#because I was taught how to make a t-shirt at age 8

[ilikecarsandlike4people]

Genuine question because I'm curious, but did you have mandatory "textile work" classes in elementary school where they taught you how to use a sewing machine and how to crochet?

[hellenhighwater]

Mildly weird question for story research purposes: when your cats ride on your shoulder, what does it feel like for you?

Context: My main character has a cat who likes to ride around on her shoulder, and since it's a thing that happens frequently, I'm trying to make sure I write about it well. And, unfortunately, I do not have a cat to even attempt to test it with, so I'm going to the one person I KNOW has experience with this situation.

Specific things that would be helpful to know:

Do you have to be careful not to upset their balance, or can you more or less walk normally once they're up there?

How are they keeping themselves up there? Are there claws involved? Or just good balance?

Where's most of their weight? I looked back at some pictures/vids, and it looks like they typically ride with their front paws on the shoulder and their back paws somewhere a bit below and beside your neck, but I could be wrong.

How long can they stay on your shoulder before one of you has to take a break? Is the weight of the cat tiring, or is it pretty easy to deal with?

Anything else I should be aware of regarding shoulder cats?

Thank you SO MUCH for your help!

Oh, I can definitely answer that! One: It's waaay easier to shoulder a small cat than a big one.

For the most part, they kind of drape themselves over the shoulder; this is specifically what I've trained them to do. Cats will also "shoulder" by draping across both shoulders/back of neck, but this forces your head forward to allow room for them, and it's not comfy. Hence the trained posture. (Malice, in the early days:)

I taught Mal to jump up when I bent forward for her, and circle to face front while I stood up. She can actually do that pretty quickly. Their weight is pretty evenly distributed across the top of the shoulder and down on the pectoral, not really on the back at all. Mal sometimes hooks her back claws into my shirt near the shoulderblade, which is more about balance than weight support. Nim, who was significantly smaller, actually kept her back feet tucked up so that her feet were on the top of my shoulder. This is a significantly more ready posture than Mal's--she would have to readjust for a better foothold to jump down; Nim could leap directly off at a moment's notice. Overall, Nim had far superior shouldering skills to Mal. Malice rides like the meatball she is; I'm hoping she'll learn with age. Here's some pictures of Nim:

To give them a stable position, I do keep my back straight and shoulders back; if I have to pick something up, I will crouch down instead of bending over. If I have to bend forwards, I will put my palm up flat so that they can stand with their front paws on it and keep their body on my shoulder. Generally, I can move, walk, and even work normally. I've cooked, painted, done chores, even run. Both hands are free to use, though generally you can't lift the arm the cat is on above a T position. They don't need to use their claws for balance unless I am doing something really active. I do shoulder almost exclusively on my left shoulder, so that my dominant hand is more free.

The weight is not significant--Nim was only about 8 lbs, Mal is about 11, and because there's no grip to maintain them and they're naturally situated on the shoulder, it's easy to carry them for a long time. I used to walk miles with Nim on my shoulder. It's actually more the heat--cats run hot, and it's a lot of fur on your neck and shoulder if it's warm out. Great in the winter, though!

Notable things you might not realize--their head is in front of yours, so you can still see ear positions, what they're looking at, etc. Nim's night vision/hearing/sense of smell was better than mine, so I could tell if we were sneaking on wildlife based on her reactions and responses to things. You can also feel them tense or adjust posture before they jump or try to get down, and you can feel their tail moving. You can also feel if they're growling or purring, even if you can't hear it. If you're used to paying attention to those cues, you'll notice them while just carrying the cat normally too--Nobody could sneak up behind me if I was carrying Nim facing over my shoulder to the back.

They can jump from shoulder height but it's a hard landing. Usually if I want them down, I just kneel with a knee up, or lift a leg flat while standing so they can jump to the top of my leg and then to the ground.

If I was in a fictional setting and traveling with them long term, I would be investing in a really weird piece of leather armor, that goes to the edge of the neck/crest of shoulder, and down past the bottom of the shoulderblade, with little easy-to-grip leather loops or chainmail on the back of the shoulder.

[ysabelmystic]

Top 5 worst times you got into trouble as a kid.

Ohhhh man this is gonna be a hard one to answer because undiagnosed ADHD and Autism does not mix well with authoritarian bullshit. Plus, the stuff I got away with is generally worse, a lot funnier, and more extensive. But here's 5 things I can think of off the top of my head.

I caused several thousand dollars worth of damage because 2-year-old me decided that our rented house's white carpet needed an introduction to my mom's red nail polish- color theory hospital style. Thankfully, our landlord was my mom's best friend, and after several cleaning attempts, she decided to eat the cost. I only know about this because both of them bring it up at least twice a year.

From ages 6-9, my parents forced me to do this stupid church soccer club thing because my dad was obsessed with soccer and my brother was practically a soccer prodigy. I didn't care for it one bit. We always had to rush dinner to make it to soccer practice on time, so in my head, I figured that if we couldn't eat dinner, we couldn't make it to soccer practice. We were having spaghetti that night, and you can't have spaghetti without sauce, so after a lot of unsuccessful crying, begging, and pleading, I took the whole pot of spaghetti sauce and dumped it on the floor. I avoided soccer practice, but I also got ultra-grounded for a month. All I had in my room was a mattress. Everything else was taken away. And that's when I discovered the power of dissociative daydreaming, and I can now mentally check out of any situation at, and against, my will! (My mother has since apologized, but also I am the reason I will never have biological children lmao).

Here's a funny one. On their anniversary weekend, my parents left my brother and I with my grandparents on my dad's side. This had its pros and cons. On the one hand, they had a pool, and never supervised what we watched on TV. On the other hand, that set of grandparents wouldn't let us skip church, and they went to a different church. It didn't even have a Sunday School. I was about 9 or 10, so I was deemed old enough to pack my own suitcase. I purposefully brought along my most raggedy yard clothes, thinking that would get me out of going. Come Sunday morning, I learned that unfortunately, cargo shorts and an old t-shirt did not grant me an exemption, so I had to come up with something else. After getting my brother and I fed and dressed, my grandparents went off to attend to themselves, leaving the both of us unsupervised. Their mistake. My brother and I went out into the backyard to play catch while we waited. It was then that I had an idea. My brother was about 7, still young enough that he would do just about anything I asked him, so it took him about 5 seconds to convince him that it would be both hilarious and fun if he jumped in the pool, fully dressed in his good church clothes. My grandparents were fucking piiiiissssssssed. My brother didn't have any spare clothes so my grandma had to throw everything in the dryer while I got the "wait until your parents come home" speech and a TV ban for the rest of the day. However, when my parents found out, my dad thought it was so funny that I pretty much got away with it. Oh, and we still had to go to church. We made it to the last 30 minutes of service.

My mom's contribution: I was taught about Jackon Pollock in kindergarten and inflicted my newfound splatterpaint skills upon our white cabinets, the kitchen walls, and the hallway. There's a theme with my crimes. My artistic expression could not be stopped.

I earned my first formal exorcism because I had the audacity to ask what happened to the fish during The Flood. "They didn't need to be in the boat" Well Sharon what about water salinity? How did the fish not die from the change in water chemistry? Did Noah have wooden fish tanks? Did someone have to go to every country to get the fish and a sample of their native waters? Anyways, because I was like...8, this was a sign that I had Demons, and this required them to drag me into the hallway and spend the next 30 minutes dousing me in anointing oil and demanding that Satan leave my body. Yeet!

[patchworkgargoyle]

Dom: 6, 8, 19, 46

Rory: 5, 21, 34, 35

-read

YESSS HI READ <3 C:

Dom 6. Can they tolerate spicy food?

I think as a kid he Could Not, but out of sheer determination and stubbornness (and because he wanted to be able to brag about it) he got his spice tolerance up really high.

8. What do they wear to bed?

Just pajama pants, surprisingly! He would sleep naked but he gets cold too easily, and he probably wears a ratty old t-shirt in the winter, or he steals someone else's. Actually, I bet a lot of his sleepwear is stolen, and like half of it was Kez's at one point or another xD

19. Do they prefer buying gifts or receiving gifts?

Dom absolutely prefers receiving gifts. He likes knowing someone thought of him, though the more heartfelt the gift is the more awkward he gets about it. Also, giving gifts makes him Anxious.

46. Do they have a sweet tooth?

A little bit! He leans a bit more savoury, but he can also enjoy a fair bit of sweetness. The moment anyone points it out, though, he gets defensive because he has an image to protect. This doesn't count for sweet/fruity drinks though, he'll drink those without any shame. Rory 5. Do they have a food or flavour that they absolutely hate?

I think I'll give Rory my hatred of bananas, though while I can enjoy the taste and not the texture, he hates everything about them, doesn't matter what form they come in. Luckily they're easy to avoid!

21. Can they play any instruments?

Guitar, and he can sing! His parents taught him both at a young age, since they could play and sing too, but when his dad passes Rory and his mum both kinda stop. Rory does keep practicing here and there, and gets back into playing guitar when he moves out on his own, but he doesn't tend to around his mum. The guitar he plays on used to be his dad's.

34. Are they quick to get haircuts or do they often grow it out?

He lets it grow out all the time, I think he just totally forgets to make an appointment until he's got a bit of a mop going xD Likely keeps a few hair ties around for when it's long enough to get in his eyes, so he sometimes has that half-up style. He probably also has some hairbands that make his curly bangs stick up funny.

35. Do they know how to whistle?

Definitely! He'll whistle all the time, most often when he's cooking, probably because he has a tune stuck in his head that he can't get out any other way.

Ask me more oc questions pleasepleaseplease

[charliesimss]

ALL OF THEM FOR MISSY.

Gotta whip out the mouse anD laptop for these ones

Mason&Issy

1. Who sleeps on the left and right side of the bed? Issy sleeps on the left, Mason on the right because the right is closer to the bathroom door in case someone breaks in and kills them.

2. Who does most of the cooking? They don't cook their poor children will starve. Probably Mason, but Issy makes the tea now because it's all she can make confidently. Maybe they'll both get better at following recipes soon.

3. Who’s the little and big spoon? MASON is little. Change my mind.

4. Who says creepy paper and who says crepe paper? Wtf is creepy paper?

5. Who screams and who kills the spider? Issy screams, Steve kills the spiders, but Mason seems like the take outside type instead.

6. Who’s the sun and who’s the moon? Issy's sunny, Masons moon cause it's very witchy vibes of him.

7. How do they share chores? They'd probably both just do whatever needs doing, they're adults so they'd want their house clean and if they have free time and energy they'd do the necessary chores. But I feel like they'd tackle hard chores like laundry and dishes together, like Issy would put away while Mason washes, Mason would carry the laundry and put it on but Issy would organize the loads and fold them.

8. What are their cooking habits? Who cooks meals and who “cooks” insta-ramen? Mason looks like he can cook real meals and Issy can barely boil water to make instant ramen. She can make oatmeal in the microwave tho.

9. How do they handle arguments? What do they argue about? They literally sulk away from each other and cry but then cuddle and make up.

10. What are their love languages? Issy does words, and makes him crafts like cards and stuff on her cricut, and Mason probably is more physically affectionate.

11. Who says marco and who says polo? They've never played this game before but mason being a lifeguard would probably say polo and be out of the pool like a cheater saying it.

12. Who says “party rockers” and who says “party rock is”? I didn't know this was a THING. Mason says BOTH issy probably doesn't know the words.

13. What’s their age and height difference? Ah lemme refer to the chart, 2 years, and 1.5 ft 😌

14. How does their personal styles differ? Do they share clothes? Fashionably they're quite different, issy is all pink and cozy, and Mason is all crop tops and black and punky, but Issy might wear some of his plain t-shirts as dresses of his crop tops as regular tops.

15. How do their past relationships (or lack thereof) affect their current relationship? Issy doesn't really have any solid boyfriends to compare him to but she does have an abusive dad :crygun: and that's affected her by making her apologetic all the time and not feeling worthy of love :)) thanks duncan ♡

16. Who takes charge during grocery trips? Who picks out all the silly snacks and munchies? I think Mason gets snacky during grocery trips but Issy eats before she goes because her dads taught her to not go grocery shopping while hungry.

17. Who made the first move? What was it? Mason did and he asked her out for valentine's day.

18. What’s a typical date night for them? Do they go out or stay in? They'd go out to a fancy restaurant probably that Mason picks cause he knows them, and Issy would compare it to olive garden.

19. Do they engage in PDA? If so, what kind? Casual kisses probably

20. Do they want kids? If so, who initiated the question about having them? YEs, and I think they just started talking about it even before they were dating because they both like kids and have always wanted lots so it just came up in casual conversation.

21. Who drives and who’s the passenger princess? Mason drives like Linc in ntwyw, and Issy sits because she gets into about 3 car crashes a day.

22. What do they bring out in each other? Mason brings out her determined side, not so much spiteful, but determined to be better and be organized to better the both of them. And Issy brings out his self consciousness and makes him want to better himself.

23. Who’s messier? How does the other react? I feel like by male default it's Mason. Issy tries to be very organized like asmr tiktokers. And she'd just clean up for him and organize his drawers with little compartments so he'd always be able to see things and find everything he needs. 😌

24. What’s their song? This one or this one 🥺

25. Who said I love you first? How did it go? I wish very badly that i remembered this :)))

26. Who asked out who first? Mason asked her out fist

27. Who takes the most photos of the other? What are the photos like? Issy takes candids of him all the time, probably blurry and mid sentence of him, because he's always moving or talking

28. How would they describe each other? Issy would describe him as protective, smart, and creative. He would describe her as sunshine :lotslove:

29. What’s their go-to takeout order and movie night combo? It's the Mummy (1999) or Prince of Egypt (1998) because he got Issy into brandon fraser movies after saying he was his bi awakening, and because of the songs in prince of egypt. And idk they seem like sushi people. Low carbs and all that.

30. What are their nicknames for each other? (If any) Issy makes nicknames like it's her JOB. She nicknames him like I nickname Henry. She calls him Mase, Masey, Maseroni, beepers. And I guess she'd throw in a cute basic one like babe. And he calls her a stor (?), and my love.

31. What’s their first dance song? (If they have one) Boop 32. How are they intimate with each other in a nonsexual way? Holding hands :) they are children of god after all

33. What do their families think of their partner? Issy's dads really like him and his dads and they all hang out together like gay dads do (how did you meet each other? ""uhm we're all gay""?) And Mason's fam treats issy so nice, like royalty, she's shocked how Gen treats her and buys her things and cooks for her and stuff, more than Gemma ever did 🤗

34. What couple from another media reminds you of them? Violet and Linc from not the witch you wed!!!!

35. What are their favorite couple activities for each season? I think they'd like Winter a lot and go skiing, and in the summer they'd go swimming a lot.

36. Who wakes up and falls asleep first? Issy does both. Mason doesn't have healthy sleeping habits :/

37. Who initiated the first kiss? What was it like? Mason probably and it was when they were drinking hot chocolate actually that's as much as i recall

38. What do they love most about each other? Issy loves how family oriented he is and how passionate he is about things he likes.

39. Who worries and who calms? They both be worrying so much they got some type of complex anxiety i swear. Gen fucking calms them both. :notlikethis:

40. Do they have any jealous tendencies over each other? Issy is the one to get sad before she'd get jealous, but she hasn't had a reason to be jealous.

41. Who is the most physically affectionate? he is

42. Do you have a playlist for them? Gimme?????? Sometimes I add issy songs to his playlist that u literally made. 💀

43. Which one of them did you make first? Good question. I made issy in like 2018? But idk when Mason was made in game

44. How long have you been playing with them (or making edits with, etc.) Hmmm since Last February!!! "hey babe happy one year. I'm 27."

45. How long have they known each other? What age did they meet? They've known each other for uhm 3 years this month I think, and were 18 and 20 when they met I think.

46. Who takes longer to get ready? Depends where they're going but probably Issy if she's doing her makeup, if not it could be either one. Mason looks like he takes long to get ready, his hair alone.

47. How did they meet? Working at diamond peaks 🥺

48. What is something they have given the other that has a lot of meaning? A baby

49. Who’s more of the “protector” in the relationship? probably mason by instinct because the world hasn't been nice to issy

50. What is their dynamic playing board games and video games? (versus each other and/or on the same team) Mason gets competitive if he's playing with other family members, and Issy is like "I'm just happy to be here :-)"

[anashins]

Play Me Like Your Guitar

Title: Play Me Like Your Guitar

Pairing: Jaehyun x You

Genre: band!AU, romance, smut, a sprinkle of drama

Warnings: finger play, handjob, protected sex, FLUFF and teasing

Word Count: 6.197

Summary: In order to improve your guitar skills, you decide to take private lessons to get accepted into a newly formed band. But the first lesson does not go the way you have imagined at all.

Jaehyun had sex like he played the guitar - rhythmic, steady, precise, and with a proficiency that no one dared to doubt.

_______

You looked into the eyes of a boy around your age, his gaze reflecting as much surprise as your own expression must have given away after he had opened the door for you.

His dark brown hair was messily pushed back and he was wearing a pair of washed-out ripped jeans with a simple white v-necked t-shirt. A silver necklace was adorning his neck, trailing down to his revealed collarbones until the delicate string of chains ended behind his clothe's fabric where an oddly shaped pendant silhouetted against his shirt.

Your gaze wandered up again and you noticed that his expression had changed. He was grinning slyly at you, and where the door had only been slightly ajar before, it was now opened completely so that you could get a view of the apartment's interior behind him.

“Hi!” he greeted you joyfully. “Are you here for the guitar lesson? You’re very early.”

“Uhm… yes.” You took a short, but decent bow before starting an apology, “I’m sorry for the inconvenience with my early appearance. I just didn’t want to be late.”

You had never been to this part of the town before, and since it was your first lesson, you didn’t want to leave a bad impression at your tutor.

Actually, you had been very unsure whether to really come or not, but your ambition had driven you to take the opportunity and accept the offer of this guitar-playing student that was pinned on your college’s bulletin board, who was willing to teach advanced learners for an affordable amount of money.

When you had been going up the stairs of the apartment complex, it was anxiousness and insecurity that accompanied you, because the thoughts whether he was someone nice who taught with patience or someone who would scold you every time were keeping you up at night.

But your first impression of him was not bad at all. Absolutely not.

“No problem,” he assured you and made a welcoming gesture to invite you in his apartment. “I’m Jaehyun, your tutor.”

You nodded thankfully, introduced yourself as well and followed Jaehyun into his apartment, your huge bag with your acoustic guitar on your back. It was a neat flat, modernly furnished, and you seated yourself on the couch in the middle of the room as you put down your bag, just now perceiving the other acoustic guitar, hanging on the wall in the corner of the room.

“You’re also playing the acoustic guitar?” you asked curiously, and he nodded.

“Sometimes, but I’m more of an electric guitar player,” your tutor explained as he seated himself beside you.

As though he had broken the ice with this information, you shifted around to face him with your brightest smile. “So, you play in a band?”

“Yeah, occasionally,” he said casually.

“That’s awesome!” you returned. “I want to audition for a band next week. They are looking for a new guitarist and I’ve always wanted to join a group instead of playing only for myself. I saw a notice on the college’s bulletin board and just thought why not? I’ve been playing the guitar for 8 years already, though I’ve taken a hiatus for like a year and only laid a hand on it last week again. I’m not very sure whether my skills are up to par enough to be accepted since I think I’ve gotten quite rusty, which is why I want to take some lessons to improve myself.”

Jaehyun chuckled lightly as his lips tilted up to form a smirk, and for a moment, you thought that you might have overwhelmed him with too much information that didn’t interest him at all, luring out mockery.

“Cool,” he just answered and seemed to shrug it off instantly so that you almost felt regret for having talked to him so bluntly right away. He nodded in the direction of your guitar bag. “Want to show me what you're capable of?”

You nodded directly, slightly ashamed over your sudden outburst since he didn't seem so interested in it anyway, and reached out for your bag in front of your feet. Zipping it open, you pulled out your guitar, and with a certain carefulness, you placed it on your lap, grabbing the fingerboard with your left hand and holding the body with the other.

“I’ll quickly tune it up,” you explained.

Jaehyun nodded again, watching you fiddling with the neck of the guitar as you changed the positions of the tuning keys by turning them to get the right strains on the strings for the certain note. You plucked on each string a few times until the note sounded right in your ears and moved on to the next one until you were finished.

Satisfied, you turned aside to ask Jaehyun, “Shall I just start playing something randomly now or—“

But within a second, he had moved forward to take the same position as you. He wound his arms around each side of your body and grabbed on the guitar himself, his left hand over your own on the fingerboard and his right hand over yours on the guitar body, his chest pressed against your back and his face right beside yours as his voice whispered huskily, “This tone doesn’t sound quite right.”

You startled and your body stiffened as you felt him so close to you. Not daring to make a single move or to even take a short breath, you just sat there and perceived every little movement he did; how his fingers brushed over yours and plucked the strings, how his soft breath was always next to your ear, how his body leaned against yours, holding you in a half-embrace.

Unwillingly, your own body became weak, and it was undeniable due to the closeness of your tutor.

“I fixed it,” Jaehyun then declared firmly, pulling you out of your thoughts that had only revolved around him as he withdrew himself from you.

Feeling like if he had noticed your short absence as he grinned at you, you quickly turned your gaze away as you flushed a little and grabbed on your guitar a little firmer now that his hands on yours were gone.

You couldn’t deny the fact that the position in which you both had been before felt very pleasant, evoking feels in you that you had been missing out on for quite a time. And now that he had withdrawn himself, you actually felt like missing the embrace from before.

“Just quickly show me what you are capable of and we’ll figure out what you’re lacking in,” Jaehyun suggested and automatically, you nodded obediently.

Still overwhelmed by the act from before and a bit confused, you held your guitar rather awkwardly like you were unskilled, and as you plucked on the strings, the melody of the song you actually wanted to play sounded totally different from what you had in mind. It was like all the years of learning the instrument had been blown away, leaving you unskilled but with a mind full of something or better say someone else.

You weren’t with your thoughts by the act you actually needed to perform anymore, and it was all because of your tutor who was rather hot, you finally admitted to yourself.

Jaehyun chuckled light-heartedly and moved close to you again, looping his arms around you and pressing his body against to yours like before. And just like he had moved a lever with it, your heart suddenly started to pound faster, making a sudden hotness wash through your body that evoked a sizzling fire between you two.

His skin brushed over yours as he plucked the strings, his arms softly and rhythmically moving against yours, his face next to yours with his cheek almost touching your ear as he hummed the song he was playing.

“You need to pluck a little lighter,” he whispered, playing the same short melody over and over again.

But the melody couldn’t bother you less at that moment since you weren’t paying attention to the things he did to the guitar but rather the things he did with you.

You held your breath when he suddenly stopped, afraid that he would withdraw again like he had done before – but he didn’t. Instead, you perceived him shifting, and you instantly got goose bumps as you felt his lips brushing over your earlobe. The strength in your hands suddenly vanished and your body became utterly weak again. If Jaehyun hadn’t hold the guitar at that moment, it would’ve dropped on the ground, and truthfully you wouldn’t even care a bit.

“The strings are very sensitive which is why you don’t need to pluck so hard,” your tutor muttered, and every word that found its way into your ear made you melt away in his arms.

He was so close, and each move of his lips against your skin sent shivers down your spine.

“What are your sensitive spots?” he asked suddenly.

Although you couldn’t see his expression right now, you could swear that he was grinning while questioning you. Taken aback by this bold question, you didn’t know what to answer first, lowering your head and swallowing hard.

“That’s… not a part of the lesson,” you tried to fight, but inwardly you knew that, if he would truly make a move, you would lose.

“Well,” he started, not making a move to even slightly change his position, “you said you wanted to have lessons to improve yourself… but you didn’t say in what topic.”

“What—“

“I’m not only good in playing the guitar, you know,” he cut you off.

But before you could even get the chance to return something, you were interrupted again by Jaehyun tugging on your hair to tilt your head a bit. You let out a hearable gasp as he placed his mouth on the side of your neck and left a soft kiss right there.

Your grip around the guitar’s fingerboard became tighter when he began to suck harshly on your neck, even taking some skin between his teeth to nibble playfully on that spot. A ticklish, yet excited feeling spread through your limbs and filled you up to your last fiber, leaving you in disappointment as you felt him pulling his lips back.

“Number one found,” Jaehyun chuckled into your ear.

Before you could happen to think properly again, you opened your mouth to let out another gasp that got stuck in your throat and rendered you silent. He had wandered with his free hand under your shirt, slowly sliding his fingertips along your naked skin, and every inch that he moved over, made you shiver pleasantly.

He stopped at the area of your navel, rubbing circular patterns around that spot that made you chuckle slightly due to the ticklish feeling. Although he had the rough fingertips of a guitarist, you didn’t notice anything of this at all. His touches were soft and tender and utterly careful.

Satisfied with himself, Jaehyun stated, “Number two found.”

Within seconds, you found his lips placed on the side of your neck again while his hand was holding your body tightly against his, his palms still resting on your naked tummy under your shirt. He sucked on your sensitive spot but didn’t concentrate on there only. He kissed upwards, soft lips caressing your skin as you bent your head aside to give him more space.

You fluttered your lids, trying to gather serious thoughts as you muttered, “But the guitar le—“

“Right,” Jaehyun returned instantly, withdrew his hand that had kept you close to him and grabbed the guitar to place it carefully on the table.

He turned around and kneeled in front of you as he held on either side of your thighs to move you closer to him. He spread your legs and seated himself on the ground between them, letting his palms rest on your thighs, only the thin fabric of your pants hindering you from meeting skin on skin.

“I mean the lesson—“ You tried again.

But he reached out his hands and held on each side of your face as he pulled you down to him, your faces so close to each other that only an inch prevented your lips from meeting one another. Your eyes reflected insecurity, confusion, but also excitement and anticipation.

“Your body is telling me that you want me to help you improve in other topics.”

And with that, Jaehyun pulled you in for a kiss.

It was a rather chaste and less demanding kiss in the beginning, one that was testing the waters as he massaged your lips as softly as he had done on your neck before, experimenting how far he could go first. You were hesitant as well, returning his kisses with slight, almost unnoticeable movements.

