by silence in his dorm, something unusual and not always expected with his two friends living there too. He looks at the time to see he has about one hour and an half before he has his first lecture of the day. Luckily for him megumi didn’t jam pack his tuesdays or thursdays with classes and only had two classes on those days, statistics and his media class. For megumi those were the easier classes as he was seen as a prodigy in any mathematic field. He slowly makes his way out of bed to shower as he didn’t have time to yesterday night due to Yuji keeping him up ranting excitingly about the new collaboration happening tonight- something he didn’t really pay attention to. As he gets ready for his day taking his shower and changing into something comfortable for his lectures his friend suddenly ruins his peace as Yuji enters the dorm. “Megumi ready for the biggest collaboration the world has seen before” he says as he’s dramatizing his movements. Megumi rolls his eyes as he replies back with a sigh “yeah whatever i guess” with this he starts to pack up his things and heads towards the door to his dorm leaving to his class a bit earlier than he wanted saying his goodbyes to his friend that is still jumping up and down waiting for the stream that is bound to happen later.

y/n pov (3rd person)

Y/n’s alarm rings for the third time this morning, with this one being named “get up now or else you’ll be late for class!!”, she quickly shuts off her alarm in respect of her other friends sleep- not letting it ring longer than it needs to. Y/n has been up since 6 in the morning- cracking, gluing, cutting the back of her new pointe shoes as she needs them to be perfect before her first formal dance class today. She tries them on once again to mold the shape of her feet into the boxes of these painful shoes. She quickly gets interrupted by Maki walking into the living rooms starting her day. “mornin” maki yawns, grabbing eggs to make a quick snack before she has to go off to her classes of the day. “morning” y/n replies back as she checks her phone running as she realizes that if she doesn’t get up now she’s going to be late for her starting classes. With that y/n quickly runs to her room as she changes and grabs her backpack for class and an addition her ballet bag. She runs pass to quickly put on her shoes and yelps a quick goodbye as she dashes through the door to make it to the campus, as she makes her way to the worst class of the year. statistics. Y/n walks into the building as she barely makes it on time, she puts her head down as she walks into the classroom to see majority of the students already there and some of them glaring at her as she walks in. she then finds an empty seat in the corner of the room and sighs from embarrassment. With lack of time to set up and prepare for anything the professor starts the lesson. Y/n sits and tries to attempt to pay attention as she wonders off, with two more classes for her day she’ll finally be in the stage where she belongs. The professor seems to talk for ages with a monotonous tone and writes numbers on the board that seem to glaze right through her. Finally the lesson ended as y/n makes it to the rest of her classes, finally paying attention in them. The day slowly goes by until it’s time to go to her final class, dance. When seeing the studio doors she walks in and immediately goes for the dressing room. She changes into her ballet attire, she pins her hair and slicks it as tight as it can be and starts to stretch before putting on her pointe shoes. Y/n starts to breathe and looks around wanting to make a good first impression. In the room everyone seems to be in their own world- the same as she’s doing trying to mentally prepare herself for this new chapter. She feels the moment sweep beneath her as now she is ready to compete for the top spot at once of the best dance universities there is.

megumis pov (3rd person)

Megumi finds a seat in the middle of the classroom, he is 15 minutes early with time to spare. With this he goes straight for his phone to keep him company as time passes by and more students seem to join him. As he starts to get his notebook and things out for this statistics class he looks up to see that there’s one minute left. As he’s looking up to see the time before his first class of the day starts he sees a girl running in, he scoffs as he finds it more entertaining to see people rushing just for a class. The professor then takes the stage of the classroom and starts his lesson, megumi continues to be attentive as this lesson is a breeze for him. After class is dismissed he settles in for the next class- understanding the content of that lesson too, finally ending his day of his college chronicles. He begins to walk back to his dorm wanting to settle down before having to stream later that day- he walks slowly not finding any reason to rush as he finally makes his way up to his dorm room. When he walks in he’s immediately greeted by the noise of his friends arguing once again- he groans and starts to settle in before jumping on his bed not caring for his homework he has to complete later as well. A few hours pass and megumi found himself getting woken up by Yuji jumping on his bed yelling at him to “get up and the stream is starting soon”, nobara comes by and stares at him dumbfounded asking him if that’s what he’s going to look like on stream. Yuji laughs at what Nobara asked as he walked away saying “streams on in 20 get on and join the discord call” Megumi throws a pillow over his face and lays in his own peace for a while. Then he starts to get up to look at least decent online. He goes over to his bathroom to attempt to to fix his hair as he changes into sweats, he then makes his way over to his gaming set up as he sets his headphones on his head and logs into the call starting his live stream- joining his friends and Toge. The video starts as Yuji welcomes all the followers to the wide call and collab they had created. “Hey guys! It’s Yuji were back with my special friends megumi nobara and our special guest Toge” yuji yells the last part. Each party says their greetings as they start the grand show for their fans.

Authors notes: hiiiiiiiii guys! chapter two!! now we’re getting started introducing megumis first stream on this story and welcoming y/ns first dance classs!! the calm before the storm…. Anyways!!! This is a slow burn fyi!! i wanted to put that out before adding more chapters in case you guys were wondering.. but how are we feeling about megumi x y/ns first interaction (ish..) but once again thank you for all you support see you for chapter 3!!

Fun facts:

• Before college y/n was the best ballet dancer at her old dance company (gaining some common enemies … jealousy is a dangerous thing.)

• Megumi is a great student having all A’s and sometimes B’s, but his favorite subject is math. (this helps him become also making him known for being a very strategic and tactical gamer as his smarts help him succeed)

• Megumi doesn’t really care about his appearance but due to demand of Nobara saying his fans like it when he dresses up a little he started to put a little effort in his appearance. ( it’s for the channel guys!!! hc that his fans think he’s hot…?)

• it was quiet in the morning in megumis dorm because Nobara was out in her classes and Yuji went to buy new games for his channel (when megumi came home from his classes he tried to show megumi his new games but megumi passed out too exhausted to pay attention)

• when Maki got home from her day at college Toge begged her to hop on and play with his new friends and his fans seems to enjoy when Maki is on with him. (she spammed y/n to get home because y/n would replace her spot letting Maki be free.)