But it was not too long before you reached out your hands to grab on his shoulders for hold before you opened your lips fully, giving him consent to continue and deepen the kiss. You could feel him smiling as he pulled you so close that your chests almost touched.

His tongue smoothly rolled with yours before he licked over your lower lip, nibbling on the flesh and heating you up even more like that before pushing his tongue back into you. Faster than you thought, you got carried away with the kiss, as it was one of the kind that you had never experienced that intensely before.

So you didn’t notice how Jaehyun had hooked your ankles around his waist and lifted you off the couch with both his hands carrying your body by holding onto your bum.

Within the next moment, he had placed you onto his bed after removing your shirt and pants, leaving you only in your underwear as he positioned himself on top of you. You watched in awe how he got rid of his shirt, grabbing onto the hem of the clothing to pull it over his head in one swift movement, leaving his hair in such a sexy mess that you couldn’t turn your gaze away from him.

Jaehyun smirked sexily, obviously aware of the effect he had on you. When he bent down to you, you reached out and entwined your fingers around the pendant of his necklace, pulling him closer to you to capture his lips.

As he returned the kiss passionately, you traced your fingers along his chest, running your fingertips down his naked skin. Under your touch, you could feel him shiver slightly, making your realize that he felt exactly the same that you did when he touched your own body; excitement, anticipation, but also a hint of insecurity.

With a quick movement, you made you both change your positions so that you were sitting on Jaehyun's lap now, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear as you fiddled with the zipper of his jeans. His erection was already straining against his pants. Your tutor let out a mischievous laughter as you threw a curious gaze at him, slightly taken aback and insecure whether you were doing the right thing.

But he only said, “Doesn’t look like that I need to teach you anymore.”

Jaehyun was obviously surprised, but satisfied with what you were doing. Grinning back at him, you pulled his pants down his thighs, revealing a huge visible tent that was kept hidden underneath the thick fabric. You tugged on the hem of his boxers, freeing his cock that instantly slapped back on his stomach.

“Touch me,” Jaehyun pleaded, and where you had watched his boner in awe before, he had pulled you out of your thoughts now and you nodded, willing to fulfill him this wish.

Tenderly, you grabbed hold of his cock on the base and slowly moved your hand along his length all the way up. You heard a relieved sigh and as you lifted your head to look at Jaehyun, he had his head rolled back while an arm was put over his forehead, covering half of his face.

By the time you’ve reach his tip, brushing with your thumb over the sensitive spot, a low groan came out of his mouth, and you perceived him gritting his teeth, then biting on his lower lip as he stretched out his arms, but kept his eyes shut close.

Somehow, it made you really proud of what you were able to do with him, so you took it a little further. You continued sliding your hand up and down his length while the other hand massaged the area around his base. In the beginning, your pace was rather slow and soft, but as Jaehyun let out a long-lasting moan and an even louder “Fuck!” you decided to tease him even a little more.

You increased your pace, sliding up and down rhythmically, fast and steady, feeling him growing even more under your palms, if that was possible.

It was only moments later when the first drops of his precum was built on his tip that you took the opportunity to lower your head and deliciously let your tongue lick over his head to sip it all up. But as you parted your lips to take him into your mouth fully, Jaehyun had already flipped you over and pinned you against the mattress with his entire weight, making it impossible for you to move anymore.

“Enough,” he breathed, sweat glistening on his forehead as he hovered over you. “It’s my turn. I am the tutor.”

He lifted your body up a bit by reaching with both of his hands under your back to unhook your bra which he then took off and tossed on the ground. He touched your left breast, first on the top slope before he lifted his hand and only run the fingertips across the mound. You mewled quietly to his touches, your nipples hardening as Jaehyun rolled his fingers around your sensitive spot.

“Another one found,” he muttered, a smile forming on his lips as his warm hand closed around your breast.

It was fully hefted into his palms before he brought up his free hand and did the same to the other breast. Placing himself fully between your legs, you felt his hard-on twitching between your thighs, only the thin fabric of your lace panties keeping your intimate parts from finding each other.

Your own body started to twitch under his as Jaehyun lowered his head and licked with his tongue over your left breast, leaving a path of saliva and making you cry out louder than you had intended. Slyly grinning, he blew over that spot, causing your curved skin to form goose bumps due to the coldness of his liquid. Bending further, he embraced your nipple with his soft lips and sucked on it harshly, but carefully as your hands found their ways to his head to look for a grip by burying your fingers in his silky hair.

Jaehyun showed a certain proficiency as he played with your breasts, kissing around the nub that he had made sensitive and placing tender kisses around the area before he got back to teasing you again, even biting slightly into it which made you cry out once more. Not because of the pain though, but because you were craving for more and for him to finally go further.

Your pink tips shuddered under his touches, but when you threw your head back to glory his mouth play a bit more, it was something else that made you shriek.

Jaehyun had bucked his hips purposely so that his revealed boner was now sliding across your still hidden core, and where you had been only wet before, you were dripping now.

“Let’s see whether this is a sensitive spot too.”

“What?!”

Your eyes widened in question, but Jaehyun said nothing. He laid himself fully on top of you, his chest on your chest, the cold metal of his necklace touching your still heated skin as he shifted his position and fixated his weight on only one side of his body. Nonetheless he managed to pull you in for a kiss which didn’t last long because you broke it instantly and breathed for air.

“Yes, there too,” Jaehyun said confidently when your entire body flinched as his thumb pressed on your clit, massaging it in circular motions.

You threw your head back, your body arched and you dug your nails into his shoulders as pleasant shudders ran down your spine right to your toes while he worked magic on your body, playing with it precisely.

Instinctively, you brought your legs together as your tutor dragged his middle finger along your covered folds, your next moan getting swallowed in his mouth as he wandered upwards again, repeating this movement a few times until you were dripping in his hand and your panties soaking.

“Spread your legs,” he commanded and you reacted obediently, although it was very hard to do so when he was still playing with you around there.

You threw your head aside, your upper body lifting off the mattress as your back arched. Jaehyun had pushed two fingers into you, and just as your thighs wanted to react like before, squeezing shut, he now rested one arm on your inner leg, keeping your limbs separated that way.

He worked slowly in the beginning, sliding in and out lewdly, teasing you and smiling over every moan that fell from your lips, but as he increased his pace, pumping in and out of you with a certain force on the right spots, your legs began to flinch uncontrollably under his, announcing the upcoming release to which he drove you further with his finger play.

Then, Jaehyun withdrew his fingers and sat up, leaving your core still twitching hotly, missing his touches already. His hair was messier than before due to your own fingers running through his curls and as he looked up, throwing a gaze at you, you couldn’t help but to smile at each other.

Jaehyun then raised his finger, licking the juice all up, and you actually happened to think that this was the sexiest scene you had ever seen. The look he threw at you was filled with lust and anticipation for the upcoming act, but also with a certain kindness and esteem towards you.

He had worked on your body like a guitar, playing the sensitive strings with precision, but deliberately and gently, exactly knowing where to work to lure out the best sounds of you. His finger play was the work of a very experienced guitar player, his fingertips rough, but he still knew how to use them to make you feel good.

He made you the instrument while he was the player, turning you completely obedient to each of his motions.

Jaehyun then bent his head and peppered butterfly kisses in between your breasts, tracing them downwards along your stomach, then to your navel, your groin, and even further till he reached the hem of your panties. Seating himself up again, he took your legs and laid them over his shoulder, tugging on your panties that he then slid off your legs and tossed it, with the rest of his own clothes, to the ground. Reaching over you, he opened the drawer of his nightstand and took out a condom that he unpacked and rolled over his erection.

Jaehyun placed himself back on top of you, his cock twitching between your inner thighs in anticipation as you could already feel his tip at your entrance. You two kept close eye contact as he pushed himself into you, not too fast, but slowly and carefully since he didn’t know how he would fit into you yet. Studying every change your expression made, he watched you sighing in relief when he glided in, the reaction assuring him that you were okay.

He stretched you with every inch he plunged in, making you dig your nails deeper into his back. As he eased himself in you, you perceived how good the way he filled you up felt, making you feel completed. Your bodies just matched perfectly.

You bucked your hips impatiently, catching your tutor off guard for a moment by sending pleasure down his body and making him lose his control for a short time. But after he had found his position again, leaning over you, he let out a short laughter as if he surely wanted to take this competition.

Jaehyun's arms were propped on either side of your head on the pillow as he began to move. And this time, he didn’t start slowly like all of his acts before, and you thanked him for this inwardly since he had heated up the both of you with his promising foreplay already.

Jaehyun had sex like he played the guitar - rhythmic, steady, precise, and with a proficiency that no one dared to doubt.

He thrusted into you with a certain force, but never too harsh to make you cry out in pain or too fast to hinder you from enjoying it. He plunged in and out of you, his hips steadily grinding against yours. You met his pace by moving your own hips with his rhythm, increasing the sensation that was built between the both of you in your connected parts.

He had moved an arm under your back, lifting up your body a bit while you had rolled your head back, revealing your sensitive neck area that Jaehyun was now caressing with kisses as he dipped his head, planting passionate smooches and every now and then soft pecks onto your skin.

Every time Jaehyun slid out and needed too long for your impatient body to push back in, you unknowingly scratched his back, crying out his name, wanting even more, and by the third time, he came to know your cravings all to well and do this on purpose just to have you call out his name over and over again “Jaehyun… Jaehyun… Jaehyun…!!”

He took his other hand to reach down to your thigh and wound your leg around his waist, bringing your sweaty bodies together, his chest brushing against your breasts, every movement luring a mewl out of your mouth while his hot breath was close to your ear, his breathing pace increasing as each thrust passed. He plunged in and out, your body becoming an entangled mess, your lips craving for more kisses and your skin craving for more touches.

Jaehyun's chest parted from yours as he brought his upper body up to grab on the headboard, ready for the climax. You studied in amazement how his majestic chest, covered in glistening sweat, rose in front of your sight, how he increased his pace and closed his eyes, and you took all of his rough poundings as he lowered his head and released a loud groan that was followed by a few quieter ones, shudders running down his spine as he released himself into you.

Against your expectations, he didn’t let go of you yet. He wanted you to come now as well. Within the next second, he had lifted you off the mattress, causing you to let out a surprised “Ah!” and had you placed on his lap in a seating position as he held your body firmly against his.

You looped your arms around his neck and dipped your head, resting your forehead on his shoulder as he thrusted upwards, more forceful than he had done before, but the effect was incredible. Your moans got muffled in the crook of his neck as your body bounced on his thighs steadily. He held onto your hips to keep them down as he rotated his own in circular motions, purposely focused on stimulating your clit by grinding against you, and as he began thrusting again, you came as well with one hard jolt of his that was followed by several other ones while he let you ride it out.

And as you did come in shudders that sent spasms down to your body, with your head thrown back, with your hands holding onto Jaehyun's shoulders, with your legs wounded around his waist and with Jaehyun embracing your body to not let you fall over, you let out the tone that was the most pleasant one in his ears – the one of you calling out his name: “Jaehyun…”

--

You were still naked in bed as Jaehyun came back with his guitar and seated himself beside you. You wrapped the blanket around your body and brought your legs close to your chest to rest your chin on your knees and listened to him playing. You had your eyes closed in the beginning, listening to the wonderful melodies he created with the instrument, absorbing every note of it, trying to remember and memorize every single accord and tone.

You were carried away by the magic of the moment and truthfully, you didn’t want him to ever stop playing again.

Peeking through strands of your hair, you secretly caught a glimpse at him and your heart started to flutter when you saw him sitting there, half-naked and utterly sexy, his messy hair now down and framing his face; his expression was concentrating, his gaze fixated on the guitar, yet he had time to quickly look up and return your soft expression.

Flushing, you lowered your gaze again as your heart throbbed fast against your chest, but it wasn’t quick enough to not have perceived the smile that he was flashing at you and in secrecy, you smiled back.

As he was finished with the song, Jaehyun put the guitar aside and shifted his sight at you, the kind smile still lingering around his lips.

“Too bad that we couldn’t come to the lesson anymore,” he said, but you both started to chuckle simultaneously because the sentence was filled with pure sarcasm to which the truth you both couldn’t deny.

“So… Your time is still not over,” he grinned slyly and moved towards you, his hands on your waist as he approached you. “How about some extra lessons then?”

You welcomed him happily with an open-mouthed kiss as he gently pushed you back onto the mattress, placing your head on the pillow and himself between your legs. As he seated himself up to remove his boxers for the next round, you saw it.

You saw it clearly and you didn’t know why you hadn't noticed it before. The oddly shaped pendant on his necklace was not some sort of a cryptic modern jewelry that one could not exactly define. It was a letter in capitals.

The letter “T”.

Within a moment that didn’t even last a single second, your view on this whole situation changed as the world, in which you had been living in the past hour, broke down.

You didn’t know why you had let yourself lure into this situation in the first place. Perhaps, it was his charm, the magic of the moment or your own craving for physical attention. And even if it was all three of them, it wouldn’t explain why the news now hurt so much since feelings weren’t involved in the first place anyways.

But the thought that Jaehyun had most likely a girlfriend, a girl so precious that he was always wearing her around his neck, just shattered you for reasons you couldn’t exactly define. And by the time he had perceived your changed mien, you realized that it utterly bothered you that it wasn’t your name he was wearing on his necklace after you had shared such a beautiful moment.

“What’s wrong?” Jaehyun asked worriedly, his expression as lost as yours.

You pushed him from top of you and moved to the side of the bed to collect your clothes.

“I need to go,” you quickly said, trying to sound as normal and strong as you could.

At first, it seemed like Jaehyun let you go willingly, but after you were fully dressed and wanted to leave his room, he grabbed for your wrist and made you stay.

“What’s wrong?” he repeated again, demanding an answer.

But you didn’t want him to triumph over another trophy by turning around and let yourself get humiliated.

So you just freed your arm with one fast jolt and left the apartment as fast as possible. You didn’t even waste time by putting your guitar back in the bag as you just grabbed each item and left the apartment before Jaehyun could even catch up on you.

By the time he had reached the living room, he just perceived the noise of the door falling shut, and when opened it again to call out for your name, you were already running down the stairs as fast as you could, sudden tears blocking your view which you frantically blinked away.

You didn’t stop running until a few blocks down the street, exhausted, tired and your heart so sad that you could barely breathe.

--

When you pulled open the door to the rehearsal room, you were actually surprised that there weren't many people auditioning as well. To be exact: There was no other person aside from you.

You pulled out the paper from the bulletin board with the date and time of the audition, but except for the fact that you were early as always, they were absolutely correct. Insecurely, you stepped in and closed the door behind you.

Immediately, a boy around your age came towards you, greeting you happily with a decent bow. “Hello, are you y/n?”

You nodded, surprised over his sudden happiness to see you. “Yes. Am I right here for the audition? Because I don’t see anyone else.”

“That’s because there won’t be anyone else,” he announced with a smile. “You’re our new member.”

“What?” Your eyes widened in surprise, unsure of whether you had heard right, and that was why the guy repeated,

“You’re our new guitarist. Congratulations!”

“What about the audition? The other applicants?”

“They’ve gotten rejected by our leader beforehand already,” he explained.

“Seriously? Why?”

“Because I said so.”

The voice that cut off your conversation was coming from another direction and oddly, it seemed very familiar.

As you turned around, you were facing a boy standing beside other two, a boy that you had been trying so hard to forget during the past days, but had never entirely succeeded in doing so.

And as your gaze fell on the pendant of his necklace again, everything fell together, relief and realization hitting you. Suddenly, you felt so much longing for him that you just wanted to run towards him and let him take you into his arms.

Like he had heard your thoughts, Jaehyun approached you and put an arm around your shoulder, pulling you close to him and placing a fond kiss on your temple.

“She’s mine,” he announced to his three fellow band mates, “so don’t you dare laying a hand on her, right?”

A moment later, after a playful quarrel between the boys and the introduction of each of you, you were seated in front of the small stage in their rehearsal room, Jaehyun standing in front of you, playing the guitar and singing, the guy who had greeted you was on the drums, another played the bass and the last one was on the keyboard. In order to get to know them more as a band and their music since you would join them as their new guitarist, they had deiced to give you a private concert.

Although you were trying to memorize and enjoy the songs, your eyes were almost always with Jaehyun.

Neither of you held yourselves back to hide the affection between you both with longing gazes that had only gotten more intensive during your time of separation. Jaehyun's slender body moved slowly and rhythmically to the music, his electric guitar always firmly in his hands as he shook his head to each tone he was playing, his hair messily swirling around.

But what specifically caught your attention today was his voice as he sang. You hadn't known that he was the lead singer as well which was another reason why you were especially drawn to him now. He had a rather deep singing voice, yet a very smooth and soft one which never got shaky regardless of the notes he needed to hit.

Jaehyun held onto the microphone as he stopped playing every now and then to concentrate on the singing, closing his eyes to hit the right notes, and every time he opened them, you were the first thing he looked at.

You knew that there were many things you needed to talk over.

First of all, you owed him an apology, but you also knew that there was much time left for you both. Now that you were playing in the same band, you’d spend more time together - time that would be filled with lessons in the rehearsal room.

Real guitar lessons in his living room, improvised guitar lessons in between the sheets and promising dates to get to know each other more.

Because T actually stood for the name of his band, but T could also stand for Together.

[baroquebucky]

Hi! Can I request a bucky Barnes one shot with the line “I think that you’re not as dark as you want people to believe” please?

a/n: yup yup !! i hope you enjoy <333 I kinda went overboard on this one hehe,, feel free to send in some bucky requests !! pls tell me what u guys think !!

word count: 5.1k ,,, i said it was long,,

minor faws spoilers ?

bucky paints himself as a villain, someone to avoid at all costs. you think he’s too scared to admit how soft he really is.

masterlist

A groan escaped your lips as you mindlessly moved your hand around, trying to find where your phone was in order to turn off your alarm. You sighed as you finally found it quickly shutting it off and closing your eyes again. You lay there with an empty mind, sleep about to over come you again, thoughts of soft sheets and cozy couch- ding! ding! ding!

You jumped up in surprise, heart racing as your second alarm went off. Rubbing your eyes you tumbled out of bed, shuffling to the restroom to change and get your morning started. You headed out the door of your apartment, locking it quickly before going to work, taking notice of the uhaul truck parked outside.

As the day went by you went through the motions of your day, you were itching to get back home, eager to see if you had new neighbors or not. The last time you had neighbors it was a sweet old man, he brought you banana bread when he first moved in, telling you he hoped to be a good neighbor to you.

You had grown close to him, Stan, soon thinking of him like your own grandpa, but he moved away to live with one of her children. He had taught you to be more level headed and less stubborn and always treat other with kindness.

The thought of him warmed your heart, deciding then that if you had a new neighbor you would bake them some banana bread as a welcome gift, you hoped they were around your age since you didn’t have many friends and most of them were too busy half the time to hang out with you.

As you returned home, the door for the apartment next door was wide open and you could hear voices talking while boxes were moved around.

“Steve i can move it on my own youll break your back trying” a deep voice spoke, another one followed, this one lighter and raspier.

“you and i are the same age shut up” the other man spoke. You smiled as the two bickered, probably a son and his dad or grandfather you guessed.

You changed quickly, taking note of missing ingredients for your banana bread and headed to the store, giddy to meet your new neighbors. You had never been outgoing, throughout college you barely made any friends because you were too scared to talk to strangers, but you were trying to turn a new leaf now.

After paying and heading back to your apartment you quickly got to work, mashing bananas and singing along to your music. Finally popping the bread into the over and sitting on your couch, it was already 8 pm so you hoped your new neighbors would still be up, or else you would have to wait until tomorrow and you didn’t want to give them cold bread.

As the oven dinged and you made sure the bread was perfectly cooked you grinned ear to ear, taking it out and placing it on a plate you had bought earlier, the sides were adorned with a simple but cute floral design and you hoped they liked it.

You were about to head out the door when you took note of your outfit, you but your lip and decided to change clothes quickly, putting on some looser jeans, a white t shirt and a thin sweater.

You grabbed the plate and headed out, listening to see if there was any sound coming from the apartment, luckily you could hear the tv, they were watching a soccer game.

“okay okay, just knock say hello, bread then go easy!” You whispered you yourself, heart racing and palms getting sweaty. You backed away from the door slowly, nerves getting the best of you.

“No i can do this i can do this!” You scolded yourself, in one swift motion you knocked on the door before you could think. You face falling as you realized you had actually knocked, what if it was too loud? What if they thought you were rude now and that you were- oh, wow.

The door opened and there stood none other than Bucky Barnes. You recognized him quickly since he was all over your timeline on Twitter, everyone gushing about how hot he was and how he deserved better. Your mind was blank now that he looked down at you.

“can i help you?” He asked, looking at you and then at the bread, and then back at you. Your eyes widened and you nodded.

“oh yes! bread! I mean heres bread! i made it- here is some bread that i made as a welcome gift, like welcome to your apartment” you rambled, your face was burning and you hoped that somehow he couldn’t tell, maybe girls in the 40’s didn’t blush so he didn’t know what was wrong with your face you thought.

“oh?” was all he said, he could hear your heartbeat racing, he thought you were terrified of him, rushing though your words to get away from him as soon as heavenly possible. Bucky heard you rehearsing outside his door, a small smile on his face as you got the courage to knock, he was excited, maybe he could try to be your friend, his therapist said he needed it, maybe you wouldn’t recognize him and he could start new.

All that was thrown out the window when your eyes widened and your heart began to race faster as you saw him, obviously you knew him, he was the talk of the town at the moment.

“oh my god sorry! I’m y/n, i live right next door” you smiled softly, cocking your head in the direction of your apartment, the plate still in your hands and you wanted to cry because why hasn’t he grabbed the bread yet when i made it just for you.

“I didn’t know if you liked chocolate chip in your banana bread or not so i made it half with and half without i hope that okay” you continued, hoping he would take the hint and grab the plate from you. Thankfully he did and you sighed softly, glad that he took it.

“I uh- don’t really have an opinion” he stated, his lips pressed to a thin line for a second before he cracked a small smile at you, happily returning it.

“well let me know which you preferred” you laughed and he nodded.

“I’m James by the way” he said, placing the plate on a box next to him, “I’ll just got put this on a plate and I’ll give you yours back give me a second” he began and you quickly shook your head at him.

“Oh no! The plate is yours too! you can keep it” you grinned and his mouth opened a bit, no one was this nice to him besides steve. You were too kind, too caring and soft and he didn’t want to taint you or weigh you down with his baggage.

“oh uh, thank you” he cleared his throat, his mind racing and telling him to stop talking to you, leave you alone before he ruins your life like he ruins everything else. “It’s late so you should uh probably go” he started and you felt your stomach drop, part of you upset he didn’t try to talk to you more.

“oh yeah, sorry, have a good night! I hope you like the bread haha, if you need anything I’m right next door” you shot him a grin and he simply closed the door, a frown on your face as you walked to your apartment.

You let out a sigh before your eyes watered a bit. You were never gonna try and make friends again you told yourself, heading to your room to get your pjs and going to the restroom to shower.

Bucky could hear the music from your phone through the walls, they were thin enough to begin with but his super soldier hearing didn’t do him any favors. He could hear the rumble of your voice but he couldn’t make out the words as you sang.

Bucky smiled a little bit, you were so pretty and sweet. No one had even made him banana bread before, let alone make him half with chocolate chips and half without.

Bucky munched on the banana bread, deciding he liked the one with chocolate chips better. A smile on his face as he mindlessly watched his tv, thoughts only of the pretty girl next door.

You finished showering and quickly got changed, sitting on your couch and flipping through channels until settling on reruns of your favorite show. You were bored out of your mind and were about to head to sleep when a knock at the door scared you.

You grabbed your pepper spray from your bag and looked through the peep hole, letting out a sigh when you saw it was just bucky. You put the pepper spray back and rushed to open the door.

“hi bucky” you smiled and he pressed his lips into a thin line.

“I liked the chocolate chip one better” he spoke, looking at floor then at you. There was a smile painted on your face and you nodded.

“Guess I’ll have to make you more with chocolate chips huh” you joked and he smiled a bit before stopping himself.

“I’ll uh see you tomorrow” he spoke before heading back to his apartment and you smiled.

It was a little bit, but it was something.

The first week was pretty stagnant, not much conversation and just small waves from your end. The second week was better, he waved back at you and even gave you music recommendations. By the third week he was coming around more, telling you good morning and goodnight if you bumped into each other in the hall.

He helped you bring a pack of water up after seeing you struggle with the first one.

“I can- i can just help you with that if you want” he spoke from behind you, and you looked at him breathless.

“oh my god please” you sighed, he quickly took the waters from you and lifted them with ease, you stared at him in shock before opening the door to your apartment.

“You can just set it on the counter” you spoke, starting to take everything out of the grocery bags. “I’m uh i was gonna actually cook dinner tonight, if you want to come- not that you have to! I mean i can just give some to you and you don’t have to come over” you reasoned, rambling to the super soldier.

“I’m busy tonight actually” he spoke and you flushed red.

“Oh yeah no! Of course you being a hero in all, that’s fine! thanks for the water help” you smiled, he returned it before exiting and closing the door.

You scolded yourself, obviously he didn’t want to hang out with you god you were trying too hard.

By the time it hit a month and a half of bucky moving in you had given up, he seemed to be stuck in a funk, constantly brooding and avoiding you at all costs.

You baked some banana bread, adding extra chocolate chips and deciding to give him it and try to cheer him up, making get him out of his funk.

You knocked on his door and he opened it quickly. You smiled at the man and shoved the banana bread into his chest.

“I noticed you were upset and so i thought this would help, extra chocolate chips” you grinned as his face broke into a smile.

You turned to leave but Bucky grabbed your wrist, turning you around to face him.

“i- uh do you wanna come in?” He spoke, his voice wavering.

“I’d love to” you replied, following him into his apartment, a smile on your face as your eyes wandered.

“i know it’s not the best, your place is a lot more furnished” he spoke, setting the banana bread down on the kitchen counter.

“that’s okay, as long as you feel at home is all that matters” you said, smiling at him while he sliced the bread.

“I shouldn’t be doing this” he mumbled, “maybe you should go” he spoke, setting the knife down and looking at him.

“oh” was all you said, not knowing what to do.

“I’m just- fuck, look it’s not you i just” he cut himself off, sighing and squeezing his eyes shut for a second before opening them again.

“bucky it’s fine i can go” you whispered, setting a reassuring hand on his metal one.

He expected you to flinch, turn away at the cold feeling. But you didn’t. You kept your focus on him.

“I don’t want you to” he spoke softly, eyes locking on yours.

“i don’t want you to but you should, because I’m always ruining things, I’m always messing something up. Everyone i love or care about gets hurt- it’s like I’m some dark force that ruins anything good. I cant do that to you y/n” he finished, pulling away.

You debated on giving him space or wrapping your arms around him, you could tell what he needed more.

“I think you’re not as dark as you want people to believe” you spoke simply. Looking at the super soldier square in the eyes.

“You walk around brooding and acting like you hate everyone but in reality i think you’re too scared to let anyone in. You aren’t evil or dark. Youre insecure and scared, you just need someone to show they care but you don’t let anyone do that.”

Bucky looked at you in shock, not even Sam talked to him like that. Your eyes went wide as you realized everything you said.

“I’m sorry i don’t know where that came from- i can leave I’ll go i just- i just want you to know that I’m here, no matter what time it is I’m here” you mumbled, quickly leaving his apartment and going to yours.

Bucky stood there in shock, you were right. Everything you said was right. He was scared, he was terrified of letting someone in only to have them ripped from him. He didn’t want to run after you immediately, he had to think through his feelings.

He showered and changed into some comfy shorts and sitting on the floor next to his couch and turning on a soccer match.

His heart raced, brows furrowing as scenes as the winter soldier played over and over in his head. The sound of a gunshot in his dream made him shoot up. A thin line of sweat on his forehead had formed and he was panting.

He ran to the restroom, washing his face with cool water and listening to the faucet as his breathing steadied.

He checked the clock, 2:25 am. He threw on a cozy black henley and walked next door, he was scared. Knocking softly twice he waited for a second, his advanced hearing picking up on some shuffling inside.

You opened the door, a bat in hand that quickly fell to your side when you saw the state bucky was in.

“oh buck what happened? are you okay?” You asked, instinct taking over as you wrapped your arms around him, leading him to the couch.

“i had a nightmare” he whispered, eyes not leaving the floor.

“do you want to talk about it?” You asked, he shook his head and you nodded. You grabbed a fluffy blanket and handed it to him, giving him the controller to your tv and excusing yourself into the kitchen.

You made two cups of hot chocolate, adding extra marshmallows to his. You carried them carefully to the living room and set them on the table, pushing the one with more marshmallows towards him.

“maybe this’ll help you relax” you smiled and he thanked you, taking a sip. The two of you watching tv in silence, drinking hot chocolate and sitting close together.

By the time it was 3 am you were yawning, tired from your busy day. Guilt rushed over bucky, realizing he had woken you up and you had to be at work early.

“I’m sorry i should go it’s late and-” Bucky started, getting up and you stopped him, pulling him down softly.

“it’s okay, tomorrow’s Saturday” you smiled softly, his mouth forming into an ‘o’ shape.

“You don’t have to leave unless you want to, I’ll stay here for as long as you want” you assured him, placing your hand on his one more time and smiled, eyes soft and heart swelling.

You fell asleep watching tv, Bucky was wide awake, but the steady beat of your heart soon caused him to drift off not long after.

Something changed that night, Bucky became more comfortable around you, inviting you to dinner more and texting you when he didn’t see you. He even had made you banana bread, which he vowed never to do again because it turned out horribly.

You had it bad, you were so whipped for him and he was so whipped for you, both of you harboring a crush and neither of you realized.

It had been three months since bucky moved in, the last month and a half had been a blur. You and Bucky hanging out at any and every chance, going on walks together in the afternoon and even grocery shopping together. You had to museums and taken care of him after mission. You gave him hot chocolate after a nightmare and stayed with him until he fell asleep again.

Bucky helped you de stress, getting you away from paper work when you were too tired and getting you out of the house when you were cooped up during the weekends. He helped you become more confident, complimenting you any chance he got and getting shy around you.

Bucky had another nightmare, and as if instinct he got up, a frown on his face as he knocked twice softly on your door.

“‘M sorry doll” he whispered and you shook your head, holding his hand and leaving him into your room.

You were so tired, you had woke up at 6 am to get to work early after they called you in saying it was urgent. You had spent all day running around getting home later than usual. It was 9 pm by the time you were showered and having dinner.

You had called one of your friends, catching up with them since you missed their call earlier, talking until 2 am when you couldn’t keep your eyes open any longer.

By the time your head hit the pillow you were out, you didn’t know how you even heard buckys soft knocking. But sure enough you got up, and let him in, you lead him to your room without second thought.

You gently shoved him on the bed, moving to the other side and snuggling back under your sheets. “gnight” was all you said before passing out again.

Bucky was shocked, did you trust him that much? Did he really mean this much to you? You were exhausted and yet you still took care of him. His heart melted and he quietly took off his shoes, holding them in his hand as he walked to the couch, laying down and covering himself with the blanket you had given him the first time he came.

Morning came and you came out of your room, Bucky sound asleep on your couch, a fond smile on your face. You began to make the two do you breakfast, as quiet as you could so that you didn’t wake him, luckily he slept through it all.

You shook him softly, whispering for him to wake up when you finished, slowly he got up. Rubbing his eyes as you told him to go sit at table to eat his breakfast.

The two of you eating and chatting, both still tired.

“I didn’t sleep in your bed, i know you took me but i don’t know i felt like you were just too tired to think” he told you, your face burned from how hard you were blushing.

“I did what?” You asked, eyes wide. Bucky only laughed and shook his head.

“I figured you were just too tired to think of anything else so i took myself to the couch” he smiled and you giggled.

“did you sleep well at least?” You questioned and he nodded.

“not as well as i do with you by my side” he smirked and you chocked on your water, coughing at his statement.

“oh my god you- it’s 10 am can i please get a warning” you shrieked and he sat there confused.

“I’m sorry?” He said, both amused and confused.

“I’ll wash the plates!” You spoke quickly, getting up and taking his plate and heading towards the sink.

“I have to go, i have a thing with Sam today” he sighed and you nodded, “okay have fun, good luck and be safe buck” you spoke and he smiled, heading out the door, excited to see you again later.

“No sam like i like her” Bucky spoke, walking besides the man as he looked at something on his phone.

“oh you mean like, like like her” Sam teased, keeping a straight face.

“god i hate you” bucky groaned, regretting ever saying anything to the man.

“well if you like her why don’t you cook her some dinner, or take her to a park for a picnic or something” he shrugged.

“woo her with your charming cyborg mind” Sam smirked and Bucky glared at him.

“i cant- i don’t know how to and plus she probably doesn’t even like me” Bucky began and Sam stopped in his tracks.

“she makes you banana bread, hot chocolate with extra marshmallows and sleeps on the couch to keep you company after you have a nightmare” he spoke, looking at Bucky like he was crazy.

“yes” Bucky stated, brows furrowed.

“oh my god you idiot obviously she likes you” was all Sam said before continuing to walk.

Buckys mind kept drifting to you, did you like him too? Maybe he should take you on a date, you talked about ice skating one time maybe he should take you to a rink, or maybe a museum.

You were exhausted by the time you finished washing dishes, you had barely been sleeping this past couple weeks, always trying to stay awake just in case bucky needed you.

You didn’t mind it, you loved that he trusted you enough to seek comfort in you. Watching movies with him at night to help get his mind off things was your favorite thing, sharing popcorn and eventually he would fall asleep. He was finally getting rest and that’s all that mattered to you.

Your phone dinged as you watched some tv, a text from Bucky.

hi y/n

You smiled, heart pounding and stomach doing flips, you replied after a minute. You didn’t want to seem too eager.

hi buck! i hope all is well w you and sam :]

Buckys heart rate sped up at the site of your text, nervous as he typed out the message.

You saw the three bubbles appear, then disappear and then appear again. Was he okay?

“okay read this” Bucky shoved his phone towards Sam, he nodded in approval.

“no no too much right? let me change it” Bucky shook his head, deleting the text before starting a new one.

“Bucky just-” Sam began but was cut off by Bucky shoving his phone in his face once more.

“Yes bucky it’s good now send it” Sam groaned, just wanting his friend to finally go on a (successful) date.

“I’m gonna change th-” Bucky started, but Sam was faster, snatching the phone out of his hand and pressing send.

“there! now please tell me you know what to wear on a date” Sam pleaded, the silence was the only reply Sam needed.

I was wondering if you wanted to go on a date with me. I think you’re amazing and wonderful, please let me know- i would’ve waited to ask you in person but i can’t stop thinking

Your face flushed and a smile broke onto your face. Quickly typing out a response.

I would love you bucky

to**** i would love to

You groaned as you read over your texts, god he was gonna back out now, surely. This is the same man who took a month to wave back at his own neighbor for fucks sakes, now you just accidentally told him you loved him?

I’ll pick you up at 6:30 doll :-)

You bit your lip, smiling and jumping around in glee, you could hardly wait.

“okay if it’s just a museum date how about you wear this, and that” Sam spoke, smiling at how Bucky looked in his outfit.

“I’m gonna take her ice skating instead i think” Bucky spoke, and Sam nodded, looking in his closet.

“I’m not letting you near any of my sweaters” Sam spoke and Bucky rolled his eyes.

“i have something back home to wear, thank you Sam” he smiled, pulling him in for a hug. Sam smiled, happy that Bucky was finally finding peace.

Bucky quickly got ready, hopping in the shower and putting on a t shirt and pulling his black Henley over it along with some nice pants.

He checked his clock, 5:47. Enough time for flowers, he rushed out, grabbing everything he needed and heading for the florist.

He remembered how two weeks ago you told him your favorite flowers, gushing about them in your 3 am sleepy haze.

By the time he arrived at your doorstep and hesitated.

“okay, okay, i can do this. just knock, flowers and ice skating!” He smiled to himself, remembering how you were just as nervous when you first brought him banana bread.

He knocked twice on the door, you opened it with a smile. Buckys eyes went wide and his words got stuck in his throat.

You looked beautiful.

“I didn’t know where we were going so i kinda just put on something somewhat casual, i hope that’s okay! If not i can change” you rambled and Bucky blinked rapidly.

“You look beautiful doll” was all he said you blushed, smiling and nodding.

“i got you some flowers” he spoke, nervous to see your reaction.

“you remembered?” you whispered and he nodded,

“how could i not?” your face was burning as you took the bouquet from him, placing them in a vase with some water quickly.

The two of you left the apartment, nervous and giddy to see where the night would take you.

The ice rink was packed, something neither of you expected, and 30 minutes into the line YPU were yawning.

“I’m sorry doll i didn’t know it would be packed” he mumbled and you shook your head.

“i don’t mind I’m just a bit tired is all” you smiled, yawning one more time and apologizing to Bucky.

“Cmon i know what we can do instead” he smiled and you looked at him confused, but he quickly took your hand in his and pulled you out of line and back to his car.

The drive was silent, soft 40s music coming from the speaker as you headed to wherever bucky was taking you.

Before you knew it you were back your apartments, you were confused to say the least but decided to stay quiet and let Bucky guide you.

“Wait here” Bucky smiled, running to his apartment before coming back out with a backpack and taking your hand once again.

“I like to come up here when i need some time alone or just to think” he spoke, clicking on the top floor in the elevator.

You followed him out of the elevator, around the corner and up some stairs, and then you were on the roof. Bucky smiled at you as you saw the sunset over the buildings around you.

You were so busy taking in the view you didn’t see Bucky setting up the picnic infront of you, gasping at the small setup he managed to make.

“It’s not much but-” he started and you shook your head.

“It’s just enough” you whispered, sitting across from him.

The two of you talked until nightfall, smiling the whole time and giggling at each other’s anecdotes.

You were laying on Buckys chest, listening to him talk about the constellations as pointing them out with his metal hand, his other hand was softly running through your hair.

“-and that one is Ursa Minor, the little bear” he continued, listening to your heartbeat as it steadied. You had fallen asleep. Bucky smiled, happy that he could finally return the favor you had done for him every night.

He moved as quickly and quietly as he could, packing up everything into his backpack again. As he headed to pick you up you moved, opening your eyes slightly.

“did i fall sleep?” You mumbled and Bucky smiled, picking you up swiftly and you giggled.

“love when you treat me like a princess” Bucky smiled at your words.

“good thing I’m gonna treat you like one for as long as your mine” he replied, you blushed, fully waking up.

“yours huh?” You smirked and he blushed.

“You can put me down in awake” you smiled and he set you down gently.

“will you be my girl? I promise I’ll treat you like a princess, even promise to never bake again” Bucky smiled, stepping closer to you.

“you make a tough bargain barnes, i think it’s a yes” you smiled, pulling him by the hem of his shirt and placing your lips on his.

The two of you smiled into the kiss, breaking into a fit of laughter halfway through.

“why are you laughing?” You smiled, and he put his hand up in defense.

“you started laughing first!” He defended, pulling you in for another kiss before you could argue back.

You walked to your apartment hand in hand and in comfortable silence.

“I had a really good time tonight bucky” you smiled, turning to the super soldier.

“I had a great time too doll” he grinned and you turned around, unlocking your door. Bucky was already walking to his door when you stopped him.

“You arent gonna come in?” You questioned and he smiled, nodding and following you in quickly.

The rest of the night was spent cuddled up on the couch, hot chocolates in hand and watching your favorite movies on tv.

The two of you fell asleep before the first movie could even finish, you had never felt more well rested in your life. Bucky didn’t have a single nightmare and was the most relaxed he’d been in 80 years.

[lavishedinjimin]

all the good girls go to hell

— synopsis: The Angels made a deal with Jeon Jungkook, the son of Lucifer, to help them bring Y/n back to her good, prim and proper self. Even though Jungkook grants the atrocious plan, he leaves a lesson that no one should give their trust to a wicked devil like him.

↳ pairing: jungkook x f. reader

↳ genre: smut, very slight angst if you squint hard enough

↳ rating: m/18+

↳ word count: 10k

↳ warnings: religious themes, heaven and hell, angels, devils (this fic is not a correct representation of these figures and is purely fictional), alcohol intake, cursing, hard dom jk, daddy! jk, fingering, multiple orgasms, orgasm denial, squirting, unprotected sex, breathplay, spanking, face fucking, filthy dirty talk, rough sex, jungkook and his demon cock ehe

a/n: title is inspired by billie eilish’s song all the good girls go to hell. her title inspired me to write this fic! please ignore if you find any errors <3

“You’re not good enough.” 

“You look so pathetic, really.”

“Can you at least try to look hot?” 

“This is why no one likes you.” 

These words will forever haunt you until the day you die. 

It wasn’t your fault that you were raised very strictly, your overly-protective parents treating you like some kind of rare treasure that no one, no man, can touch. The fact that your parents still had to drive you home from school even at an age like this always irritated you to the brim of your existence. So now you can’t even have the freedom, the life of a normal young girl can have. 

Being raised strictly with a heavy-handed family – not to mention religious, too – has taken a toll on your mental health. There’s always the feeling of pressure wherever you go and whatever you do. The fear of not succeeding and disappointing your mom and dad is the worst feeling, like the Devil punching your gut repeatedly, as many times as he likes. 

Plus, some students at your school know you for your lack of “personality”, the boring one, the killjoy. You can’t even refute because it was all true. You never experienced fun, parties, how to have interesting conversations, how to interact with a large crowd, all because of your parents being so uptight in you. 

“Y/n!” The high-pitched voice of your mother calls from downstairs, and you were quick to scurry outside your room and find where she was sitting on the couch. “Yes, mom?” You say. 

She was dressed in a royal-blue dress that goes up to her knees, her hair fixed perfectly and the hairspray is clearly doing a great job of keeping her updo in place. She grabs her purse while your dad walks into view, dressed up in a neat suit. “We’re leaving for our business trip, Y/n. Didn’t I tell you that?” 

“Ah.” You sort of forgot about that. 

Quickly nodding your head, you force a fake smile that you know all too well, “Yes.” 

She gives you a weird glance before she fixes her makeup in a mirror, and your dad decides to continue for her. “We’ve hired a nanny to look after you, so that you won’t go out and about going behind our backs—”

“But dad! I really don’t need someone to babysit me,” You scoff. You weren’t a child anymore, what are they thinking! “I’m an adult. I can handle myself. Don’t you trust me?” 

Trust. Something they don’t have with you, whether they admit it or not. 

Your dad just sighs deeply and starts to walk closer to you. He places a hand on your shoulder as he looks straight into your eyes, giving you an authoritarian look. “Y/n, just do as you’re told and be a good daughter.” 

“I’ve always been one,” you scorn. 

“A good daughter doesn’t talk back.” Your mother retorts. 

This is why you can never argue with them. They never let you speak your own opinion or have your own voice. 

Your parents left exactly at 5 PM as they went on their flight to Madrid, leaving the house all to yourself only for tonight.

It was the next day, and you were sitting on the dining table, eating your cereal peacefully as you watched Netflix on your phone – until the doorbell rings. 

You stand up and quickly make your way to the front door, pouting when you already know that it is the person that was supposed to look after you. 

This is ridiculous. 

“Hello!” A bright, short middle aged woman appears standing on the doorway, her bright energy startling you. “Y/n! I’m May, nice to meet you!” She lifts her hand in front for a handshake, and you chuckle nervously, accepting it. “I’m here to look after you for ten days, hm?” 

“Uh, ah, yeah. C-Come in!” You tried to sound as positive and energized as you could to match her own energy, but you couldn’t. You step aside to let her in, pulling her luggage with her and she immediately takes up the design of the house. She was nodding her head, her arms crossed together while you accompanied her little journeys throughout the whole ground floor. You found her weird. 

“Uh, come follow me, my dad says you’ll be staying here at the guest room —” 

“Wonderful! I thought I was sleeping on the couch!” She claps her hands, excited that she has her own room. 

You look at her with big, shocked eyes, yet you can’t say anything. 

“O-Okay…” you mumbled, “Here,” you helped her open the door and she immediately set her things up. “May?” 

“Yes, my dear?” She stops unpacking her bags to look up at you. “I’ll be at the kitchen, okay? If y-you wanna ask anything, I’m right over there.” 

“Ah, that’s okay, Y/n. Your mother told me everything I need to know. Your bedtime is at eight and no midnight snacks!” 

Your heart drops down to the floor as you immediately encountered a wave of emotions. Why did it matter?! Why did your mom had to apply all these stupid rules when she’s not even around? You thought at the start that you’ll have some kind of freedom when your parents aren’t here, thinking that your nanny might be easier, but perhaps not. 

“Okay.” You say simply. 

How else can you prove to people that you can be better? You're sick of everyone seeing you as the boring one, but your parents were the only thing that was keeping you from having fun. So you decide to be a little risky. 

Step one: Sneak out the house. 

Isn't that what people your age do? Usually they sneak out to party, to go hang out with their friends and have the time of their life. But you had none, no ‘best friend’, but a couple of lunch friends here and there. 

“I should try clubbing.” You mumble to yourself as you sit down on the plush comfort of your mattress. Until you hear your phone chimes, signalling a text. You grab your phone from the bedside table and frown when you see who the text was from. 

Mom: Remember to go to church later, Y/n. 

You didn't reply, instead, it got you thinking. 

Nothing will happen if you skip church, right? You've always attended Mass every Sunday with your parents, so there's absolutely nothing wrong with skipping at least once.

Besides, you need to plot your plans for tonight!

~

“What is this girl doing?” Armaros says in a deep whisper, his well-shaped eyebrows furrowing deeply while he watches Y/n on her phone, laying down on her bed as if church isn't just five minutes away from starting. 

Armaros rushes to the other side of the room to get a better view of her human who lays on her stomach, a white wisp of smoke trailing behind him. He shakes his head, crossing his arms together in front of his chest. “Y/n, Y/n,” he tuts, “What are you doing?!” 

He decides to step forward and reaches forward for his hand to caress the crown of your head. He chuckles when he sees your eyes expand in a quick second, your body abruptly sitting up straight from the tingling feeling in your neck. Your hairs stand up, a chill running down your spine. 

This was Armaros’ way of mustering his presence onto you. Your dad always taught that whenever you suddenly feel a chilling sensation out of nowhere, it means that your guardian angel is there with you and trying to send you a message. 

And you clearly know what he's trying to say. 

There was a slight feeling of guilt – uneasiness, even. But no. You've already decided that you weren't going to follow your old routine. 

Armaros’ jaw drops when you don't move from your position on the bed, only making yourself comfortable even further. ”Don’t you dare skip church...” he slowly whispers to himself. But he quickly shakes his head side to side, trying to be optimistic, “It's just one time. Just one time.” 

Time passes by faster than you think, you sink your teeth down on your bottom lip, chewing on it as you try to Google clubs near you. It was ridiculous, feeling so overwhelmed from all of the options the Internet is showing you. 

There was a generous list of bars and clubs with different ratings. It was a humane decision to choose the best one, right? So you went for a nightclub called ‘Soap Seoul’. Although, you feel your stomach churn when you scroll through the images attached to it; seeing all of the strange blue and red LED lights, big and tight crowds, and an HD picture of their bar. The bar was long and almost occupied the width of the whole club. You don't even know if you can stand such a place like that. 

But no. You can't back out now! You had to show yourself and to others that you can have some fun too. 

~ 

The club opens tonight at 8 pm, letting yourself have two hours to prepare. Rummaging through your garments of clothing, you try to find an appropriate outfit.

“I have nothing!” you whined, eyebrows furrowing in dismay. All you had were simple t-shirts and countless skinny jeans and leggings. Your dresses were almost knee-length and suitable for church – not for a nightclub! 

Armaros stands at a distance, shaking his head at you. 

Until, you heard a loud knock on the door, “Y/n!” May's voice shouts from the other side of the room, “Dinner's ready!” 

Oh no. 

Quickly opening the door, you stared at her with big, worried eyes. “May! I-uhh, I-I’m not gonna stay for dinner…” you mumbled, looking at the ground. 

“Oh, why is that?” she asks, a faint sad tone in her voice. You felt so sad and regretful that you didn't say anything to her because she already cooked your dinner. 

“I-I have plans for tonight,” you hold your hands behind your back, slightly getting embarrassed. 

“Are you going out with your friends?”

“Y-Yeah!” You lie. You've never lied before. 

“Ah, I understand. Have you told your mom?” 

She doesn't have to know. 

“Yup.” 

And there it was again, the chills in your neck appeared while your arm and leg hairs stood up. Armaros touches your scalp, desperate to seek your attention and bring you back to your old, good self. The angel didn't like that you were lying, for he was perpetually accustomed to your good deeds. It was making him anxious for what's about to come. 

But you ignored his message. May nods when you told her that she can have the food to herself. 

You feel a pang of guilt rush through your body when you shut the door behind you, your heartbeat suddenly racing faster. The nervousness in you made your head hurt. Is this the right thing to do? No. It wasn't. But you had to show people that you can be different. Will it be worth it? Of course. 

Thankfully, you spot a white dress that you've never worn before. It was a gift from your cousins that was supposed to be another addition to your collection of church dresses but it was too short for your liking. 

“Hm, maybe this will work…” you quietly mumble to yourself.

You tried the piece of clothing on, carefully examining your reflection in the full-length mirror. The hem of the skirt falls right above your mid-thigh, too high for your usual comfort but for the sake of dressing up for a nightclub — there was no problem. The dress was snug, hugging your body so that it accentuates your curves.

The dress was plain white and was relatively simple. You don't really know what people usually wear for nightclubs but you were certain that dresses were a part of the code. 

You looked for your black three-inch heel that you last wore during your highschool graduation, slipping it in carefully. Doing a little bit of makeup and applying a thin layer of lip gloss, you grabbed a purse and walked out of your room. 

“May, please don't wait for me, okay?” you say after walking past her. 

“W-Wait, I'm supposed to–”

“It's okay. I'll be okay.”

“She's not gonna be okay!” Armaros declares, kneeling on one knee before Archangel Michael – the protector and the spiritual warrior, as he mentions Y/n's recent mischiefs.

After you've been to the nightclub the first day, you've never stopped. You became addicted. 

Sometimes you don't even tell May that you're going out, you just sneak out of the window and let May worry about you. You've happened to know how to drink as you get wasted every single night, hanging around with people that you don't know, people that are a bad influence on your good side. These past few days had you acting up like you’ve never before. You longed for alcohol and the feeling of it numbing your nerves, and there’s not a day where you didn’t get drunk.

Armaros’ power wasn't enough to stop you. Every single day he's been drying his best to send signals, to make you feel certain ways and speak to your consciousness that what you are doing is by far dangerous and wrong. But you never listened. 

You've skipped church, stopped talking to God, ignoring your parents’ phone calls, not doing your homework just because you're busy either getting drunk or making out with someone at the club. It's like you have been addicted to misbehaving. 

But for you, you thought you’re doing the right thing. 

“Armaros, are you doubting your powers?” Archangel Michael replies, running his fingertips along the sharp blade of his sword. 

“N-No, but, nothing seems to work. She's been ignoring my calls for almost two weeks. I just want the best for her.” Armaros’ voice fades at the end of his sentence. He was speaking with such sincerity because he really cares for Y/n. He truly loves her. “Why is she doing this?” He asks for help.

“Because, my dear, she's trying to prove something she's not for other people.”

“What?” 

Archangel Michael laughs quietly, staring at him endearingly. He points his sword at him, “She obviously tries to be immoral to fit in. She's rarely praying to God like she used to, rarely respecting the people around her. Ever since humans bullied Y/n for being herself – she starts to change. But the question is…”

He walks around Armaros, his eyes never leaving his. “Is this making her happy?” 

Armaros lowers his head and shakes his head. “I don’t know.” 

The Archangel grins and returns his sword back on the scabbard attached to his belt. 

“If I can't warn her to stop, then who else can?” The angel asks. 

Michael lifts an eyebrow up, crossing his arms together as he stands right in front of him. His mouth draws into a slow smirk, a hint of playfulness in his eyes as if a lightbulb appeared on top of his head. 

“You wanna have some fun, Armaros?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Stand up, stand up.” Armaros quickly obeys his superior’s command. The Archangel places a hand on his right shoulder, preparing to speak. 

“I have an idea. We call Jeon Jungkook up and–” 

“No! Absolutely not! I will not allow Y/n to come face to face with the son of Lucifer!” Armaros bellows, instinctively pushes Michael's hand away from him. 

“Armaros! It's just an idea!” Michael chuckles, spreading his arms to the side as he shakes his head. “And besides, I have to ask permission from our Highness anyway.” 

“And what will he do? Taunt her? Provoke Y/n to be more sinful?” Y/n's guardian angel asks, referring to Jungkook. “We both know how manipulative and cunning he can be!”

“No, no. We'll make a deal with him, of course! No devil will do anything without receiving something in return.” 

“This idea of yours, not to be rude, but is really out of this world.”

Archangel Michael snorts from the out of the blue pun. 

“Do not be afraid. If our Lord agrees to our plan, I'll be watching. I always will. Give me your trust, Armaros.”

Armaros sighs deeply, yet smiles up at him right after. “Okay, I trust you.” 

“May, stop it,” you mutter angrily, pulling your arm away from her hold. May tries to block your way from going outside the house but you abruptly push her to the side. 

“Y/n! Your mom told you that–” 

“Told me what?! That I’m being independent? Unruly? That I should just stay home? I don’t give a fuck anymore, May. I’d rather hang out with friends than stay here and do nothing!” You bark at her. She was smaller than you and you were definitely giving off that intimidating vibes that you wanted to show. She isn’t the one wearing the pants in this house. You are. 

“Y/n, I will not tolerate this behavior!” May snaps, eyes glaring at you with her hands balled up into fists on her sides. 

Rolling your eyes, you let out a sour chuckle, “You sound like my mom.” 

May sighs deeply, the tiredness in her voice evident, “I’m just trying to keep you safe, Y/n. Just listen to me.” 

“I’m an adult. I can keep myself safe. Now, let me go and don’t wait for me.” 

“Y/n!” 

“Bye May! Have a nice sleep!” 

“Y/n! Where the fuck are you?!” Emilia, one of the new friends you've met no longer than three days ago shouts through the phone as loud, blazing music muffled her voice. “Sophia and I are waiting for you! Get your ass over here!”

“I'm almost there, save me a drink already!” you giggle, looking out from the taxi’s window. 

Sophia snatches the phone out of Emilia’s hand to speak to you, “Y/n, you still remember the bet we made, right?” 

“Of course! It's not a huge deal, c'mon now.” You roll your eyes, faking a laugh. 

“We'll see!” Emilia giggles. 

The driver drops you in front of the nightclub and you throw him a couple of dollars. Stepping out of the car, your high heels clicking on the cement. Upon entering the place, you were immediately greeted with your friends. They were both wearing a tight dress – glittery red and silver – whilst you wore a black one that reached down to your middle thigh. You bought the dress only a day ago, special thanks to your Amazon Prime account . 

“Hey! Here, drink this,” Sophia hands you a single malt whiskey and you swiftly drown it down your throat without any problem. You reminisce back to your first day where you can’t even take a sip of beer without gagging. Now look where you are. 

“Ahh fuck, that tastes good,” you mumble through gritted teeth. 

“Why are you late tonight, Y/n?” Emilia asks as she leads you to the bar to order more alcohol. Her high pitched voice mixing with the loud music,”You know it's always 9 PM. Sharp.” 

You breathe out heavily as you watch Sophia pour three shots of straight vodka into a shot glass. She distributes the beverage to the two of you. 

“Well, uh–” 

“What?” Emilia snaps.

“I couldn't find a goddamn cab, that's why!” you hide your falseness with laughter, hoping they won't sense your lie. 

“Alright anyway, let’s go get wasted and you, Y/n – will be our first player.” Emilia smirks as she crosses her arms together. She analyzes your body, eyeing you up and down. You didn’t like it, and you felt worried. 

Your eyebrows furrow, confused and slightly offended, “What, why me?” You take a sip of your newly-ordered beer, trying to get comfortable on the plush-covered stool. 

“Because,” Sophia answers for her, “we need to know your… capacities.” 

You snort, “Capacities of what? My capacity of having to get into a m-man’s bed? Pffft… easy!” 

Sophia’s forehead furrows, glancing at Emilia with a knowing look before focusing her attention back to you. “Sure. Anyway, let’s have fun first and then…” she leans closer to you, her face inches away from yours. You feel your face redden in embarrassment, “And then you can choose your man.” 

It wasn’t that bad. It isn’t bad dancing around the dance floor, beer in hand, as you danced all your worries away. Emilia and Sophia were out there – somewhere, but you didn’t care about them at this moment. You let your body go with the beat of the loud EDM music, holding your hands up in the air as you whipped your head left to right. You had a huge smile on your face, the alcohol kicking in like it was meant for your body to consume. 

Sweaty bodies were bumping each other from left and right, and you for sure stepped on someone’s toe with your pumps. Nevertheless, you didn’t care. You were having your fun. 

It was until the song changed from upbeat to a more sensual, heart-pumping song from the loud bass. As if there was a switch inside you, you turned into a sultry mess. 

Wasted. You were wasted like hell. 

Your eyes turn into little slits as you look around the dance floor to try and find someone to play with. Taking a huge sip of your drink, your throat burns yet you tried to ignore it. 

“Ah-hah!” you giggle, walking – or should we say, stumbling – towards a guy with black hair parted in the middle, nicely dressed in a black button up tucked in some skinny jeans. The man locks eyes with you, licking his plump lips as his eyes rake your body. 

“Hey there, gorgeous,” he smirks, making you blush in red as he holds your waist and tugs you closer to him. The song in the background was helping you a lot to get into that seductive, sexy mood that you planned to have. 

“Hey,” you smile up at him, “I’m Y/n.” 

“What a pretty name for a pretty lady.” He starts swaying your body to the beat, going along with you. “I’m Seokjin. Nice to meet you.” 

Seokjin tugs your body closer until he holds the back of your head with one hand, making you look deep into his dark eyes. “Y-You’re a new face,” you slur, “You don’t belong here.” 

Unexpectedly, your eyes grow big when Seokjin throws his head back as he laughs almost hysterically. “What?” you question. 

The man slightly leans down until his face draws near to yours, and you can immediately smell the alcohol in his breath. You didn’t judge though, you probably had beer-breath too. 

“Baby girl…” Seokjin suddenly speaks deeply, making your heart jump from the sudden change in his voice. There was a sultry look in his eyes that made it hard for you to keep eye contact. “Baby it’s you who doesn’t seem to belong. You don’t know who I am.” 

“Well y-you don’t know me e-either!” You try to retaliate, although it was messed up with your embarrassing stuttering.  

“You really wanna know?” he whispers, his lips right against your lips, almost touching yours. You couldn’t breathe properly, wanting to pull away but his intoxicating scent was forcing you to him. 

You nod your head, not trusting your voice. 

“I own this place, baby.” 

You almost tossed your cup right across the room from his sudden confession, totally not expecting such a young-looking man to own such a place like this. Your eyes expand, body staying still. 

’Wait! Be sexy… be sexy…’ you thought to yourself after an awkward five seconds of silence. 

You decide to chuckle, biting your bottom lip slowly as you draw yourself nearer to him. He lifts a brow up in surprise, wrapping his arms around your hips and he closes the distance between the two of you. 

“Really? Well then,” you mutter, “I want you to own me too.” 

“Oh, finally. Someone straightforward.” 

“Well I – oh!” Seokjin takes you by surprise when he quickly tugs your arm and leads you to the second floor of the club. You haven’t been in this area before, looking so luxurious and well decorated. Although what shocks you is the series of doors that passes through a long, wide hallway. 

“Seok...Seokjin,” you whisper, but he looks at you with a smirk, a playful glint in his eyes. 

“C’mon baby,” he opens a door and walks you inside, locking it behind him. “Let’s have a little fun.” 

Let’s have a little fun. 

Yeah. I should. 

This is fun, right? 

Before you can even process things, Seokjin shoves your body to a wall as his hands start to wander down your sides. With flushed cheeks, you look at him like you’ve just seen a ghost but he clearly doesn’t mind, grinding his hips into yours. 

“Mmm, what a cute babe I have in front of me,” he groans, leaning forward to pepper wet, gentle kisses all over your neck and down to your shoulders. 

Something feels off. 

“Y/n, right?” he asks, his forehead furrows and you nod. “Can I kiss you?”

Your heart starts to rapidly pump inside your chest, feeling as if it’ll burst at any minute. An uncomfortable feeling starts to overwhelm your system, sensing your palms getting sweaty. You can’t look at his eyes, looking anywhere but him. 

“Uh, o-okay,” you straighten your back as you try your best to look confident. 

This is the perfect opportunity to tell your friends. Having sex with someone like him will absolutely impress Emilia and Sophia. 

Seokjin chuckles, shrugging, “Alright then.” And without any warning, he throws you on the bed and he quickly hovers above your body. 

“Mmph–!” he immediately presses his lips into yours before you can even react to everything that had just happened. He caresses your cheeks with both hands, his lips moving softly with yours. You try your best to keep up with him and his pace, but you can’t. There was something stopping you from giving him your all. Seokjin grunts nevertheless, humping you. 

Seokjin’s right hand snakes down to grab the hem of your dress as he teasingly pulls the fabric up, then lets it snap back down. There was a weird feeling inside your stomach, and it did not feel good at all. 

His hand slowly starts creeping up your leg, and that’s where you couldn’t hold it back. 

“Mmm, n-no,” you mewl, pushing him away from you. Seokjin stares down at you with a frown, head tilted to the side. 

“Y/n?” 

Rapid heart rate, the back of your neck sweating, and chills all over your body occur all at the same time. You were panicking. 

“I-I…” immediately you stand up from the bed, hiking your stupid short dress down as much as you can. “S-Sorry,” furiously shaking your head from side to side, you stumble your way to the door. 

“Y/n, wait!” Seokjin yells, confused yet he felt sorry at the same time. “Let’s talk about it!” 

“No,” you whisper. You can’t do this anymore. There was no energy left in your body to talk, to process what just happened, to stand in this fucking club. Home. All you were thinking about was going home. 

You twist the doorknob open, trying to catch your breath as much as you can but you feel like you were going to pass out any minute. Making your way down the stairs, you run as fast as you can towards the exit of the nightclub yet a person catches your arm. 

“Y/n!” Your eyes widen when Emilia and Sophia stop you, observing your state. “What’s wrong with you?” 

“No…” you breathe tirelessly, “c-can’t do it…” 

“You failed?” Emilia snaps as she leans her body on one hip, resting her hands there. She looks at you with disgust, “But we saw the guy that you’re with! He was hot!” 

Sophia snorts, smirking as she stares at you sourly, “Proves our point. You’re nothing, Y/n. You had such an easy job, the guy’s already all over you and you just had to throw him? Where is he, let me get with him myself.” Sophia struts away, heels clicking as she flips her long hair over her shoulder, leaving you with Emilia. 

“What can I say, Y/n,” she smiles menacingly, the corners of her eyes crinkling, “You can never be like us.” 

Your whole body felt heavy, heavy like you were carrying a boulder behind your back. This isn’t what you had planned at all, everything was going so well until this! Your eyes started welling up with tears, blurring your sight. You had to go. 

Without saying a word, you quickly run away to the exit, ignoring Emilia’s insensitive laugh. 

What went wrong? Why did you feel that way? Negative thoughts were clouding your mind as you cried and cried to your poor, soaked pillow. 

Maybe you are just not enough. Perhaps you’re not meant to be like this. 

It was fun the first time around, and you were actually enjoying yourself. But the days passed and you sadly weren't doing this for your own pleasure anymore, but for the validation of other people. 

You should’ve stopped Seokjin from touching you when it clearly made you uncomfortable. There was a line and he crossed it, but you erased that line so you can finally say that you’ve slept with someone. But you guessed it wasn’t that easy. 

Grabbing your phone, you ignored all of the rude messages Emilia has sent you, blocking her and Sophia’s number. You turned off your phone, throwing it somewhere on the ground without care before you switched off your lamp. There was never a time that you’ve cried yourself to sleep, but tonight was your first. 

“And what do I get in return for this deal?” Jeon Jungkook purrs with a low, dark tone, crossing his legs together as he sits on his father’s fire-blazing throne. Even though he has his own throne for himself, thrones on fire were way cooler. He scans the frightened angel from head to toe through the strands that fell in front of his eyes. 

“The A-Archangel says you will obtain a soul. A soul that is longing for hell.” Armaros stutters as he tries to keep eye contact with the devil’s hard glare. 

Jungkook chuckles, hanging his head low. “You mean to tell me…” he starts to stand up and walks towards the angel. Armaros tries his best to keep his guard up and stand as tall as possible. 

Jungkook circles around him, arms crossed while his right hand plays with his bottom lip, “That I should convince this little girl to prevent doing bad, bad things to stop her from going to hell?” He laughs hysterically. “That’s quite… an unnatural job for a devil, isn’t it? It’s completely the opposite of what i’m supposed to do. Tell Michael that his plan is utter bullshit.”

Armaros takes a deep sigh, closing his eyes for a brief second before replying. “Firstly, Y/n is not a little girl. And second, this job is easy. You have the skill to persuade humans to sin – what’s hard with doing the opposite? Besides, you’ll obtain a soul either way.” 

His words made Jungkook ponder and deliberate with himself. He stops in front of Armaros and shows him his signature imposing smile. “I can have my way with the girl, right?” He bites his lip, “Anyway I want?” 

This made Armaros’ eyes go wide, mouth opening but no words seem to come out properly, “I-I… w-well, um… yes? Yes? P-Perhaps? Just don’t do anything bad to her.” 

Jungkook scoffs, running his long tongue over his teeth as he smirks, “Define bad, Mr. Angel.” 

“You know… hurt her.” He gulps.

The devil squints his eyes, absolutely loving Armaros’ reactions. “Oh, don’t worry. I’m not gonna kill her, if that’s what you mean.” 

“I’m done with this conversation.” Armaros quickly chirps as he unfolds his large, white wings. “Remember what your main goal is, Jungkook. I’m counting on you.” 

Jungkook stops him before he flies back up. “Armaros…” he says, dragging his name long in his tongue. Armaros looks at him, eyes impatient, arms crossed together. 

“You know I’m a devil, right?” 

The angel chuckles, scoffing, “Oh, I know that alright.” He scorns, eyeing Jungkook up and down. Although the devil in front of him looks intimidating and his eyes are jet black, Armaros keeps his calm. “I’m only following orders. I didn’t agree with The Archangel in the first place.” 

“Do you know what devils do to… humans?” 

Armaros nods fully. 

“And what I might do to… that precious little girl?” Jungkook growls deeply, walking closer to him. He tilts his head down, looking at him through his lashes, “There’s a huge chance that I might not control myself when I see her.” 

“What do you mean?” 

Suddenly, black smoke appears from Jungkook’s right hand, summoning something beside him. The smoke appears to subside and at once, Y/n’s appearance can be seen through the thin air. Jungkook rests his hips on one side, twirling his hand so that her image spins around. 

“This is Y/n, right?” Jungkook studies your face, watching you read a book inside your room. “I’ve never seen someone so beautiful before.” 

“Jeon Jungkook!” Armaros bellows, his tone loud yet sprinkled with fear. 

“I’m just saying, Angel. You can’t stop me from trying to do devilish things to her.” Jungkook smirks, prodding his tongue on the inside of his cheek. “You might have to reconsider this deal of yours if you don’t want me to have my way with that pretty little girl,” He taunts, already warning Armaros.

“Jungkook,” Armaros’ nerves seem to heat up, slowly getting irritated although he tries to calm himself. He looks down, shaking his head as he pinches the bridge of his nose in annoyance. “There’s no point in doing that. You think she wants to have an affair with someone like you?” 

The devil laughs loudly as he twirls his hand until your image disappears. This conversation further proves Jungkook’s argument that angels are actually dumber than they realize. 

“If you want me to help you, I will have my way with her. My job, my rules. Understand?”

Armaros feels defeated, but he can’t say anything but nod and agree to him. He can’t fight him anyway. Jungkook dismisses him, and with that, the angel ascends back up to earth. 

Jungkook can’t wait to have his fun. 

~

Prancing around, making friends, getting to know each other – Jungkook doesn’t want to do that. Instead, he’s very straightforward, saying words that he probably shouldn’t, he likes to say what he thinks no matter how bad it’ll probably hurt. 

That’s what he plans to do with you. 

If he gets his point clear, make you frightened, scare the shit out of you, then the job would be complete. 

Easy! 

You were currently on your laptop, scrolling through your pinterest tabs until you hear loud and frantic knocks on your door. “Y/n!” May shrieks, her voice quivering. “Someone’s at the door!” 

Oh no, you thought. 

Immediately hopping out of bed, you went out to see who it was with May following behind you. You peak out through the windows and suddenly, you inhale sharply from the man that you see. 

He was unfamiliar. Thankfully, it wasn’t Seokjin or Sophia nor Emilia, but rather tall, might you say handsome looking man waiting outside your doorstep. He was dressed in all black, his hair covering his eyes. 

“Do you know him?” May asks quietly. You shake your head slowly, “N-No.” 

“Y/n… I think you should just leave him.” 

“May, I can handle it. You can go now.” You say softly to her. 

“Are you sure—”

“Yes.” You spat a little harshly, blazing your eyes at her. May nods, sighing as she walks away to her room. 

Gathering the courage to open the door, you took a deep inhale and exhale, calming your nerves. 

Once you open the door, your eyes immediately fly to his dark ones. Your whole body suddenly shivers, the air around the place somewhat getting cold as if it was winter. 

You can't take your eyes off of the man. You have never met him before but it felt like you've known him for too long. There was a strange aura surrounding the two of you that you can't explain. 

“Hello.” He speaks first, giving you a sly smile. 

His voice. You've never heard such a dark and menacing timbre before. 

“Hi,” you gulp, “Who are you?” 

“May I come in?” Jungkook snaps, ignoring your question. He doesn't want to waste any time, that's for sure. 

You furrow your brows as you shake your head, “Answer my question first.” You blurt, blocking the entrance by placing your hands on either side of the doorway. 

“Hm,” Jungkook slowly shows you a deadly smirk, eyeing your body up and down. “You really wanna know?” 

What kind of a question is that? 

You quickly got annoyed, looking at him with a scorn. “Obviously!”

Feisty, Jungkook thought. 

“I'm the devil.”

There was a long pause, silence filling the air. This man is too handsome to be this dumb. You laugh hysterically, bending over as you hold your aching stomach. “A-Are you… oh my god… please tell me you're fucking joking!” you say with creased eyes. 

Jungkook already expected this reaction, and he only rolls his eyes without you noticing. 

“Mhm. You don't believe me?” he slowly pronounces his words, voice deep and sinister. 

“Nah,” you shake your head, giggling. 

“Aren't you religious?” Jungkook pushes you to the side without hesitation and enters, your eyes expanding slowly as his body suddenly comes in contact with yours. “Don't you believe in your God? You believe in angels, right?” He backs your body up and shuts the door loudly behind him. 

You felt a series of chills erupt from your system, his gaze locked on yours. You wanted to look away from his intimidating gaze, but you can't, for some strange reason. “Huh, Y/n?”

You gasp. “Wait, h-how do you know my name!?” 

Jungkook smirks at you, tilting his head to the side as he ignores your question again. 

Your body seems to move by itself, like you can't control your own limbs. The air thickens around the two of you as you feel your body submit to the man in front of you. 

Sighing, with a shaky voice you answer. “I do. I do believe in them.”

Although what shocks you is the way his eyes suddenly turn a bright shade of red. From deep black to red, his irises glow. 

“What the fuck–” you quickly back away, body shivering in fear until your back hits a wall. You rub your eyes, trying to see if your mind was only playing tricks with you. 

Jungkook grins and chuckles darkly, clicking his tongue. “Then…” he draws, walking closer to your frightened figure, “Can this convince you enough?” 

“S-Stop… stop playing games with me!” you whimper, feeling your palms get sweaty. “Your eyes are red!” 

“Hmm, I wonder why,” Jungkook snarls, forehead creasing, “Maybe because I'm the fucking devil?” 

And in a flash, Jungkook’s appearance changes from a tall, handsome boy into a dark red figure. Black, bat-like wings sprout from his back, long horns appearing from his forehead, a spear-like tail behind him. His lips and the area around his eyes were tinted in black while his fingers grew longer, sharper. 

You almost fainted then and there. 

“Oh— p-please,” your eyes turn watery as tears start to fall down your cheek, lifting your hands up to your mouth in shock, “please d-don't kill me!” Shutting your eyes to avoid the frightening image in front of you, your knees drop down to the floor with a loud thud. “I'm sorry, please f-forgive me! Don't k-kill me! Please!” 

“Oh, what a cute pretty girl you are,” the devil grins, his voice more gravelly now. He looks down at your frail self, amused. “I'm not here to kill you. I'm here to teach you a lesson.” 

You start to sob as your body shakes, “No! Please d-don't…”  

“Do you believe me now?”

“Yes! Yes I do!” you quickly reply, voice cracking. “I’m sorry s-sir, don’t hurt me!” 

Jungkook, satisfied with your reaction, morphs back to his normal human look within a few seconds. “Look at me.”

Slowly, afraid to anger the devil in front of you, you obey his words. You sigh in relief when he finally looks normal again, but you can't look at him the same way. 

“Stand up.”

You do so with wobbly legs. You felt so weak with your energy quickly drained so quickly. Wiping your tear-stained cheeks, you try your best to keep your composure. 

“Anyway, I'm Jungkook,” he gives you an award-winning smile, “I'm sent here to supposedly warn you from doing bad things.” He cringes, shaking his head. “Which, honestly speaking, I think is atrocious.”

He scans your body, biting his lip right after. “A good looking girl like you should have her fun.” 

You try to regain your senses back. A devil — a real devil appeared right in front of you. You can't seem to shake the thought away while he’s there looking so handsome in his human form. 

With a shaky breath, you ask him, “J-Jungkook? I'm really sorry. I don't know what I'm doing.” 

He snorts. Brushing his black hair away from his face. “Wrong. You know what you're doing.” 

“W-What?” 

Something in the air changes when Jungkook snaps his fingers. A thick, black smoke appears, capsuling the both of you in. “What is this?!” you question, terror overtaking your face. You watch your surroundings getting blurry, blackness covering the area. 

“Oh nothing,” he gives you a lopsided grin, “just making sure that your little angels can't see us.” 

Jungkook's eyes shine and his pupils enlarge, smiling as you notice how his teeth grow sharper. There were veins popping out in his neck, grimacing at you in pure excitement.  

“We can't afford your poor, guardian angel to stop us now, can't we? I don't want him to see us…playing.” 

“Playing?!” You gasp, eyes expanding in shock.. 

“Yes, baby. Angels are so fucking dumb, aren't they? Asking a devil to do their own work? Isn't that pathetic.”

You were locked to him like a magnet as your body seems to fill with utter desire in such a quick time. 

Was he doing something to you?!

A series of pleasurable chills erupt from your body, mouth getting dry as you look up at Jungkook with big eyes. 

His hand suddenly touches your bare arm, making you silently mewl from his chilling touch. He smirks at your reaction, “How dumb of them to trust the son of Lucifer himself.”

“Y-You… you're…” your voice fades, trying to process his words. 

“Mhm. Aren't you excited to play with me?” 

Maybe he's doing tricks to your mind, controlling your body – or maybe you’re just fucked up. Either way, you want him. 

You lust for him. 

“Yes.”

Jungkook draws his lower lip between his teeth, his hands finding its way to your waist, holding you firmly until he unexpectedly pulls you to his body. He lifts a single eyebrow up, “Really?” 

Your heartbeat quickens. 

“I've… I’ve never been more sure.” Words seem to spill out of your mouth without your consent, as if it wasn’t you who’s speaking. But you don’t try to take your words back.  

Jungkook laughs and starts to lift you up without struggle, finding his way to your bedroom while the smoke follows the two of you. “Bad, bad girl you are.” He lowers you down on the mattress, sending you a seductive wink, “I'm so fucking proud.” 

He preps himself on his knees, capturing your thighs in between. His eyes run down your body, chills running down your spine from how hot he looks. His figure was so big and muscular, making you feel like he can destroy your frail self. 

“Look at this, you look so fucking delicious baby.” 

His hand suddenly flies down to your armpits, roughly handling you as he carries you up as he sits down on the bed, his back pressed against the headboard, as he places you in between his legs. 

You hold back a whimper as he pushes your body closer to him. Hearing him growl deeply made your cunt throb, feeling a strange wet feeling down there. 

“Demons can't help humans,” he mutters lowly, his lips right against the shell of your ear. “They want you to sin and sin and sin until the day you fucking die.” 

His hands play with your shirt until in a quick flash, he rips the cotton material in half, your body shivering as it has been exposed to the cold air. “Ohh,” you whimper, covering your body with your arms. 

“Nu-uh,” Jungkook grins behind you, “Don't do that, baby.” He leans down and starts pressing wet and sloppy kisses all over your shoulders, running his mouth up to your neck. “Don't try to hide away from me.”

He sucks on the soft skin of your neck, his big dick throbbing in his pants from the way you were constantly squirming. You were so sensitive, and it made him so horny. He hums, marking your skin in bright red and purple bruises. 

“Ahh, Jungkook,” you moan, throwing your head back until it rests right against his shoulder. 

His hands suddenly fly to your breasts, his long and slender fingers pinching and twisting your hardened nipples. You bite your bottom lip as you can't seem to open your eyes from the feeling. It was until Jungkook suddenly digs his nails into your nipples, pinching them roughly that made you jolt right up. 

“Oh, t-that hurts,” you cry, the stinging feeling of his sharp nails pinching your buds. Jungkook watches your face contort, digging his nails even harder. He feels your body twitch, hearing your gentle whines and mewls. 

“Ohhh you don't like it baby, does it hurt too much for your sensitive, precious body?” he mocks a concerned tone. “Hm?” 

He was playing games with you, that's for sure. You nod your head up and down, trying to push his hands away. “Mhm…” 

Thankfully, he does stop but he quickly cups your breasts with both hands. He feels your rock-hard nipples pushing against his rough palms, kneading your boobs until he finally lets go. 

“Take these off,” he instructs you to pull your shorts down, and you do so. With trembling hands, you swiftly tug them off of your legs. 

“Mmm, fuck,” he grunts behind you, his right hand lowering down from your stomach until it reaches the destination right against your clothed pussy. His fingers slowly trace down your slick, feeling how wet you are through your panties. 

He smirks cockily, “You're fucking drenched, baby. Are you this horny?” he rubs your clit in slow, circular motions with just the right amount of pressure with the tips of his two fingers, your legs shivering. “Want something to stuff that little hole of yours?” 

He pulls your underwear down to your thighs, and you instantly shake it off with your legs. Jungkook pushes your legs apart, forcing your knees up with your feet flat on the mattress. Your cunt flutters around air from the exposure. You whine when his left arm possessively wraps around your stomach, his biceps flexing when he holds you tightly. 

“Stay fucking still,” he growls, his warm hand cupping your bare cunt. He chuckles, prodding his tongue against his cheek as he plays with your folds. He uses two slender fingers to spread your labia apart and you can feel your glistening arousal drip from your hole down to your ass. 

Jungkook hums in satisfaction, spreading your lips wider, making you emit a moan. “Jungkook—”

“No. I want you to call me something…” he elongates the pause in his sentence to suddenly insert the tip of his middle finger in your pussy, causing you to jump. “Something else, baby.” 

“Ah-ahh, what?” your legs couldn't stop trembling as he pushes his finger deeper, your walls sucking it in deliciously. 

You can feel him smirk against the skin of your neck, he snickers, “Starts with the letter D.” 

Your eyes squint in confusion, tilting your head up to look at him. Jungkook, with his glowing red eyes, scans your face with a quirked eyebrow expectantly. 

“Devil?” 

Jungkook scoffs loudly and instantly pushes the rest of his finger in your cunt, immediately pumping in and out at a rapid pace. Your hands quickly hold onto his arm that was wrapped around you, mouth agape from the sudden thrusts. “Ohhh!” your body shakes, leaning your head against him. Electric waves of pleasure run through your body, being new to the sensation. 

He growls as he removes his finger out to slap your pussy harshly, hitting your sensitive clit. “Wrong.” 

“Oww…” you mewl, your hips bucking up from the sting. He does this again, and again, and again, making your eyes watery. He tightens his hold on you, stopping you from squirming too much. 

“Daddy.” He purrs. 

Your body instantly feel a series of shivers. 

“Call me daddy.” Jungkook bites your neck roughly while he inserts his digits back, this time using his middle and ring finger. You hiss in pleasure, eyes tempting to roll back when he brushes the sponge-like texture inside your pussy. 

“Shit, right there daddy,” you curse, rolling your hips against his hand for more. “Right there!” 

Jungkook feels his cock harden even more, precum dripping down his tip as it twitches against his clothes. The way you pronounce that certain word drove him crazy. Jungkook loves how your body easily crumbles beneath him as you allow him to have all the control. He pounds your pussy faster with his hand, putting his bicep to good use. 

You were about to cum, the feeling of a tightness inside your tummy, a ball about to burst at any second. You warn Jungkook, “Daddy, i-i think… I think I'm gonna c-cum,” you sob. 

“I know.” He says simply, fucking you harder. Suddenly, he pushes his index finger in, three digits stretching your walls out. You cry loudly, thrashing around him as high-pitched moans carelessly leave your mouth. “Shiiiiit, d-daddy!” 

“Need to stretch this little pussy out for my cock” he purrs, “cuz’ we don’t want that tiny hole of yours to split into two, right baby?” 

Your toes curl, nails digging into the skin of his arm as you fail to warn him that you're gonna cum any second now. Although he can feel the way your pussy was pulsing around his long fingers. He angled his hand until your clit was brushing against his palm, “Daddy! Ohh fuck, just l-like that!”

Until it all stops. 

All of the pleasure stops when Jungkook pulls his fingers out. 

“Fuuuuuuuck!” you yell, never been more frustrated before as he denies your orgasm. You were about to cum so hard. Your legs shake uncontrollably, scratching his arms as your body shudders. Your poor cunt pulsates rapidly from the sour loss. You were a whimpering, sobbing mess. 

Laughing dryly behind you was Jungkook, licking his fingers clean as he watches your dignity wash away right in front of his eyes. 

“Fuck you,” you scowl, pushing away his arms and turning to face him. “Fuck. You.” 

But he wasn't bothered at all, of course. He was the devil after all. He had no remorse.

Before you know it, Jungkook wraps his hand around your throat and swiftly pulls you close to his face. You gulp, terrified from the intimidating look in his eyes. 

Jungkook thinks that he can easily kill you then and there. If it were a different person, he wouldn't hesitate to snap their neck like a stick. Usually he would feel tempted to physically hurt a person in this kind of situation. But no. He likes you. He likes you too much to kill.

“Take my cock out.”

Even though you hate him for denying your orgasm so brutally like that, you nod your head. Jungkook removes his shirt as you scoot down. You were careful to unbutton his pants, heart rate going faster from the thought of seeing his cock right in front of your face. By the look of the large tent evident, he was gonna be huge. Jungkook watches you with heavy eyes, running his hand through your hair softly. 

You pull the garment down and your mouth visibly waters from the sight. The outline of his cock was evident from his briefs, long and thick and was certainly rock hard. You were so afraid to even touch it as you let your hands sit right on his thighs. 

“Haven't done this before?” he asks, rubbing your cheek with one hand. You shake your head, afraid to look at his glaring eyes. 

Jungkook chortles, quickly pulling his underwear down by himself.

His cock immediately springs out and rests on his abdomen. With wide, surprised eyes, you notice his red tip leaking so much precum, dripping down his abs. You involuntarily whine and wiggle your hips in need, your wetness dripping down your thigh. 

“Take it in your mouth.” He orders, voice strict and demanding. 

“But—” 

“Did I stutter?” 

“No daddy.” You whisper, looking away and finally gathering the courage to wrap your hands around his girth. You clench your thighs together when you feel him against your palm – warm and heavy, yet the skin was soft at the same time. When you stroke his shaft up and down watching how his precum pours down to your hands, providing you lubrication as it coats his cock. 

Jungkook throws his head back as he smiles down at you, feeling so good. He bucks his hips up repeatedly, meeting your timid strokes. 

His patience runs out and slaps your hand away, gripping his cock tightly. Suddenly, he slaps his dick on your cheek, making lewd and wet sounds. “Open your fuckin’ mouth.” 

Obeying his command, you wrap your lips around his leaking tip. You taste the saltiness of his seed on your tongue, trying your best to take more of him. His thick girth was making it hard for you as your jaw immediately feels sore. 

His hand flies to grip your hair, making you whine around his cock, causing vibrations. “Look at that pretty little mouth tryna’ take this cock,” he smirks, “Go deeper baby. Gag around my cock if you don't wanna be punished.” 

Your hips swivel in need from his words, pussy soaking like a river. You slack your jaw as you sink down on his cock, trying to ignore the harsh gags when his tip hits the back of your throat. Jungkook growls loudly above you, seeing that the corners of your mouth were dripping in saliva. 

He uses both of his hands to force you deeper. Your eyes start to water when you swallow just half of his big dick, already being too much for you. The harsh and wet gagging sounds were music to Jungkook's ear, loving to see you struggle. “Mhm, fuck yes,” he grunts, “Choke on that big dick.” 

He keeps you down there, feeling sinister as his devilish instincts get the best of him. He ignores your cries and pleads, only focusing on the feeling of the sweet vibrations whenever you moaned around him. Or whenever your throat closes around his shaft when you choked, it was all too good for him. 

You immediately tapped on his thighs furiously when you can't take it anymore, but what did he do? He starts fucking your mouth with sharp thrusts of his hips. You whimper, closing your eyes tight as your nails dig into the skin of his thighs. He grabs you by your head as he uses your poor mouth for pleasure. 

Trying to breathe through your nose, you ignore the burning sensation in your mouth yet it feels too good. “Ahhhh holy fucking shit,” he grunts, feeling your throat tighten, “Look at that – fuck. Bad little girl aren't you? Mhm? You're my bad, naughty girl.” Jungkook mocks, watching the stream of tears drip down your cheeks. 

Finally, he pulled out and there were thick strings of saliva connecting your lips to his cock. He groans loudly, his cock twitching as it lays back on his stomach. 

“Ohh, c'mere baby girl, come here.” Jungkook whispers and pulls your body close to him. You straddle his lap, feeling his cock beneath your folds that made you hiss. He wraps his strong arms around you, his face inches close to yours. You try not to be intimidated by his menacing eyes, but he notices this and clutches your throat with one hand, squeezing it again that made you inhale sharply. Jungkook sees your pout, your lips bruised from your numerous bites, and he chuckles. 

He tugs you until his lips are right upon your ear. “You wanna cum, baby?” 

Your body shivers from how deep and alluring his voice was, although you nod your head. “Please, daddy.” 

“Oh but do you deserve it? Do you even deserve a cock like mine?” 

You hate how frustrated he can make you. You punch your hands down on his chest, whining, “I-I do…” 

Jungkook quirks a brow up, immediately forcing your hands behind your back. He roughly grasps your wrists together with one hand, surely leaving a red bruise. He bites his lip, “You do?” He swiftly lands a spank on your right ass cheek, making you moan. “Then sink down on my cock.” 

With a puff of your breath, Jungkook helps you align his dick to your sopping entrance. You couldn’t breathe properly, anticipating what will happen as soon as you slowly sink yourself on his thick tip. 

“Ohhh daddy!” Your walls stretch out as you take his tip in, making you feel a harsh, stinging sensation as he rips your walls. If it wasn’t with his impressive girth, it probably wouldn’t hurt as much. Jungkook grunts, his cock throbbing from the feeling of your cunt fluttering around him. 

“Fuck yeah,” he watches your pussy take him further, your juices coating his shaft. He tightens his hold on your wrists, slightly bucking his hips up. Jungkook lands another hard, loud spank. 

“Daddy you're so b-big,” you moan, almost halfway down his dick but you can't take more of him anymore. Jungkook gets turned on from the sweet tone of your voice, the thought of tainting such a girl like you made him chuckle. 

Jungkook feeds himself from the idea of corrupting you, letting you know how it feels to truly rebel. Who the fuck cares about what your parents think? Humans are all going to die anyway, there’s nothing wrong with having a little fun. 

You start to bounce up and down slowly, your pussy rubbing against him, feeling the thick protruding veins upon your walls. You dig your nails onto your palm, eyes closed shut as you prop yourself up to your feet. 

“That's it, baby. Ride daddy's cock,” he insinuates, watching your face contort in pleasure. With your eyebrows knitted together, eyes shut and mouth wide open, Jungkook’s cock throbs inside of you.

“Look at that fucking face, cant take it?” he snickers. 

“I can, I can,” you pant tirelessly, legs getting sore. Your brows drew deeper as you concentrated on the feeling of his cock hitting your sensitive nerves so good, already so close to an orgasm from how big he is. 

But Jungkook wanted more. He wants it harder, rougher. He wants to shoot his hot cum so hard and deep inside your fresh womb, filling you up. He wants to wreck your body until you break. 

So he releases your hands free and instead grabs a hold of your waist firmly, keeping you still. He plants his feet on the bed and starts to thrust his hips up like crazy. 

Your jaw drops into an ‘o’ shape and you release a particular loud squeal. Your hands hold onto his broad shoulder, throwing your head back as he continues to drill your abused cunt. His balls slap against your ass, creating lewd slapping noises. 

“Dadddyyyyy!” you shriek, eyes expanding so wide from the unexpected bliss of electric currents shooting down your spine. You can't handle it, your orgasm snapping in a quick second. “I'm—!” 

Jungkook groans loudly when your pussy squirts your cum all over his dick and gushes all over his stomach. He fucks you through your mind-blowing orgasm, your eyes rolling back to your head as your legs shake from the unexpecting feeling. Your mind seems to cloud in lust as he doesn’t stop fucking you. 

“Shit,” he laughs, “look at this poor little girl.” Jungkook caresses your ass before he spanks it roughly, emitting a whimper from your mouth, kneading the bruised flesh right after. “Squirting all over daddy. You love my big cock so much, huh? You horny, desperate little slut.” 

Before you can even process what he just said, he flips you over until you lay down flat on your stomach. He hovers on top of you, keeping his dick in without pulling out. You yelp as he wraps his big hand around your throat, tightly squeezing your jugular without mercy. 

“A-ahhh oh—” you choke, letting your forehead down to rest on the sheets as he continues to pound you from behind. 

He had absolutely no mercy, using you as his little fucktoy for his pleasure, abusing your pussy like it was made for his demon cock. He chokes you harder, almost making you see stars. 

Your cunt throbs once again, signalling that another orgasm is coming near. “Ohhhh fuck fuck fuck fuck!” you moan, heavy puffs of breath coming out of your mouth every time he thrusts into you. 

Jungkook feels his nerves getting hotter and hotter, his cock aching to cum. He doesn't think of anything else but the way your walls clench so tightly around him. “Gonna break this motherfucking pussy of yours,” he growls, leaning down until his chest presses against your sweaty back. “I'm gonna fucking paint your walls with my cum, baby. You're gonna take all of it, you're gonna take all of daddy's cum in that tight cunt.”

Your legs squirm, hands closing into fists as you hit the bed over and over from how sensitive you become. Your hands claw the sheets tightly, back arching from the breathtaking pleasure. 

“Ahhhh daddy! Ohh my fucking— ahhh yes, yes yes!” your body crumbles, mouth wide open as you scream while you cum for the second time. Your pussy pulses so harshly around his dick, coating it with your juices, making it more wet for him. 

He groans, removing his hand from your throat and slaps your ass again. “Naughty little shit right here.” It was so messy, just how he likes it. His cum covered in your glistening arousal, fucking you through your high. 

He immediately flips you around again, making you face him. He smirks cockily from your flushed chest and face, noticing that you were having trouble opening your eyes. 

He leans down and rests his forearms beside your head, “Take it baby, take it.” he murmurs roughly, his balls getting heavier. “Take my fucking dick.”

Your legs never seem to stop quivering, everything around you seems blurry besides Jungkook's face. How does he still look so handsome and perfect? His black hair falls down his forehead, swaying with every hard thrust, his deep dimples peeking through when he bites his lower lip slowly while he savors the feeling of your warm, wet pussy. 

“Gonna cum in you baby,” he pants, holding your cheek in one hand. “Daddy’s gonna cum so fuckin’ hard for you.” You notice a dark, sinister forming his lips as he looks down at you. There it was again, that intimidating, almost teasing look. 

He growls roughly, hips staying still inside you as he dips down to gnaw at your shoulder. You hiss, whimpering when he sinks his teeth so harshly into your delicate skin, leaving an ugly mark. “Ah-ahh, daddy!” His cock spurts out warm strings of his seed, filling you up to the brim. 

“Mmm, mmm, fuck yeah,” he moans, “take it, Y/n.” 

When he pulls his cock out, his pupils enlarge as he sees your arousal dripping out of your cunt and onto your bed. He chuckles, stroking his cock a couple of times to milk himself furthermore, not wasting any of his sperm.

The two of you were breathless, breathing heavily. Your legs feel so sore and you can't feel them either, your ass stinging from his numerous rough spanks. 

“Clean yourself up, Y/n.” Jungkook suddenly throws you a wet towel, about to ask him where it came from, although he just stares at you blankly with a quirked brow. 

Gulping, you nod and start wiping yourself clean. 

~

He can't leave now. Not after all of this. 

There was something that attracted yourself to him. You can't seem to grasp what it is – but whenever Jungkook looks at you in the eyes, you feel like submitting. 

It was like your body doesn't belong to you anymore. He possesses your body now. 

“Crawl to me, my love.” He whispers, and you were easily drawn to his beautiful eyes. 

Still naked, you do as you're told and crawl towards the edge of the bed where he stands. He wears his pants, thankfully covering his goods. 

He sighs and softly caresses your cheek with a warm hand, making you flutter your eyes shut whilst leaning against his palm. He hums delightfully, smirking. 

“Surrender.” He purrs, eyes drooping down as he looks at you with such gentleness, almost with care. He leans down until your faces are mere inches away from each other. “Surrender to me, my love. And I’ll take you to somewhere you belong.”

Your eyes shimmer, batting your eyelashes as you gawk up at him with eagerness. “W-Where I belong?” you repeat in question.

“Yes, Y/n.” He smiles, showing you his perfect teeth. “Where no one will judge you, no one will criticize you for you. You can be whoever you want, you can do whatever you want. Isn’t that exciting, baby?”

Mouth getting dry, your nerves heat up once again, feeling nothing but anticipation. “Yes.”

Jungkook holds your face in two hands, compelling you to stare unswervingly at his red eyes. “Submit to me, Y/n, and you’ll never worry about this earth’s dreadful problems.” His voice gravelly yet dark, somehow different to his normal human speaking voice. 

You didn’t know what he really means by ‘submit’, or where he was supposed to take you. But your mind was telling you to go. Your consciousness speaks to you like someone was whispering in your ear what to do. You kneel before him, still keeping eye-contact. The air around the two of your shifts and it suddenly grows warm as your body starts to sweat.

“Where are…” your voice was breathy, “Where are you taking me?”

Jungkook starts to chuckle, brushing your hair back with his fingers. Suddenly, your heart races when he presses a tender, wet kiss on your forehead. Your eyes widen, heart beating out of your chest when he continues to kiss you down to the bridge of your nose, until it stops right upon your lips. He hovers his mouth right against yours, feeling his warm breath.

He whispers the words so ominously that goosebumps appear all over your arms and legs. “I’m gonna take you down to hell.” 

Jungkook watches your face go pale, all the blood leaving your face as you gaze at him with such big, surprised eyes. Without warning, he presses his lips against yours. You can’t keep up with him, his kiss rough and dominating. You whimper when his hand goes to wrap itself around your throat, pulling you closer. His tongue easily slips in your mouth, causing you to gasp. Jungkook smirks through the kiss as he controls the way your mouth moves. The two muscles dance together with such need and passion, hands getting sweaty. 

He bites your bottom lip, chewing on the soft flesh while he gently rolls it against his teeth. Jungkook growls, eyebrows furrowing. He can’t seem to get enough of you, wanting you all for himself. He’s addicted to you; your scent, your beautiful eyes, your body, he doesn’t want to leave this earth without you. 

He needs you down with him. 

Jungkook pulls out as he watches your flushed face, all out of breath. There was nothing else that you could do but whine about the loss of his lips. You were craving more of him. You pout, hoping that he’ll give in but Jungkook just shakes his head with a smirk. 

“Answer me, baby. Go down with me, and I’ll treat you so good.” He insinuates, “I’ll treat you like my own fucking queen. Don’t you want that?” 

You nod your head furiously, “I do want that,” you say softly. 

He clicks his tongue, “Tch, louder.” 

“I want it, please. Bring me with you.” Jungkook watches your pupils dilate, growing bigger as you speak. “Please.” 

Jungkook smiles. And within a flash, the black smoke that was encircling the two of you all this time thickens and starts to wash over the two of you. You cough uncontrollably yet Jungkook just stands there and watches. The smoke fills your lungs until you lose consciousness. 

~

Sounds of the crackling fire fills your eardrums, and your body tries to accommodate the scorching heat of your surroundings. 

Opening your eyes, you see that you’re nowhere in your room, or in the overworld. All that your eyes can see was miles and miles of dark red and black hills, huge torches of fire everywhere, scattered all over the place. There were girls and boys dressed in all black outfits, walking around the place with blank faces, eyes having stripped off of their emotions.

You look down on yourself and thankfully, you were wearing clothes. A tight red dress that hugs your body perfectly, enhancing your curves.

“Y/n.”

A soft voice calls out your name, and you whip around to see Jungkook in his demon form, smiling at you as he sits on his throne. You feel a warm, familiar feeling in your heart as if coming home and going to bed from a long trip. His blazing eyes lead you to a trance.

He beckons you to him for he lifts his right hand out to you. He eyes your body up and down, fixing his posture whilst he runs his tongue along his bottom lip. The way your hips gently sways as you make your way towards him – not losing eye contact – and how your irises burn in desire, it was all that Jungkook asks for.

Your legs move without your permission, leading you up the stone steps to his throne.

His hand was warm when you grasp it, although it was rough and almost hard unlike his human skin, you touch as if there was no difference. You weren’t afraid anymore. Jungkook signals you to sit on his lap, and you gladly obey. With legs on either side of his thigh, you straddle him.

“You’re mine, baby.” Jungkook snarls, “This is your place now.”

“I…” you speak for the first time, “I can’t see my friends and family anymore?”

He shakes his head no with a sly grin.

You exhale, a big smile painting your face. You’ve never felt so content and happy in your entire life.

“Then I love it here.”  

Jungkook makes sure that your angels can’t and won’t look for you anymore. He swears that he’ll protect you in every way possible, promising to shield you from anything that will hurt you. Jungkook looks at your beautiful red eyes, feeling your arms wrap around his neck as you pull him close. 

The last thing anyone should do is trust a devil — and that goes for your foolish angels. 

[brightly-painted-canvas]

Credo che possiamo affermare con assoluta certezza che tutte le bambine della parrocchia avrebbero una cotta fotonica per Nico l'animatore del Grest, E LE MAMME SAREBBERO PURE PEGGIO, "tanto un caro ragazzo lui..."

Ah, sì. Poco ma sicuro. Headcanon accepted. Passerebbe il tempo circondato da bimbe (e bimbi perché no) adoranti che lo seguono ovunque e che parlano di lui talmente tanto a casa che tutti i genitori si sono fatti assurdi film mentali su questa figura mitologica. E poi se lo trovano davanti all'orario di uscita e pure le mamme perdono la testa.

A riguardo, piccolo aneddoto personale: anche io quando facevo l'animatrice ero molto apprezzata dai più piccoli XD Una volta un bambino di seconda elementare mi ha regalato una carta Pokémon e mi ha chiesto di sposarlo.

Quindi, dato che avevo promesso avrei provato a scrivere un po', complimenti: hai vinto una drabble ispirata proprio a questo fatto realmente accaduto! :D

.

Innocent proposal (animatore!Nicky AU)

When the bell rings, announcing it’s time to gather up the teams for prayers before heading to the mess hall for lunch, Nicky is still helping Jacopo solve a math problem.

“It’s okay. We will finish this tomorrow.” he smiles at the 9 years old, who looks ready to bolt, summer homework already very far from his young mind.

“Grazie, Nico!” he exclaims, while dutifully picking up his book and pencil case.

Nicky gets up, helps the kids gather their stuff, cleans up the study room and heads down to the gym, where Don Luigi is waiting for all the 120 kids attending this year’s oratorio estivo to sit on the floor before starting his usually brief and often sung pre-lunch prayer.

.

The gym is already full of it’s typical colourful mass of kids, from the ‘juniores’ to the ‘seniores’, all with caps and neckerchiefs of their team’s colour: blue, red, yellow or green.

Nicky is about to slalom through a group of rowdy seniores to reach the side of the gym where the other animatori are seated, when he feels a tug at the back of his t-shirt.

He stops, turns his head and looks down, surprised in seeing little Chiara biting her lips and still holding the hem of his shirt in her tiny fist.

“What is it, darling?” he asks, smiling down at her.

When she lets him go, he turns and crouches down at her level, balancing on his heels, to give his whole attention to the shy, sweet 7 years old.

“Vanessa taught us how to make beaded bracelets.” she says, her voice so thin it’s almost impossible to hear her mumbling beneath the chaos of the gym.

“Did she? That’s very nice!” he encourages her, while in his mind he is revising his animatrice friend Vanessa, that very morning, cursing at all the colourful beads boxes she had to carry from the storage to the art laboratory.

Chiara, who already has her own bracelet around her small wrist, produces another bracelet from her jeans’ pocket: it has beads of all the colours of the rainbow, not really placed in a logical order. At the center there is a dice shaped white bead with an ‘N’ printed on it.

“This is for you.” Chiara says, possibly even more softly than before.

“Grazie, Chiara! È bellissimo!” exclaims Nicky, accepting the gift and immediately snapping the plastic elastic band around his thick wrist: the bracelet it’s a bit tight, but he’s surely gonna wear it proudly all through summer camp now.

“It’s because I think you’re very nice and handsome and I like you very very much.” says Chiara then, somewhere somehow finding the courage to even raise her voice a bit.

Nicky blinks exactly twice, then he smiles sweetly, trying not to burst into a laugh in the face of such a cute love confession: “Thank you, I like you too.” he says, taking the girl’s tiny hand in his huge one. He can’t help falling a bit in love with every small kid he tutors during oratorio estivo each summer: they’re adorable, even the most troublemakers.

Then Chiara asks suddenly: “Will you marry me, Nicolò?”, catching him so off guard he almost loses balance on his crouching and falls on his ass.

He fumbles, looking into her hopeful, big green eyes as she waits for an answer. He knows he can’t get away with a joke or an attempt to gloss over. He has to give her a reply, so as not to hurt the shy girl’s feelings.

.

Later that evening, Nicky is sprawled on the couch eating popcorn, distractedly watching some superhero movie on Joe’s big flatscreen TV while his boyfriend slowly and lovingly massages his sore feet and calves. Joe has had Nicky’s legs propped on his lap since the moment they sat down, claiming that helping Nicky relax and ease the pain of more than 8 hours spent standing, running and lifting heavy stuff, was his favourite job.

Above them the ceiling fan whirs in a monotone and Nicky is almost falling asleep were it not for the loud booms of explosions from the TV and the many sounds of late summer evenings coming from the street’s bars and restaurants below. Joe’s apartment is in a very lively neighbourhood.

By the minute Nicky is feeling his eyelids drooping and his breath becoming deeper and slower and he’s about to let slumber win when Joe suddenly moves, getting up.

“I bought gelato. The pistacchio and stracciatella one you like so much. Want some?” he asks, already smiling, knowing that not even deep tiredness could deter Nicky from eating his favourite summer dessert.

“Ti amo tantissimo.” he just mumbles as a reply, smiling dumbly with his eyes half closed and his neck skewed at such an odd angle he must have at least five chins showing. He can’t even English at the moment, so he just continues with much fondness: “Cosa devo fare io per meritarmi un amore grande così…”

Joe snorts, having heard him from the kitchen.

He comes back a few minutes later, one cup of ice cream and a spoon in each hand, and places them on the coffee table before bending to kiss Nicky on the (slightly sweaty, ugh, gross) forehead.

“You have to kiss me, hold me close even if it’s summer…” he starts listing, plopping down on the couch and then in Nicky’s arms, linking their legs, pushing his face against Nicky’s too warm collarbone.

His mop of curls brushes under Nicky’s nose and he huffs, but still accepts the weight (and warmth) of his boyfriend on his tired body.

“You have to take me out on dates, go to the beach with me when oratorio estivo is over and, one day, you will have to marry me.” continues Joe, each word kissed against the skin of Nicky’s neck.

“Marry? You wanna get married?” asks Nicky, worsening his multiple chin situation to look down into Joe’s glinting eyes.

“Eventually? In our late twenties? When you’ll be a doctor and I’ll be a famous artist? Yes.” he confesses, suddenly almost shy, but with a gaze full of trust and love.

“That’d be nice.” immediately replies Nicky, heart engulfed in the same sentiment he sees in Joe’s perfect eyes: “But alas,” he sighs theatrically, placing the back of his right hand above his forehead, for emphasis.

“‘Alas’ what?” asks Joe, pushing himself up a bit, looking confused.

“I’ve already accepted one marriage proposal today, I’m afraid.” admits Nicky, showing the beaded bracelet on his wrist, his new love token.

“Excuse me?” protests Joe, his disbelieving expression so cute Nicky can’t help but grin and boop him on the nose.

“Yeah, a young suitor asked for my hand in marriage, today. In, let’s see… 11 years, she will be of age and we will tie the knot.” he explains, barely succeeding in holding back a laugh.

Joe sighs exasperatedly, a mischievous grin spreading on his beautiful red lips. He flops down heavily once again, punching the air out of Nicky’s lungs and then he rubs his itchy, bearded chin on his boyfriend’s chest. “That’s alright,” he declares after he’s satisfied with his retaliation methods: “I’ll just have to kidnap and marry you before that, then.” he reasons.

“Oh, you brute.” sighs Nicky, finally placing his hand on Joe’s jaw to guide him up and steal a kiss from his smiling lips.

Joe kisses back, with mirth and then with intensity, stealing his breath and dissipating, in an instant, all of Nicky’s tiredness.

When they part, Joe has his hands in Nicky’s hair and Nicky’s left hand, the clever bastard, now rests on Joe’s ass.

The movie, the lively evening outside, the fatigue of the day, everything is forgotten. Except: “Now that that’s sorted out, amore mio, pass me the gelato.”

.

Notes: Nicky is 18 and Joe is 21 in this, I guess. Sorry for the mistakes, English is (obviously) not my first language. Hope you enjoyed!

[possiamo-andare]

Just You (1)

JJ x Reader x Rafe (love triangle)

MASTERLIST

word count: 3.1k

summary: A new girl moves to OBX and a love triangle ensues. Your usual yearning, fluff writing :)

a/n: gosh, it has been too long. university has me swamped but since it’s the holiday break, i will try and update as much as i can. as of rn my other fic, sweeter, is on hold, while i try to write more and get back into the groove of things :) love y’all <3 

~

Many people do not care to know the difference between new and old money. To the working class, new and old money were relatively the same. To some extent, that was true. People that had either new or old money were rich nonetheless but when you grew up rich like Rafe Cameron did, the difference was all that mattered.

The main difference was how the money was procured. Old money was passed down. No one from old money had to work since they were born rich. Their manners were taught at a young age. New money meant that they had worked for what they had. At some point, they were not rich and now they were. They were not as defined and they had to be taught, at an older age, how to act. Rafe’s mother used to say you could see who was from old and new money from their ties. If it was a man, their ties would be neutral colours, nothing flashy. People from new money usually had something to prove and so they would buy extravagant things. For women, it was their heels. Women from old money had small heels that were polished as well. Women from new money had tall heels and they had never learned that they should polish the heel along with the shoe.

Growing up as someone from old money, Rafe had normalized that there was a divide between the rich people in Figure 8. Of course, there was a divide between the Pogues and the Kooks but that divide was course and palpable. This divide was subdued and rarely ever spoken about. Kooks that came from old money lived on the west side of Figure 8 while the Kooks from new money resided on the east. This unspoken rule proved to be useful since the two groups of rich snobs never liked to speak to each other anyways. This rule had been in place years before Rafe was even born and he had thought it would still be there even after he died. That is, until Y/N moved in down the street.

It was at the beginning of June when she moved in. The first sign that things would end terribly was when her family pulled into the parking lot. Her mother drove a beat up blue Camaro while her father trailed behind in a black motorcycle. Most people that lived on the west side of the island didn’t have flashy cars but they were well maintained and not so loud. Everyone knew they were from new money before they even exited their cars. And when they did, it was confirmed these people had just become wealthy.

Rafe’s family, like most on the street, watched from their windows as a tall, burly man with a long black beard and sunglasses opened the truck of his wife’s car and carried two large bags in the door. His two sons, both similar in size and features, followed after him. They carried two pink suitcases inside as the man’s daughter and wife stayed outside to open their garage.

Rafe’s eyes glanced over their house. It was one of the bigger houses on the block but it looked more like a huge cottage than anything else. His mind went to the thought of hippies invading their neighbourhood. He gulped. If they were some type of laid back, motorcycling hippies, he’d go crazy for sure. He knew Sarah would love them though; she always complained about how boring their neighbourhood was. But boring meant normal and that’s what Rafe wanted.

As his mother gossiped on the phone, Rafe watched the mother and the daughter laugh together. The mother looked like a hippie. Her hair was tied up on the top of her head and it had clearly not been brushed. She wore a light green skirt that reached to her ankles which then led to the flip flops that she wore. A white t-shirt was tucked into her skirt and she had big bracelets of all different colours dangling off her wrists. The daughter’s style was similar to her mother’s. She wore pink bootcut jeans and a white crop top, black chunky platform boots pulling the look together. Her hair was different from her mothers and was let down to blow in the breeze. They all looked like polar opposites from everyone else living in Figure 8.

At first, Rafe could care less about the girl or her family across the street. Granted, he would religiously watch through the window for when she would come outside to ride her bike around the neighbourhood with her brothers, and yes, he would sometimes wait until she was outside for him to take out the trash but he didn’t like her. If anything, it was the opposite. Rafe was too good for her. At least, that’s what he led himself to believe.

The first time he spoke to her was two weeks after she moved in. His mother had told him to stay away from Y/N’s family and Rafe had done an amazing job at doing so. Unfortunately, that all stopped when he had to pick Sarah up from school. She had thrown up in the middle of one of her classes and since both his mother and father were at work, the responsibility was on Rafe to pick Sarah up and make sure she was okay. Although reluctant to go back to his old highschool, Rafe knew he’d be in trouble if he was late in picking up his sister. When he entered the school's administration office, he finally came face to face with the girl he had been watching for two weeks now. Except, her back was turned to him as she argued with the secretary.

“That’s what you call a vegetarian dish?” Y/N raised her voice, not particularly enjoying being ignored by the school administration. When she first had come to this school, she had checked off on her form that she needed vegetarian dishes for lunch. Now, everyday since she had come, they had served her horribly chopped up lettuce with vinegar.

“Miss -” Ms. Buzden said, placing her phone on hold. It was the student’s lunch break so she usually called her sister during this time but Y/N was keeping her from doing so.

“Y/N.” Y/N smiled, finally happy she had caught the woman’s attention.

Ms. Buzden rolled her eyes, sighing deeply. “Y/N, dear, if you have a problem with lunch, please take it up with the lunch ladies.”

Y/N sighed, leaning against the secretary’s desk. “I tried to, Beth, but she told me to come here. I will not be ignored.”

Rafe was almost as surprised as Ms. Buzden was when Y/N used her first name. As he stood behind Y/N, waiting for his turn to ask where Sarah was so he could sign her out, he watched in slight amusement at the fact she was nonchalantly complaining to the secretary.

“Well, I don’t know what to tell you dear.” Ms. Buzden forced a smile, finally looking over Y/N’s shoulder to Rafe. “Rafe, sweetie, you’re here to sign out Sarah?”

Rafe hesitated for a moment, knowing Y/N’s eyes were on his. He felt as if an imaginary spotlight had shown on him for a solo and he had forgotten the words. His eyes glanced toward Y/N for a moment but it did not help his stage fright. Her beautiful eyes were squinting in his direction and for a moment he thought he would faint underneath her stare. His eyes quickly returned to the secretary’s and nodded quickly. In an embarrassing turn of events, Y/N spoke before Rafe did.

“Hey, I know you.” Y/N’s bracelets clang together as she lifts her hand up and points at Rafe. “You’re my neighbour. You’re always watching me through your window.”

As the secretary busies herself with printing the paperwork, Rafe busies himself by stuttering and gasping for breath at the accusation she had just posed. In an attempt to save himself from anymore embarrassment, Rafe tries and fails at coming up with a good excuse. Instead, he denies the accusation entirely.

“I do not watch you.” Rafe stubbornly blubbers out. He’s trying not to seem so embarrassed but she’s caught him so off guard that there’s nothing else he can do.

Y/N snickers, watching the poor boy stumble on every word. For someone older than her, he was not very mature. “No, you’re right. Watching would imply a causal aspect to the activity. More like you stalk me.”

This time, Rafe boiled over with anger. How dare this girl accuse him of stalking her? Rafe did not chase after any girl, no matter how attractive she was. “That’s a bit arrogant, isn’t it? To think everyone’s eyes are on you?”

Y/N continued to smile, unbothered by Rafe’s obvious rudeness. She shrugs, looking back to the secretary for a moment and grabbing her terrible vegetarian lunch before looking back to Rafe. “Not everyone’s. Just yours.”

And with that, she leaves the office. And Rafe knows he is screwed, because he just met the love of his life.

~

JJ Maybank shared almost everything with his friends. Emphasis on almost. They had always relied on him to be the funny one. To always goof around and take nothing seriously. So, when his dad first started beating after his mother left, he said nothing. He felt it was an unnecessary burden to put on the people that truly loved him. Eventually, the bruises and scars were too overwhelming to keep a secret anymore and he began to confess all his issues to his friends. But even then, as JJ tried to open up to the people he cared the most about, there was one thing he could never share.

He was scared of love.

Not just any love, but specifically romantic love. Every time he felt himself begin to develop deep feelings for anyone, he soon backpedaled and left them hanging. It was too scary to give himself to anyone. It would be a lie if he said it had nothing to do with his mother leaving. He had always believed that there was no love greater than his parents when he was growing up and when his mother left, it shattered him. Of course, he never blamed her for leaving considering how abusive his dad was but it killed JJ to know she did not want him to come with her. He had begun to believe that she didn’t think he was important to bring along. He believed that if she truly loved him, she wouldn’t leave without him. That’s what scared him the most; the fact that someone can change their mind about love so quickly.

So, JJ ran at the first sign of love. And he never shared this with anyone. Until that day.

In early June, when Y/N had first moved to OBX, there was a Start of Summer Fair. Right after classes ended on the last day of school, people in the community organized a fair for everyone who was excited for the summer to start. It was exactly two weeks after Y/N had moved in. Exactly two hours after she spoke to Rafe. Funny how the world works.

Behind the fair, there was a small lake where rarely anyone ventured. It was usually muddy and no one in their right mind would go swimming there. With that being said, JJ wanted to go swimming there. He had spent a solid hour with his friends at the fair before becoming exhausted. It wasn’t so much that his friends were exhausting him but a girl named Anna was. He had gone out with her once and had never called her back (as per usual) but she had not picked up on the hidden messages JJ had given her. Instead, she followed him around during his entire time at the fair like a little lost puppy dog. Just as she announced she was going to the bathroom, JJ had almost died from boredom. Thankfully, her going to the bathroom let JJ slip away from his friends and sneak away from Anna.

“What do you want us to tell her?” Kie asked, watching as her best friend was breaking off from the group.

JJ shrugged, not possibly being able to care less. “I don’t care. For all I care, tell her I died.” A bit harsh, yes, but that’s how JJ operated. Abandon them before they abandon you.

The idea to hide near the lake hit him as soon as he left his friends. No one went back there, not if they wanted an infection. Although slightly disgusting, if that was what he had to do to get away and have a moment of peace, he would make that sacrifice. Unfortunately, he found no peace because the second the lake came into view between two thick trees, JJ saw a girl in the water. At first, he was going to leave, maybe even shout a quick joke her way for getting in the dirty water. But when he saw what she was doing, he became curious and couldn’t help but venture forward and investigate.

Y/N, too invested in what she was currently doing, did not see JJ approaching at first. Daisies had begun to grow around the lake, which was already odd on it’s own, but some of them floated on the surface level of the lake. Y/N thought a bunch of Daisies would be a good surprise for her mother so, in an effort to be thoughtful, she emerged herself, from the waist down, into the water. She was not afraid of the muddy water staining her white dress (she had worse stains on her clothes), even excited to show her mother the lengths she went to to get the Daisies. So, with one hand, she held onto a wicker basket full of Daisies and with the other hand, she grabbed a hold of the daisies in the water.

JJ watched in complete and utter fascination as this girl who he did not recognize, fearlessly went into the lake and plucked some Daisies to put in her basket. She almost didn’t even look real. He blinked quickly to make sure she was even actually there. When he opened his eyes and she was still there, he was glad he hadn’t imagined her.

Finally, Y/N sensed a presence that was not her own. Quickly turning to her right, she made eye contact with JJ and her face softened. He was the least threatening person she’d ever seen and something about him made her heartbeat pick up.

She brushed this feeling off and instead, with a small smile on her lips, spoke confidently. “Hello stalker.”

JJ blushed, shoving his hands into his pockets and taking a few steps closer to the lake. “I’m sorry. Was just wondering what you’re doing here. No one comes here.”

“You’re here, aren’t you?” Y/N quips backs, a playfulness in her voice.

JJ thinks he might faint. “Um, well, I’m hiding.”

Y/N giggled. “Me too actually.” She grabs more daisies and puts them in her basket. She looks back up at JJ and speaks to him again. “Who are you hiding from?”

JJ gulps. He doesn’t want to scare away this girl by telling her why he’s come back here. He knows anyone else would judge him but, as he looks at her, he can see she would never judge him. “I’m hiding from a girl.”

Y/N nods, not expressing any disgust and JJ’s heart jumps for joy. “I see. Ex-lover, I presume?”

JJ shrugs. “We only went on one date.”

“Must’ve been a terrible date.” She jokes, and JJ realizes that she’s completely stopped what she’s been doing to listen to him.

JJ shakes his head, focused on her cute round cheeks. “Not really. She was nice.”

Y/N pouts. “Then why are you hiding from her?”

JJ feels as though it is too complicated to explain. And besides, how would he start? He’s never told anyone why he truly has never had a girlfriend. But something about this girl makes him trust her completely. He knows it’s the arrogance in her eyes. “I’m scared.”

Y/N nods, as if she understands him completely and he feels as though she does. “I see. You know, when I get irrationally anxious over something like this, I play the What If game.”

JJ’s brows pull together in confusion. “What?”

Y/N moves through the water and closer to the edge where JJ stands. When she arrives at the water’s edge, she reaches her hand out for JJ to grasp. He hesitates first and knows it’s because he likes her so much already and this will be the first time they will touch. The first time he’ll feel her skin against his is beside this muddy lake. Eventually, he grabs her hand and helps her out of the water and he knows, the second his hand touches hers, she’s his dream girl. His hands are on fire and he feels a pit in his stomach grow as her hand grips tighter onto him. There’s a spark and he’s sure there has never been anyone else that made him feel this way.

“The What If game,” Y/N starts, placing her basket on the ground. She starts to ring out the water from her dress but continues to keep eye contact with JJ. “is really easy. Here; tell me a fear you have about falling in love but make sure it starts with ‘what if.’”

JJ thinks for a moment. There are so many and he doesn’t know where to start. Finally, he chooses his biggest fear. “What if she leaves?”

Y/N smiles. “What if she doesn’t though? But, what if she does and then you find who you’re actually supposed to be with? The game is to just rationalize every irrational fear.”

JJ nods, a small smirk growing at the corner of his lips. “You’re not one of those girls who believes every breakup brings you closer to your soulmate?”

Y/N laughs. “Yeah, I wish. I’m not your manic pixie dream girl - wait, what's your name?”

JJ extends his hand, ready to feel her skin again. “JJ Maybank. Yours?”

Y/N smiles and shakes JJ’s hand. This should be interesting, she thinks. “It’s Y/N.”

“So, Y/N,” JJ starts, her name feeling good coming from his mouth. “If you’re not my manic pixie dream girl, then what are you?”

Y/N smiles. She was right. This is definitely going to be interesting. “I’m just yours.”

~

tagging; @tovvaa​

[route22ny]

What My Korean Father Taught Me About Defending Myself in America

Born in 1939 during what would be the last years of the Japanese colonial occupation of Korea, my father, Choung Tai Chee, also called Charles or Chuck or Charlie, came to the United States in 1960. He was flashy, cocky, unafraid, it seemed, of anything. Wherever we were in the world, he seemed at home, right up until near the end of his life, when he was hospitalized after a car accident that left him in a coma. Only in that hospital bed, his head shaved for surgery, did he look out of place to me.

A tae kwon do champion by the age of 18 in Korea, he had begun studying martial arts at age 8, eventually teaching them as a way to put himself through graduate school, first in engineering and then oceanography, in Texas, California, and Rhode Island. He loved the teaching. The rising popularity of martial arts in the 1960s in Hollywood meant he made celebrity friends like Frank Sinatra Jr., Paul Lynde, Sal Mineo, and Peter Fonda, who my father said had fixed him up on a date with his sister, Jane, in the days before Barbarella. A favorite photo from his time in Texas shows him flying through the air, a human horseshoe, each of his bare feet breaking a board held shoulder high on each side by his students.

When I complained about my wet boots during the winters growing up in Maine, he told me stories about running barefoot in the snow in Korea to harden his feet for tae kwon do. His answer to many of my childhood complaints was usually that I had to be tougher, stronger, prepared for any attack or disaster. The lesson his generation took from those they lost to the Korean War was that death was always close, and I know now that he was doing all he could to teach me to protect myself. When I cried at the beach at the water’s edge, afraid of the waves, he threw me in. “No son of mine is going to be afraid of the ocean,” he said. When I first started swimming lessons, he told me I had to be a strong swimmer, in case the boat I was on went down, so I could swim to shore. When he taught me to body-surf, he taught me about how to know the approach of an undertow, and how to survive a riptide. When I lacked a competitive streak, he took to racing me at something I loved—swimming underwater while holding my breath. I was an asthmatic child, but soon, intent on beating him, I could swim 50 yards this way at a time.

For all of that, he was an exceedingly gentle father. He took me snorkeling on his back, when I was five, telling me we were playing at being dolphins. There he taught me the names of the fish along the reef where we lived in Guam. He would praise the highlights in my hair, and laugh, calling me “Apollo.” And as for any pressure regarding my future career, he offered something very rare for a Korean man of his generation. “Be whatever you want to be,” he told me. “Just be the best at it that you can possibly be.”

Only when I was older did I understand the warning about being strong enough to swim to shore in another context, when I learned the boat he and his family had fled in from what was about to become North Korea nearly sank in a storm. In Seoul as a child, he scavenged food for his family with his older brother, coming home with bags of rice found on overturned military supply trucks, while his father went to the farms, collecting gleanings. His attempts to teach me to strip a chicken clean of its meat make a different sense now. I had thought of him as an immigrant without thinking about how the Korean War made him one of the dispossessed, almost a refugee, all before he left Korea.

When I began getting into fights as a child in the U.S., he put me into classes in karate and tae kwon do for these same reasons. He loved me and he wanted me to be strong. I just wasn’t sure how I was supposed to take on a whole country.

We moved to Maine in 1973, when I was six years old. My father had taken us back to Korea after I was born, to work for his father, and then moved us around the Pacific—from Seoul to the islands of Truk, Kawaii, and Guam, in his and my mother’s attempts to set up a fisheries company. Maine was his next experiment, and not coincidentally, my mother’s home state. On my first day of the first grade, in the cafeteria, after a morning spent in what seemed like reasonably friendly classes, my troubles began when I went up to take an empty seat at a table and the blond haired, blue-eyed white boy seated there looked up with some alarm and asked me, “Are you a chink?”

“What’s a chink?” I asked, though I knew it wasn’t a compliment. I had never heard this word before.

“A Chinese person. You look like a chink. Is that why your face is so flat?”

This was also the first day I can remember being insulted about my appearance.

“I am not Chinese,” I said that day, naively. In a few years I would learn I was in fact part Chinese, 41 generations back, but at that moment, I tried to explain to him about how I was half Korean, a nationality and situation he had never heard of before. Half of what? And so this was also the first day I had to explain myself to someone who didn’t care, who had already decided against me.

He was a white boy from America, and he was repeating insults that seem to me to have come from a secret book passed out to white children everywhere in this country, telling them to call someone Asian “Chink,” to walk up to them, muttering “Ching-chong, ching-chong.” To sing a song, “My mother’s Chinese, my father’s Japanese, I’m all mixed up,” pulling their eyes first down and then up and then alternating up and down.

I was struck, watching Minari a few months ago, when the film’s Korean immigrant protagonist, David, is asked by a white boy in Arkansas in the 1980s why his face is so flat. “It’s not,” David says, forcefully—so many of us have this memory of someone saying this to us and responding that way. Why did a boy in Arkansas and a boy in Maine, in their small towns thousands of miles apart, before the internet, each know to make this insult?

When I got home from that first day at school, I asked my mother what the word “Chink” meant, and she flinched and covered her mouth in concern.

“Who said that to you?” she asked, and I told her. I don’t remember the conversation that followed, just the swift look of concern on her face. The sense that something had found us.

I was the only Asian-American student at my school in 1973, and the first many of my classmates had ever met. When my brother joined me at school three years later, he was the second. When my sister arrived, four years after him, she was the third. My mother is white, a blonde-haired, blue-eyed American, born in Maine to a settler family. I have six ancestors who fought in the Revolutionary War, but none of them had to fight this. I don’t know how to separate the teasing, harassment, and bullying that marked my 12 years of life there from that first racist welcome. It makes me question whether I really had a “temper” as a child, as I was told, or whether I was merely isolated by racism among racists, afraid and angry?

My father dealt with racism throughout most of his life by acting as if it had never happened—as if admitting it made it more powerful. He knew bullies loved to see their victims react and would tell me to not let what they said upset me. “Why do you care what they think of you?” he would say, and laugh as he clapped me on the shoulder. “They’re all going to work for you someday.”

“Don’t get even, get ahead,” was another of his slogans for me at these times. As if America was a race we were going to win.

Two decades after his death, writing in my diary while on a subway in New York City, I began counting off all of my activities as a child—choir, concert band, swimming, karate and tae kwon do, clarinet, indoor track, downhill and cross country skiing—and I asked myself if my parents were trying to raise Batman. Then I looked down to the insignia on my Batman t-shirt, and I laughed.

These lessons my father gave me—to be the best you can be, to fight off your enemies and defeat them, to swim to safety if the boat sinks, and in general toughen yourself against everything that would harm you—these I had absorbed alongside certain unspoken lessons, taken from observing his life as a Korean immigrant. To have two names, one American, known to the public, and one Korean, known only to a few intimates; to get rid of your accent; and to dress well as a way to keep yourself above suspicion. Did I need to train like a superhero just to be a person in America? Maybe.

But if I thought of superheroes, it was because my father was like one to me, training me to be like him.

One legend I heard about my father when I was growing up is the story of a night he was being held up at gunpoint, while he was unpacking his car. Whoever it was asked him to shut the trunk and turn around and raise his hands in the air. He agreed to, slamming the car trunk down so forcefully, he sank his fingertips into the metal.

By the time he turned around, the would-be stick-up artist was gone.

He would often ask me and my brother to punch him, as hard as we could, in his stomach. He was proud of his abdominal strength—it was like punching a wall. We would shake our hands, howling, and he would laugh and rub our heads. One time he even used it as a gag to stop a bully.

A boy on my street had developed the habit of changing the rules during our games if his team started losing. We had fights over it that could be heard up and down the street, and one day I chased him with a Wiffle bat, him laughing as I ran. My father stepped in the next time he tried to change the rules during a game and prevented it, telling him all games in his yard had to have the same rules at the beginning as the end—you couldn’t change them when you were losing. When the boy got mad, he said, “I bet you want to hit me, you should hit me. You’ll feel better. Hit me right here, in the stomach, as hard as you can.”

The boy hauled off and punched my dad in the stomach. I knew what was coming. The boy went home crying, shaking his hand at the pain. His mom came over and they had a talk. The rule-changing stopped.

I tried teasing my classmates back after being told to by my father. Stand-up as self-defense requires practice, though: During a “Where are you from?” exercise in the second grade, I told my classmates and teacher I had “Made in Korea” stamped on my ass, which elicited shocked laughter and a punishment from my teacher. I remember the glee when I called a classmate an ignoramus, and he didn’t know what it meant—and got angrier and angrier when I wouldn’t tell him, demanding that I explain the insult. When told to go back to where I came from, I said, “You first.”

Increasingly, I just hid, in the library, in books. When given detention, I exulted in the chance to be alone and read. I was an advanced student compared to my classmates, due in part to my mother being a schoolteacher, and I learned to make my intelligence a weapon.

The day several boys held me down on my street and ran their bicycles over my legs, to see if I could take it, as if maybe I wasn’t human, that felt like some new horrible level. I don’t remember how that ended or if I ever told anyone, just the feeling of the bicycle tires rolling over the skin of my legs. The day I bragged about my father being a martial artist to my classmates, they locked me in the bathroom and told me to fight my way out with kung fu, calling me “Hong Kong Phooey,” after the cartoon character, as they held the door shut. This was the fourth grade. After I got out of that bathroom and went home, I told my father about it, and he told me it was time to take tae kwon do. I had to learn to defend myself.

I would never be like him, never break boards like him, but for a while, I tried. I still cherish the day he gave me my first gi and showed me how to tie it. I learned I had a natural flexibility, which meant I could easily kick high, and I took pride in my roundhouse and reverse roundhouse kicks. But after a few years, my father took issue with a story he’d heard about my teacher’s arrogance toward his opponents, and he pulled me out of the classes. “It is very dangerous to teach in that spirit,” he told me. And he said something I would never forget. “The best fighter in tae kwon do never fights,” he said. “He always finds another way.”

I have thought about this for a long time. For the ordinary practitioner, tae kwon do and karate prepare you to go about your life, aware of what to do in case of assault. They offer no guarantee, just chances for preparedness in the face of the violence of others as well as the violence within yourself. At the time I felt my father was describing the responsibility that comes with knowing how to hurt someone, but I came to understand it as a principled if conditional non-violence, which, in this year of quarantine and rising racist violence, is one of the clearest legacies he left to me.

Like many of us, I have been trying to write about these most recent attacks on Asian-Americans, some of them in my old neighborhood in New York, and I keep starting and stopping. How do we protect ourselves and those we love? Can writing do that? I know I learned to use my intelligence as a weapon to keep myself safe from racists, starting as a child, and suddenly it doesn’t feel like enough. The violence is like a puzzle with many moving parts, but the stakes are life and death. “You’re really going to homework your way through this one?” I keep asking myself. The people attacking Asians and Asian Americans now are like the boy I met on my first day in the first grade. They don’t care whether or not we are actually Chinese—the primary experience Asian Americans have in common is mis-identification. The person who gets a patriotic ego boost off of calling me a “chink” isn’t going to check if they’re right about me, and I don’t imagine they’ll stop their fist or their gun if I say, “You’re just doing this because of America’s history of war in Asia,” even though we both know this is true. And so I have been thinking of my father and what he taught me.

The most overt way my father fought racism in front of me involved no fighting at all. He founded a group called the Korean American Friendship Association of Maine, which helped new Korean immigrants move to Maine and find work, community, and housing, along with offering lessons on how to open bank accounts, pay taxes, file immigration paperwork, and get drivers’ licenses. For both of my parents, community organizing, activism, and mutual aid like this were commitments they shared and enjoyed and passed along to us, their children, and this led to much of my own work as an activist, teacher, and writer. I am not my father, but I am much as he made me.

There’s a difference between fighting racists and fighting racism. Where my father stayed silent, I have learned I have to speak out, which has felt, even while writing this, a little like betraying him. And as a biracial gay Korean American man, I don’t experience the same identifications or misidentifications he did. I am mistaken for white, or at least “not Asian,” as often as I’m mistaken for Chinese, and have felt like a secret agent as people speak in front of me about Asians in ways they would not otherwise. I learned most of my adult coping strategies for street violence from queer activist organizations after college.

Even as I write, “I wonder if he ever felt fear living in America,” it feels like a betrayal, especially as he isn’t around for me to ask him. I think again about how my father always made a point of dressing well, for example, but it always felt like more than that. Men wearing suits as a kind of armor, that isn’t so strange. He had his suits made at J. Press, wore handmade English leather shoes—shoes that fit me. I sometimes wear them for special occasions. Among my favorite objects of his is a monogrammed J. Press canvas briefcase, the name “CHEE” in embossed leather between the straps. After his father gave him an Omega Constellation watch when I was born, he eventually acquired others. For a time I thought he did this aspirationally, but most of his family in Korea is like this: Well-dressed, with a preference for tailoring and handmade clothes. All of my memories of my uncles coming from the airport to visit us involve them arriving in their blazers.

The first time I followed my father’s advice to wear a sports jacket when flying, I received a spontaneous upgrade. I didn’t have frequent flyer miles and the person checking me in was not flirting with me either. There was nothing but the moment of grace, and the feeling that my father, from beyond the grave, was making a point as I sat down in my new, larger, more spacious seat. Because I had never tried out this advice while he was alive.

Like much of my father’s advice, it came from his keen awareness of social contexts, and it worked. His wardrobe came from the pleasure of a dare more than a disguise. You don’t acquire a black and gold silk brocade smoking jacket in suburban Maine because you want to fit in with your white neighbors. Sometimes his clothes were a charm offensive, sometimes just a sass. The jacket advice may well have been an anticipation of racist treatment, of a piece with perfecting his English so he had no accent, and raising us to speak only English. My mother spoke more Korean to us as children than he did—a remnant of her time living in Seoul.

Now that I am old enough to choose to learn Korean, I still feel like a child disobeying him, just as I do when I dress too casually, or acknowledge that I’ve experienced racism. I know I am just making different choices, as you do when you are grown, but also, I am stepping out from behind his program to protect myself. I feel the fears he never spoke about, and instead simply addressed with what now look like tactics. At these moments I miss him as much as I ever do, but especially for how I would tell him, this may have protected you. It won’t protect me.

In my kitchen the other day, as I was making coffee, I fell into the ready stance, with my right foot back, left foot forward, and snapped my right leg up and out in a front snap kick. This is the basic first kick you learn in tae kwon do. And you do it again, and again, and again, until it is muscle memory. You move across the room this way and then turn to begin again.

I wasn’t sure if my form was exactly right, but it felt good. Memories came back of the sweaty smell of the practice room, the other students, the mirrors on the walls, the fluorescent lights. All those years ago, I had thought my father had put me in those classes in order to become him, but as I sent my practice kicks through the air, I remembered how even learning them made me feel safer, protected at least by the knowledge that he loved me. I could not have said this at the time, but after those attacks, I had feared I wasn’t strong enough to be his son.

I still fear that. I suppose it drives me, even now. It is dehumanizing to insist on your humanity, even and perhaps especially now, and so I am not doing that here. Each time I’ve tried to write even this, a rage takes over, and then the only thing I want to do with my hands doesn’t involve writing, and I stop. But I know from learning to fight that hitting someone else means using yourself to do it. My father’s advice, about fighting being the last resort, has given me another lesson: You turn yourself into the weapon when you strike someone else—in the end, another way to erase yourself—and so you do that last. In the meantime, you fight that first fight with yourself, for yourself.

You may never be able to protect what you love, but at least you can try. At least you will be ready.

Alexander Chee is most recently the author of the essay collection How to Write an Autobiographical Novel. A novelist and essayist, he teaches at Dartmouth College and lives in Vermont.

[impala1967dwinchester]

Dean Winchester: De

*Credit to gif owner* 

Pairing: BigBrother!Dean x Younger Brother!Sam (Mentions of John, Dean is 8 and Sam is 4) 

Pov: Deans 

Warnings: Fluff, maybe a bit of yelling from John, cute baby Sam, a back story from Deans pov of course

Summary: After Dean spends so much time with Sam as a baby, Sam says his first words.

A/n- Yeah I know the GIF is from the first season, but babyfaces. GIving me vibes

Word Count: 1.1k

Masterlist 

(Deans Masterlink) 

Taglist: @akshi8278​ @deanswaywardgirl​ @hit-meup69 @doctorlilo

Sometimes, Dad yells at me when he comes stumbling in through the motels' door. Yeah, I'm only eight, but I guess I've just had to grow up quicker than a normal eight-year-old.

Sammy my younger brother who's four is always and I mean always attached to my hips. Always asking me when's daddy coming home, or when we're going to get another room? He's a pretty sharp kiddo for being four years old.

I'd say he's a lot sharper than I was at the age of four, but then again I don't remember much about age four. All I do remember is that one day there was our mother kissing Sammy's forehead saying a sweet good night to him, and the next I'm running out with Sammy in my arms, looking at my younger brother's room go up in flames.

I guess not having mom around made things hard for Sammy and Dad. Dad never spent time with Sam, worried about the things in the dark as he phrased it to me.

"Now you promise me, Dean. That you'll take care of your younger brother no matter what!" John said his large hand pressing rather hard into my tiny shoulder.

You'd think Dad would already know that I've taken care of Sammy for the past four years. Taught him how to brush his teeth, color in between the lines took naps with him in the back of the impala, or falling asleep in the crappy motels that always stunk.

"Yes, sir." Was the only thing I ever said to my father anymore.

He wasn't there as Sam took his first steps, his first birthday, he missed his first birthday. I was only five years old, and there I sat in a motel room with a one-year-old who was quiet. Since thank god he was asleep right now.

Hell for a kiddo that was only six months old when our mother, he was strangely quiet like I was. I never said more than what was needed, I always made sure Sammy had his food before I.

I made sure that kid was safe and in caring arms before thinking of myself. Because thinking of myself wasn't allowed, not in this world that Dad had created.

I guessed before we started to bounce from motel to motel Dad had brought some of my things from when I was a baby, like my building blocks, some he-man dolls, and some of the cards that had letters on them.

That's what I did with Sam in my free time, birthdays later and Sam can move the cards around to make the certain word I'm talking about.

"Now how about we do the word 'Carrot'" I said putting the cards out in front of Sam's grabby fingers and hands. Moving things around making the word, and then going off and chucking them out of his hands and all over the floor.

"Well, I thought that this was going to go better," I said getting up and grabbing the cards. We did this process over and over again. I'd hand him a few cards and then Sam would chuck them into the air.

"Okay, Sammy I know that you don't wanna do this but maybe just say one word just for me. Hell, say Daddy, or Dean. Just help me out here." I said, starting to give up.

He didn't and he continued to give me a hard time about the cards and saying pretty much anything. We stopped and I grabbed him from the high chair.

I cooked dinner and set the table and set down Sammy for him to eat. He sat and ate his food before Dad got home.

Again another night of Dad coming back through the motel's door and ragging at me, every time I made sure that Sam was put down for bed.

I was supposed to protect my younger brother and that... that was the only way I know how to protect him. I was okay with taking the brunt of dad's abuse.

The brunt of Dad's abuse was usually him yelling, and screaming at me. There wasn't physical abuse, but I'd been dealing with a drunk, abusive dad for a while now. Since mom had died.

Regardless, I thought that Sam was asleep, so I left the room closing the door just enough so the dim light from the kitchen didn't bother him.

"Where s'my dinner Dean?" John asked me. I stuttered over my words and fiddled with my hands. "Boy, you better answer me!" John said raising his voice at me.

"Sir, I didn't have any time. I've been taking care of Sammy all day long." I said panic and worry starting to flow through my words.

"Boy, don't you make your brother an excuse. You should be able to take care of Sam, me, and yourself." John said, getting up, and hovering over my much shorter stature.

"I didn't teach you everything I did just for you to come out as a sissy. You're a marine's son, you're a hunter's son." John said, raising his hand to hurt me in whatever shape.

I hadn't heard the bedroom door open or seen little Sam waddle his way into the room. "De?" Sam said.

There was a moment of silence. A moment where we, dad and I were frozen in place. "What?" I said looking over at Sam. His already long hair in a messy mop on his head. The long dinosaur t-shirt hanging long on his short stature.

"De?" He said moving his head to the side.

"Yeah, De. What's up buddy?" I said moving rather quickly to be away from John. Picking Sam up and hooking him onto my hip. He just grabbed my neck and pulled himself closer to me.

"Dean was... was that Sam's first word?" He said settling onto the motel bed. The springs became rather loud as his weight balanced through the bed.

"I'm pretty sure, sir," I said, rubbing down Sams back trying to lul him back to sleep. "Do you wanna go to daddy?" I whispered to Sam. All Sam did was shake his head, and then repeated "De."

'Good night dad." I said walking back into the room I had placed Sam in hours ago. "Good night son," John said as I shut the door. "Let's go to bed now Sammy," I said.

Sam nuzzled up in my chest, falling asleep before he even hit the bed. I smiled and climbed into the bed. Making sure to always be there and protect my little brother. I love Sam, and he’s mine to protect, he’s my baby brother.

Completed on: 04/18/2021

[fandom-hoarder]

listen I have so many questions about Stanford Sam, like this kid who was raised in the wild, barely aware of acceptable social conduct arrives with his 2 ectoplasm stained t-shirts at his dorm and like ????? is he very aware of it at first? or does he think he's hiding it well? and like moving in with Jessica?????? he doesn't know how to water plants and that you have to pay electricity bills ??? Like obviously he's not stupid, we know that!! But there are certain things about ordinary everyday life that are just impossible to pick up when you're raised like that. And this is just surface-level stuff, like I feel overwhelmed just thinking about how many tiny things I do in a day, just normal life stuff that I've always done, that Sam would be like ???? so weirded out by, or maybe creepily fascinated ??? Would he try and copy everyone around him maybe??? and then all the odd things that he'd probably do !!! like just basic marine survival nonsense he's dad probably taught him applied in mundane life situations that would make him stand out and he wouldn't even notice !!! And he thinks he's doing fine, people seem to accept him, but then suddenly someone mentions like... TRL or something and he's like ??? and then Dean picks him up and it all falls to pieces, because it's so EASY and ingrained and he doesn't have to pretend and it puts it into perspective how not okay he was doing at Stanford even when it felt like he was ?? god I'm just rambling, like I barely even have headcanons, I'm just so overwhelmed by all the possibilities of how this would play out !!!!

Holy crap, first I wanna apologize if this has been sitting here awhile. The Ask notification location in settings instead of notifications on the app is so weird and I get them so rarely I don’t think to check. (and the website shows that I have 4 but this one is the only one it’ll show? How does tumblr work? Oh yeah, it doesn’t lol.)

Anyway, I have so many thoughts on this! But they’re not necessarily cohesive?! Like first we all know Sam is super smart. He’s curious. He’s inquisitive. But he’s also sheltered in weird ways. There are things he’s known about the world that most people would never know about, let alone kids his age at any given time; yet the existence of those things--and the understanding that therefore potentially anything could be real--also lends itself to keeping him childlike--he had an “imaginary friend” at age nine and believed in the Easter bunny through age eleven, which is much later than the average probably???

By middle school, he definitely would’ve been feeling the strains of his otherness around his classmates, even if they weren’t constantly moving around, but of course the nomadic lifestyle just makes it even harder.

I think Sam is a very observant person, though. He figured out something was up with their dad and The Truth at age 8! So people watching is Sam’s saving grace for getting along in the mundane world. He definitely learns to mask his otherness by mimicking mundane people.

And I get sidetracked here because then I start thinking about exactly how their childhood went. We know John used Pastor Jim and Bobby as childcare/parenting support to some degree. I don’t think we really know anything about Caleb, maybe I’m forgetting something, but my headcanon is that Caleb functioned as a “fun younger uncle” type to Sam and Dean: cool, responsible in a pinch, but mostly not given childcare responsibilities because of his wilding tendencies. (they learn swears accidentally from Bobby and John, but Caleb TEACHES them.) Sam and Dean didn’t even know about Missouri until s1, so she’s off the caretaker list. They had that babysitter they met up with in uhh... Swap Meat! But largely we assume that Dean had a lot of the caretaking responsibilities; maybe with temporary babysitters in other places the same as Swap Meat.

And lbh you just can’t expect well-rounded, informed child-rearing from a kid only four years older. There’s a reason I associate a lot of weechester flashbacks with Sammy watching TV like in Something Wicked, because literally little siblings are A LOT and sometimes you just want them to sit still and quiet and leave you alone for a bit omg.(wait, give me a minute, I’m imagining little 6 year old Dean on the phone with Bobby because John ran out for food supplies and isn’t back yet and Sammy is still asleep but Dean’s creeped out in the longterm room they’re staying in because he KNOWS about the supernatural already. but then bobby gets on John’s case about it--and instead of never leaving Dean alone with baby Sam again, Dean learns from John’s belt not to call anyone when he’s left alone unless it’s an ACTUAL EMERGENCY. Or maybe, because marine, John doesn’t use his belt; maybe he uses PT instead and every time Dean thinks about calling Bobby for that reason again, his abs ache from the memory of punishment situps, or his arms get suddenly shaky thinking about doing pushups til he just couldn’t anymore.)

I haven’t read all of John’s Journal, and I know it’s not actually canon, but IIRC the bits that I’ve read from the wiki show John and the boys staying with a family friend in Lawrence for a few weeks, MAYBE a few months before John visits Missouri and everything STARTS. I think if he hadn’t picked up and left with them then, the family friends would’ve been contacting CPS because they’re starting to think John’s grief is making him unhinged. (I really want to read the journal tbh--there are bits I’ve seen that make me fantasize even more about boyking!sam storylines... but I’m getting even more off track.)

So we’ve got this weird/interesting dichotomy of kids that are groomed with these hyperspecialiizations, too weird to really fit in with other kids but sheltered from the actual hunter life also--like the fact that there ARE other hunters, like as a THING, not just their dad’s rando friends that, as kids, they may just assume know about the supernatural because their dad told them! (jfc they’re SO PRIMED to be each other’s entire world omg I’m gonna die)

So like, by being quiet and observant (an imaginative kid, by nature and by nurture as John starts to take Dean out more and leave Sam alone with his own thoughts), Sam would pick up a lot of things. But they’re never anywhere long enough for him to fully grasp everything and he would definitely suffer a bit from the Dunning-Kruger effect--not having enough knowledge about a thing, but having just enough that you don’t realize you don’t.

Let’s say Sam observes and picks up some things about normal residential life by being around a few mundane babysitters. The nature of John’s “work” would mean that, even if they were in a more in-home-daycare-like situation, they’d be likely to be the “after hours” kinds of kids that are still there when everyone else is picked up and the babysitter would normally be doing their normal life stuff: changing clothes, cleaning up from the daycare kids, making dinner, etc (sam and dean would definitely help, either out of kindness or duty or because it’s agreed that if they help out John will get a discount on their care costs--don’t mind me, just projecting my childhood onto the winchesters hahh. I’m NOT going to go off on a tangent about Dean already having so much experience caring for babies cuz of Sam. He definitely doesn’t have all the under-4s following him around begging for attention while he burps one of the three babies their babysitter cares for after a bottle. it DEFINITELY didn’t make Sam (age 4, 5, 6 maybe) jealous enough to repress the memory so that over a decade later he would claim that Dean doesn’t even LIKE kids.)

Uhh... what was I talking about? Oh yeah, Sam. Observing normal life. Anyway so maybe after things settle for the day, sometimes a babysitter will sit at the dining table with the weekly bills and their checkbook and do the bills. And Sam kind of loves things like this: it feels like something important; it feels like playing school before he was old enough to go (quick aside here: John totally enrolled Sam in school early, both because that’s the only way his age works with canon timeline and because it would make life easier if Sam was in school just like Dean--more cost-and-time efficient.) And maybe Sam goes and sits at the table and just. Watches.

And then he asks questions. When he’s curious, he doesn’t keep his questions to himself as a child (unless the subject is expressly forbidden: see Dean’s reaction when Sam brings up Mary). But his age would inevitably limit the scope and understanding of those questions. Adults are generally disinclined to fully explain the adult world to children, especially when it comes to finances, and in the 80s and early 90s?? With most of the adults of that time that I knew, those kinds of questions were considered rude and nosey. He might understand that adults have to pay bills; he may even understand something about utilities; but he wouldn’t necessarily understand all the requirements and frequency.

Though their nomadic lifestyle wasn’t stable by any “normal” definition, one thing to be said about mostly living out of motels is that your power is never cut off, or your water, or your heat. There’s always television, usually with cable. And the only form of payment you see going on is dad handing over cash or plastic at the front desk--one and done. My headcanon usually disallows the idea that they would’ve squatted in empty houses when Sam and Dean were kids (John makes plenty of bad decisions but I just don’t see him staying in a place without power or water with CHILDREN. Teenagers? SURE.) They would learn how to clean house and make proper beds even when it wasn’t always necessary with housekeeping available--both because of John’s military parenting style and because John would be most likely to opt out of daily housekeeping to lower the risk of having people ask questions.

So yeah, there are so many little intricacies of the mundane world that Sam wouldn’t be conditioned to even think about. Even the realization that he doesn’t know enough about regular life, as he grows up and longs more and more for that very thing because he’s never had more than a glimpse of it, wouldn’t necessarily be enough.

Would his natural curiosity lead him to ask those questions? He can’t ask John because he already asked Dean and got a dismissive answer because ‘what does any of that matter, Sam? we’ll never have to worry about that shit.’ and if Dean seems borderline offended by the sheer audacity of the questions in the first place, he knows John will be worse.

In the 90s, life skills were still kind of a thing in most U.S. schools. But in a really inconsistent way. Sometimes it was in health class curriculum; sometimes your math class would actually do a short focus on balancing a checkbook and banking if there was a chapter, but a lot of times those parts get skipped. You never use the whole textbook. Sometimes life skills was only in Home Ec, but H.E. was completely elective in my area when I was in middle school (the same exact years Sam would’ve been in middle school) and I’m assuming the same for most of the U.S. Sam may have taken it, or he may have taken something else instead (wood shop or computer class were the alternatives in my area). Maybe the nature of school hopping meant that he HAD to enroll in Home Ec, because resources for the other electives were finite, but somehow always managed to miss the bills and budgeting portion. Maybe he couldn’t even take Home Ec due to class size or resources and they just put him in a study hall for that period. (Maybe they put him in the computer class, where he mostly does book work until he gets a turn on the PC he has to share with his classmate.)

As an observant person, Sam totally would’ve known about TRL, I think. There’s no way at least one group of kids in the halls or lunchroom wasn’t talking about it every day in high school, especially with the advent of Britney Spears and Eminem and Jesse freakin Camp. Maybe he goes to someone’s house to try to hang out or to study and they turn it on and Sam watches raptly because it’s such a strange phenomenon and he hardly ever gets to hear new music, much less watch the videos. But he can’t actually get into it because the fangirls are annoying and his analytical mind won’t let him suspend his disbelief about how the voting works. (Maybe he tries giving it another shot in their motel room sometimes, but Dean vetoes that bubblegum pop shit IMMEDIATELY--no Sam, look, that shit isn’t REAL music; most of them don’t even play instruments. And it’s really not fair because Dean TOTALLY watched MTV’s The Grind in the early 90s for his fix of suggestively gyrating bodies before he figured out how to access porn without getting caught.)

Sam and Dean actually make a LOT of pop culture references, which always fascinates me. I imagine they did a lot of TV watching and VCR/movie renting in the times they weren’t working on a case with/for their dad (projecting again; my dad’s house was a very boring place on his weekends). The nature of Dean’s idolization of John and disinclination to let Sam have his own separate likes means they have a mix of age-appropriate pop culture knowledge and a lot of Boomer-era TV and movie knowledge--Dean more than Sam, maybe when it comes to things like cowboy movies and TV lol.

Anyway, as the realization that he doesn’t really know how anything works crept in, maybe Sam would try to lowkey create situations where he could ask his friends/his friends’ parents those normal life kind of questions. But maybe after his first few tries, he’s become so uncomfortably aware of how weird he is to even need to ask that he stops asking. Maybe he starts to tap into his specialized skills and starts snooping/creeping around their houses to try to glean knowledge. Maybe he scours the library for books on ���what you need to know for life’--I have the urge now to do a google search on actual titles of books on this subject that may have existed at the time, but I’ve already spent a lot of time on this without going into research spirals. lol Maybe he can’t find exactly the things that are pertinent--still doesn’t fully realize that, though--and in the meantime his cache of esoteric knowledge continues to build.

So he gets to Stanford and he mostly understands how the financing works; enough to get by with enrollment and stuff. He understands that he’ll need to get a job of some sort to make ends meet because he’s there to be normal and normal people don’t pay for everything with scammed credit cards and billiards money; he knows that much. But he doesn’t really know about wages, minimum wage, freaking payroll taxes, etc. (I feel like Dean would’ve had odd jobs as a teen, some legit some under the table, but that the nature of John (and Dean) wanting to keep Sam home and safe would’ve made the subject of Sam working through high school a banned topic. And anyway, much as I’m not a fan of the characterization in Drag Me Away (From You), what Dean said to Sam about the impossibility of getting into college with the way his academic career would look is accurate. So Sam would’ve probably spent most of his free time on academics so he could get the fuck out, rather than trying to get a job.

Maybe having to buy his textbooks would be a surprise? John probably always qualified for Sam and Dean to be on free lunch/free book programs in public school, not to mention the likelihood of the records being at least partially counterfeit. But at the same time, John was probably very hands off with their school enrollment crap once the boys were old enough to handle it themselves, so Sam would at least have an inkling.

Sam would be a weird mix of no-boundaries and too-secretive, and his first attempts at acting normal would be a bit too put-on. He’s got experience acting per 1x16 (oh, maybe he did drama instead of home ec somewhere lol), but acting on stage is so much different to acting in a more personal setting. On stage you have to exaggerate your movements to project all the way to the back. Early-Stanford Sam, I guess, is a bit like Soulless Sam. He knows there’s something off about him compared to the people around him, and he just does his best to pretend he’s the same as them without calling attention to his differences, which ends up coming off robotic. A little Stepford. A little uncanny valley. He learns to bite his tongue every time he’s about to let something normal only to his family roll off it; learns to be even more vague than he used to be, because now he’s around strangers ALL THE TIME.

At some point, Sam has a little-but-big breakdown about a payment he missed or the fact that he had to steal shampoo because he didn’t even have toiletries in his budget and couldn’t even afford a bottle of White Rain or Suave, so since he was stealing anyway he got the special brand he really likes and then feels too awful to even use it and doesn’t wash his hair for a week. Brady takes pity on the cute but hapless puppy-boy who is a physical and academic behemoth but has obviously been living off-grid on some kind of militia commune for the past forever--at first the rumor was that he was Amish on rumspringa but the amount of times Sam has busted out some supremely random survival knowledge in casual conversation changes that rumor quickly--and has no understanding of the world. And by the time he moves off-campus with Jess, Sam has this masking thing down pretty well; he can almost forget he’s not normal sometimes and Jess only knows about his previous helplessness in a cute, anecdotal kind of way.

And then Dean comes and gets him and Sam’s all “you and Dad still doing credit card scams?” and Dean’s like “well hunting doesn’t pay the bills.”

AND SAM’S LIKE, NEITHER DO YOU DEAN! DO YOU EVEN KNOW WHAT BILLS ARE?! BECAUSE I DIDN’T AND IT WOULD’VE BEEN NICE TO KNOW!

[gigisubsterling]

Full name? Genevieve Rochelle Sterling

Nicknames? GiGi, Gen, Genny

Date of birth? Age? Zodiac sign? February 5, 1993/Almost 29/Aquarius

Height? Build? 5′3″/Athletic

Hair color? Hair style? Blonde/Medium Length

Eye color? Eye Shape? Glasses or contact lenses? Fluctuating Blue/Slate Gray/Almond Shaped/Glasses for Reading

Which facial feature is most prominent? Which bodily feature is most prominent? Smile or Eyes/Legs

Other distinguishing features? Physically? Not really.

Skin? Hands? What are your feet like? (type of shoes, state of shoes, socks, gloves, pristine, dirty, worn, soft with lotion, calloused, long nails, fake nails, bitten nails, etc) Skin is well taken care of, smooth, and moisturized. Fingernails are kept short, but almost always painted. Toes are always manicured and painted, I cannot stand ugly feet. I wear Converse or flip-flops most of the time. I have a ton of cute slippers too, which I where whenever I can. Occasionally heels, if it’s called for and I feel like it.

Make up? Every day, except the days I don’t feel like it.

Scars? Birthmarks? Tattoos? I have a scar on the back of my left hand, which I got when I slipped trying to open a can when I was like...13? I have a dove tattooed right below my left breast. 

Type of clothes? How do you wear your clothes? My style varies, but for the most part I like being comfortable more than anything. Jeans, t-shirts, jackets, hoodies, sweatpants. I do dress up when I need to. Oh, and there’s the dance clothes. 

Race/Ethnicity? Does that affect you or how you were raised? How? White, white, white, and more white. It does, yeah. I’m aware of the privilege being Caucasian has afforded me. The privilege it has given me. Combine that with growing up in a family who was always in the spotlight, and I’d say as far as that goes, I’ve been raised like your typical white American.

Mannerisms? Sarcastic, funny, moody, temperamental, but loving and caring...If I know you well enough. 

Where were you born? Where were your parents born? Where were your grandparents’ born? How many times have you moved in your life? I was born in Colorado, in Denver actually. That’s where my family was at the time. My parents were born in separate places- My mom is originally from California, and my father is from Illinois. My grandparents were born in the respective states my parents are from, they didn’t move much or very far if they did. In my life? Too many to count. If I had to guess, probably like 8.

What are your family’s values? Do you agree? How does this affect you? (This question is gold! If you don’t answer any other questions, answer this one! You can talk about how your character and their family feels about the Master/slave monster dystopian world politics and I can use this for the group revolution plot!) My family has always been respectful of the way the world and the laws were set up, because they had to be. My parents are both known public figures, well known public figures. But, at home, they taught my siblings and I not to buy into the thought that if we were marked submissive, we were less than or deserved to be treated like that. I’m sure they’d prefer I didn’t act quite like I do, but I’m me and that is something they’ve always appreciated. I don’t know what I think anymore to be honest. Too much has happened and I’m a little jumbled with it all at the moment. I’m thinking things I never thought I would, and reconsidering thoughts I hadn’t before. I guess it affects me in a lot of ways, knowing that I’m supposed to know my place and act a certain way, but also knowing that those expectations don’t always jive with who I am. It has been rough, to say the least. 

Are you in good health? Do you have any medical problems? Overall I’m in good health, physically. 

Do you have any disabilities? No, I don’t.

What past act are you most ashamed of? What past act are you most proud of? We won’t go there. And...Probably the National Dance Title  won before I was sequestered to this hellhole. 

What sort of sex do you have? The sexual kind.

Did you attend any kind of trade school before you got here? (So as a minor or in between the ages of 18-21, since it is law that all people go to a BDSM Academy at 21.) Yeah, I did. Kind of. I wouldn’t call it a trade school but, it was a school for dance specifically. 

Have you had any jobs? What are your career goals? (The laws on this are the same as the real world so minors generally need a work permit BUT you can also work with the family business without anyone questioning at just about any age. And just like the real world, a lot of families put a lot of pressure on their children to follow in their footsteps.) I taught dance to the toddler classes when I was a teenager. I’m licensed to teach now, actually. So, I guess I’ll do something like that when I get out of here. Maybe I’ll open my own studio. I can do that now, if I want. 

What places have you visited on vacation? Pretty much all 50 states- or, 52, technically. Also France, England, Germany, Japan, Australia, and China. 

Who is your favorite actor? Who is an actor you can’t stand? My favorite actor is Melissa McCarthy, but I can’t stand Emma Roberts.

What is your favorite movie? Which movies do you absolutely hate? My favorite movie is Dirty Dancing- call me basic, I’ll fight. I hate a lot of movies, too many to list really. My least favorite is probably The ABCs of Death. 

What is your favorite color? What is your favorite book? What is your favorite food? Mint Green/The Truth About Forever/Chicken and Apple Sausage

How often do you exercise? What are your exercise goals? Daily, both with and without dance. I don’t really have goals, I just kind of go with the flow. 

Do you enjoy hot weather, or do you prefer colder temperatures? Give me all the heat. 

What do you think is the meaning of life? To find life’s meaning.

If you could describe yourself in one sentence, what would you say? I exist. 

[annatao]

[ -  Bad English - ] This was a necessary update, because in the comic book, that's exactly what she looks like+ it must conform to the canon. I also updated the information about her.

Cona Dei Basic information

Class: Alchemist Type: Protection Health: 135/in uber – 245 Speed: 110% Team: RED Weapon To kill effectively, the Alchemist must increase his damage with his potions. The main thing: the Scorpion submachine gun is an experimental weapon that was developed by the “MannCo” corporation intended as an upgrade for the standard class. However, it was stolen by a certain thief who had all the necessary access. Later, this weapon underwent a change, and then went to the Alchemist. Ammo is coated with acidic composition. - 20% damage + causes bleeding from burning acid Burning sensation: 4/sec x 5sec Secondary weapon: a one-handed crossbow that fires poison bolts. *If hit in the head-crit * damage 25-60. Depending on the distance Close Combat: Hopesh is a cold weapon that was once given by Henrik as a decoration. Now she uses it in battle. 4 slot: potion set. In total, Kona can carry one potion of 3 types with her. For example, a regeneration potion (for yourself), a poison that causes bleeding, an acid bomb. * In the game, the mechanics worked like this: holding down the 4 button and scrolling the wheel, you select 1 of 3 potions that the player selected in advance in the menu. After use, they would recover for about 30 seconds. The distributor has about 20 seconds (She would take resources from there) Special opportunity: Margo the rat – if you sneak up on the victim from spita, the Alchemist will release his pet and it will get under the enemy's clothes and start biting, thereby causing bleeding for 6 seconds. Alchemy Kit There are 3 categories in total: *For yourself *For your team *Halloween

For myself: *Fire Resistance Potion-Reduces fire damage by 50% for 5 seconds *Potion of the feather-gives the effect of a smooth fall, thus it saves itself from damage. The effect passes as soon as the Kona touches the ground. *Regeneration Potion-the effect lasts for 5 seconds and restores 5 health points each. For the attack and for your team: Potion of power-Gives mini-crit. Apply an effect can, as well as himself, and on any player from his team, but only one. The effect lasts for 5 seconds. Freeze Potion-slows the victim down, and the victim takes a small amount of damage for 6 seconds. You can get rid of the effect if the friendly Pyro warms up with his flamethrower. Poison Potion-a small dark cloud is created when thrown. Causes poisoning within 5 seconds, removing 4 health points each. Bacon's Potion-removes negative effects from the team A bandage-An alchemist can give a bandage to a teammate who is bleeding. If this effect is not present, the item will not work. It does not regenerate and does not heal, only removes this effect. Acid bomb "surprise" - is a throwing glass projectile with acid. When it hits the ground, it releases an acid cloud. * Works on both enemies and allies. *When igniting such a cloud, it deals additional damage to everyone who was in it * Only an Alchemist or a first-aid kit at the base can cure this "poison". * Does not work on the Alchemist himself, as the cloth that hides her face is soaked with the antidote and does not work on the Arsonist, as well as on those who are in the uber. Halloween ones. On maps where the Alchemist acts as a boss, these potions are available to mercenaries ONLY in the alchemy machine (there are 3 of them for the entire map) : 1. Explosive potion "Griffin's Feather". It is enough to throw a potion at your feet and it allows the player to jump high and smoothly descend without any damage. Valid for 20 seconds. It works by the type of parachute. 2. Death Potion-turns the player into a zombie (cosmetic effect) 3. Potion "???» - an unknown potion that, once applied, turns the player into toads, deer, elephants, jackals, panthers, chipmunks, bats, cats, and otters (cosmetic random effect.) 4. Reduction Potion-turns players into toddlers that squeak like chipmunks. It also gives you the ability to fly, but you can't use weapons. Exc: Taunts, Machine Gunner's food. 5. Potion of Fear-Scare the shit out of your enemies! But be careful, because it works not only on the enemies, but also on you, too. It can be repelled with compressed air. 6. Potion "blood of the Vampire" - causes a thirst for blood in the owner and if he does not "drink" it from enemies, he will slowly lose health. This poison works for 30 seconds. 7. Potion "Magic for weaklings!" - prohibits the player from picking up and using spells. A potion for those who want to play the classics on this map. 8. Potion of Regenerations – is there no Medic in the vicinity or does he not hear you? Were you injured or had your arm torn off? No question, use this tool and your problems will be solved quickly! Valid for 7 seconds. 9. There is also a new spell during the boss battle (Marasmus, Cona Dei) - challenge Margot. Summons a mutant rat that walks on its hind legs, wears skin clothing, and uses a heavy wooden hammer as a weapon. Health – 460 units. * Rarely when using this spell, during a battle, Kona may resent that Margot " betrayed her» Biography Age: 27 Origin: Greece Bad habits: no Motto: "You need to start all over again" Appearance: Dark brown hair, brown eyes. Normal build. From clothing she has a T-shirt, over which she wears a bulletproof vest with straps for securing weapons. Dark skinny trousers,army boots. On the belt there are two pouches, and there is on the leg. Description Little is known about her past. She doesn't really tell outsiders about it, rather evasively and reluctantly, missing a lot of details. She keeps silent about how she got into the ranks of the mercenaries, because she doesn't really want to talk about it. However, her current goal is to start all over again. Many people will think that she has a secretive character, but in addition to such a trait, you can notice calmness, and an Alchemist can easily be caught off guard when a girl is passionate about something. If you make her angry, the girl will think of a very good plan of revenge, and as for the consequences for her victim, she will not care much. Good and bad qualities: a good friend, not against putting his shoulder to "tears", lack of sleep often cause her indifference to the environment, with which she began to struggle, before she could score a bolt on it. She is careful in her work, but when it comes to working with a Medic, she puts more effort into it. Attitude to other mercenaries Scout-friend (the best option for a direct attack, like " hit and cover») Soldier-dislikes, often comes into conflict with him. This is mostly due to misunderstandings, or the Soldier starts them himself. Arsonist – best friend (fire-acid duo-effective, especially ambush attack on the very crowd of opponents) Demoman- friendly. Do you have someone to borrow gunpowder for experiments Machine gunner – at first she was afraid of him, but over time she became more friendly to him Engineer-work colleague Medic - Teacher-Student relationship Sniper-neither friend nor foe Spy-neutrality Ada Gilbert-passive-positive. Sometimes Miss Gilbert's obsession annoys her Jeanne-neutral Evidence * The last name " Dei "is taken from the song "Green day" and supplemented, since she does not have her own. * The Alchemist keeps a pet-a lab rat named Margo. *Her first mercenary friend was an Pyro. * The girl participates in a joint project with a Medic and an Engineer, building the first prototype of a helmet for viewing dreams, which also records them. *Because of her 8 years of solitude, it is difficult for her to communicate with the rest of the classes outside of combat. *The Alchemist has a thick notebook where she draws different happy moments from life. *The Alchemist has no education, but she was taught all the standards and everything else by her so-called brother. * In non-combat, he wears light but closed clothing, and prefers to wear an arafatka over his face. * The alchemist almost never takes off his gloves.

[kiribaku-queen]

Home [6/10]

Pairing: Bakugou x reader, Kirishima x reader

Fluff, angst, werewolf!au

Word count: 3.8k

A/N: Whoops, another long chapter! Sorry TeamBaku fans, it’s a Kiri fluff chapter this time. Let have our hearts relax from no more heartbreak and rest our eyes from crying and enjoy the fluff and cuteness that is this chapter. Let me know if you want to be tagged in upcoming chapters!

Summary: Being called the beauty of the clan isn’t as nice as it sounds. The beauty of the clan is supposed to exude confidence, power, and well, beauty. You were quite the opposite, only possessing one of those traits. Yet, the older you got, the more you fit into the role you were given. After your brother and all the boys of age come back from their training period, it was time to find a mate. But who will steal your heart? Is it Bakugou, the rising leader of the pack, or is it Kirishima, the personal guard and the strongest in the pack?

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10]

You scoffed as a single tear drops. He really said it. After all this time, all these years, it was over. You bit your lip and looked at him with eyes full of rage and betrayal.

“Fine. It’s probably better this way. I don’t want to be with someone who doesn’t even fight for what he wants anyway,” you spat at him angrily and with that, you left without another word. As you left, Bakugou watched your retreating figure.

“FUCK!” he yelled, throwing everything and anything out of his way. Chairs, furniture, books, anything that he could have a hold on. He was so angry at the situation and at himself for letting this happen that he had to let his anger out by throwing or hitting something. Speaking of hitting, having no more things to throw resulted him punching the wall, repeatedly until his hands started bleeding. As if it wasn’t enough that his hand was hurt from his fight with Kirishima, but now it was even more beaten up. Almost to the point where his knuckles could be broken. As Bakugou was letting out his anger on the poor furniture in his room, a certain brunette was watching from afar, a smirk forming on her lips.

You were shaking as you returned home. Never in your life have you been so angry, hurt, sad and betrayed all at the same time. You were feeling so many emotions at the moment that you didn’t know how to react. Should you be crying? Yelling? Throwing things? Running away? You’d do all at the same time if it wasn’t for being in public and everyone watching you. The sight of your house could be seen and a still beaten-faced red head was waiting for you outside. Kirishima looked up to see you running right towards him. Before he could say anything, you already jumped in his arms, face buried in his neck.

“It’s over. Shit… it’s really over,” you sobbed into his neck, still not believing your reality. Kirishima hands balled into fists at his side. He wanted to go back to Bakugou to teach him another lesson but with you, vulnerable in his arms like this, he couldn’t. Instead, he embraced you. That made you hug him even tighter. You didn’t have to tell Kirishima what happened. Sometimes you don’t need words to express your emotions. Everything was said by the ambiance in the room. Kirishima knew how you were feeling, how hurt you are by your now ex-boyfriend. And to him, ex-best friend. He might not exactly relate, but he knew you were so deeply hurt. All he could really do was be there for you. And that’s what he did. He never left your side. For days and weeks on end, Kirishima was always there. When you were eating, when you were just staring at the ceiling, when you were watching TV, even when you were crying randomly at night, he was there holding you tight. He was there for you to vent, to take your frustrations out on. He didn’t mind. Not one bit. If it made you feel better inside, he was willing to do anything for you.

Slowly but surely, you were getting back to your regular routine. Only this time, Kirishima was by your side. After your break up with Bakugou, Kirishima had explained that he was no longer Bakugou’s personal guard or right-hand man. He was released from his position. That might be because he went out of his boundaries and hit the next alpha in the face, but that’s beside the point. Since Kirishima was the personal guard of Bakugou, he had to be by his side the entire time. So Bakugou’s family took him in as their own and provided him with a room at their house. Now that he was released from his position, he had no home. With lots of pleading and guilt tripping, your parents allowed Kirishima to stay at your house for the time being.

Having Kirishima staying at your house helped you in the long run. Afterall, Kirishima was your support system and he always knew how to make you feel better. And he was involved in your everyday life, making you forget about a certain somebody. When you felt down, he was there ready to hold you. When your quirk acted up, he was there to console you. When you felt like crying, he would wipe away your tears. You got so used to him holding you that when you two were at home, you would cuddle up with him on the couch. Or when you would be lying in bed, Kirishima would be lying right next to you. His touch was an everyday occurrence and now it was normal for you two to be glued to the hip. Your parents thought it was cute but Sero, on the other hand, was keeping a good eye on you guys.

A few months had gone by since the boys have been back from their training. And as much as you loved spending time with them, you had to go back to your job: teaching. While Sero and Kirishima were away, you found joy in teaching the little cubs the way of the clan. You taught them basic skills like math and history but you also taught them how to respect others and how the hierarchy works within the clan. Today, you had to return to your job. You missed the little ones just as much as they missed you. As you were ready to head out the door, Kirishima insisted that he wanted to tag along.

“C’mon (y/n), I’m bored at home. I just wanna watch,” he pouted. But you continuously refused.

“Eijirou, you can’t just tag along. This is my job! Stay home and… clean the house!” you tried to give him some chores so he wouldn’t be bored and to keep him occupied until you got home. Kirishima groaned in response.

“I clean every. Single. Day! Pleeeease. I’ll just like one of the cubs. I’ll be quiet, I promise,” man, he really wanted to see you teach. If you argued with him any longer, you would be late. Very hesitantly and almost regretting your decision, you let him join your class. On the way to your class, Kirishima was so excited that he couldn’t stop talking about how excited he was. You chuckled at his excitement. He really was acting like a cub.

It’s kind of cute.

What the? Why were you thinking that right now?! You mentally cursed at yourself for thinking that. Kirishima? Your best friend? Cute? No, he wasn’t cute. His personality is! Yeah! His behavior is cute, not him. Not him… You peeked over at Kirishima one more time and the way his smile brightens his face and how he was exaggerating his words by using body language brought a smile to your face. Your eyes traveled down to his arms. He had cut off the sleeves of his t-shirt, exposing his ripped arms. It was kind of incredible how much his body had transformed in 2 years and how much more attractive he became.

“Miss (y/n)!” several children’s voices snapped you out of your thoughts. You cleared your throat and thanked the lord that those kids stopped you from having more inappropriate thoughts.

“Hello my lovelies, I missed you so much,” you stopped in your tracks to sit on your knees, opening your arms wide to welcome your students back. The children ran into your arms, giving you the tightest hug they possibly could give. You all laughed in and a warm feeling engulfed you. This was your safe space. This is where you could forget about all your troubles and just focus on the kids. One of the kids looked up at Kirishima with questioning eyes.

“Miss (y/n), who is this?”

“Is it miss (y/n)’s boyfriend?” that created a lot of ‘ooh’s’ and ‘ahh’s’. Both you and Kirishima blushed at the comment but you were quick to deny.

“Ok kids! We need to give our guest our special welcome howl. On a count of 3: 1, 2, 3…” and every single cub there gave their best werewolf howl for Kirishima. You gushed at how cute they were. Kirishima was in awe at your class and your welcome was definitely something he could get used to.

“Thanks for your mighty welcome kiddos. Name’s Kirishima. I’ll sit in on your class so don’t mind me, okay?” Kiri introduced himself. Seeing how tall and muscular he was, from a child’s point of view, he looked intimidating but strong. That gained the attention of a lot of the boys. You gathered your class and began the lesson of the day.

“Okay class. Let’s start class off by something you’ve all been wanting to do for a while. We are going to be learning how to transform into our wolf forms!” you exclaimed and the class erupted in cheers. Excited chattering filled the air because this was pretty advanced but you knew that they were ready. And it’s better to start early than later, so why not? Plus, Kirishima was here to help you so I guess it wasn’t a bother that he was here afterall. You were about to explain how to transform when Kirishima takes your place instead.

“And I will be showing you how to do it with ease!” that caused the class to cheer even louder. So much for staying quiet. But you weren’t complaining. You let him have the spot light. As he was explaining how to transform, he transformed to and from his human form and werewolf form several times. You could tell it was exhausting him but he didn’t let that affect his energy or the smile on his face. Both you and Kirishima were helping each child to concentrate on their form. When you were helping one child, you looked up to see how Kirishima was doing. He was helping a little girl who was having trouble transforming but Kirishima was there for her, encouraging her each step of the way. You admired how dedicated he was and much attention he gave to just one cub.

“Listen up kids!” you gathered your class’ attention. “Let’s partner up and keep practicing okay?”

“YES MISS (Y/N)!” the kids yelled at the top of their lungs. “THANK YOU FOR THE ENTHUSIASM!” you screamed right back, smiling softly at everybody. You sat on a rock that allowed you to look over your entire class and monitor how they were doing. Kirishima walked up and sat right next to you. Silently, you both watched them practice and was ready to jump in if they needed help.

“You’re good with kids,” you said, suddenly, still having your gaze on the kids. Kirishima turns to look at you.

“Not like you. You’re the teacher here,” he says. You just shrug and look back to the kids. But Kirishima doesn’t stop staring at you. You try so hard not to look at him but you can feel his stare.

“You’re staring you know?” you tell him. You expected him to blush but he doesn’t. He just smirks and looks away.

Wow, that was kind of sexy.

You bite your lip and this time, it was your turn to stare at him. His red hair was tied in a low ponytail, his spikey bangs framing his face just right. His eyes were intense yet gentle when looking at the cubs practice. Like a father watching over his own children. His lips were gently parted which showed his spikey canines. Your eyes traveled even lower, back to his muscular arms. They were flexed a bit from how he was sitting. You’d be lying if you said Kirishima wasn’t attractive. He had a glow up and he was good with kids? He really was the dream guy every girl is drooling over.

“Look who’s staring now,” he says, catching you off guard. God, you didn’t mean to stare at him for so long. You were embarrassed that you got caught admiring his looks. You covered your face with your hands, hiding your flushed face. “Why are you hiding?” he teased and grabbed a hold on both your wrists. He tugged gently to make you face him but you were determined to keep your hands on your face. You absolutely refused to let him see your flushed face. But Kirishima also kept trying to get you to face him. With one hard tug, your hands were removed your face and your body was now facing Kirishima. With his hands on your wrist, your body was pulled a little towards him, your face inches away from each other. He was smiling and laughing when you pulled you hands away but when he saw how close you were, his smile fell to a shocked face. He stared into your eyes and you saw them fall on your lips, then back at your eyes again. Your heart skipped at his action. But before anything could happen, you shot up, standing now.

“Okay, class is over. Let’s pack up and get ready to leave. Don’t forget to thank our special guest on your way out!” you called out to you class in a panic. But kids don’t pick up on that sort of thing. They were just happy class was over and couldn’t wait to go back home. Man, going home with Kirishima was going to be awkward. You jumped when Kirishima snuck up behind you.

“Ready to go home?” he asks. You nod and hum in response, letting Kirishima lead the way.

 As soon as you arrived home, Sero was heading out.

“Oh, where are you going?” you asked when you guys got closer. Sero sighed and rubbed the back of his neck.

“One of the guys called in sick so now I have to cover their shift. I’ll be out patrolling for a few hours. Mom and dad are out so you’re going to have to cook dinner tonight,” he informed out. “See ya later. Bye man.” Sero quickly kissed out on the forehead and tapped Kirishima on the chest before heading out. You groaned internally because you really didn’t want to make dinner tonight. Moreover, there was nothing in the house to make dinner so you’d have to do into town to get ingredients. With no other choice and not wanting to starve to death, you went to the shopping area of town. Of course, bringing Kirishima with you.

You definitely didn’t like making dinner, but you loved going grocery shopping. All the stores were outside with the freshest ingredients. Just rows and rows of different stalls, selling different kinds of fruits, vegetables, meats, seafood. Even clothes and flowers are being sold.

You were walking on the right side of the stalls, in awe by the sight in front of you, along with many other people who were doing their shopping. Kirishima was following close behind you, admiring how you get excited over the littlest things. You looked like a kid in a candy store: wide eyed and mouth watering. He took this time to just watch you. You were so distracted so he didn’t have to worry about being caught by you. He could say so many things about you, about why he was so infatuated with you. But one thought was constantly on his mind when he saw you: you were beautiful. It didn’t matter what you were doing. You could be sleeping or pulling the silliest faces and to him, you would always be beautiful. Not only that, you were the sweetest person he knew. You weren’t treated right in your childhood, but you were still nice to people around you. Everyone in the clan respected you for that. You give to those who need it the most. And when you were teaching those kids not even a few hours ago? You tended to every single child, giving them the attention they needed while still bringing the whole class together. No one can tell him that you weren’t the most loving and most kind woman in clan history.

You were looking through and sorting out which apples to buy when Kirishima smelled a scent that was all too familiar. When he knew you were distracted by the apples in front of you, Kirishima glanced to the side to where the scent was coming from. And look who it is: Bakugou with his fiancée, roaming around like its nobody’s business. Way to ruin the mood. The smile on Kirishima’s face while thinking of you were replaced with a frown. Bakugou hadn’t seen them yet but Kirishima was already staring him down.

Uraraka wanted to get to know the people of the clan and by doing so, she needed to be with the people. What better way to do that than to go down to the local market where everybody was? Bakugou was forced to go with her by the order from his father. He really wasn’t interested in the slightest. He was only there to keep her company and to keep her safe if danger were to ever arise. So Bakugou let Uraraka do her thing while he lazily tagged along behind her.

You still hadn’t noticed yet. And Kirishima was planning on making it stay that way. As you were still picking which apple to get, Kirishima went up to you, backing hugging you in the process. His head laying on your shoulder which blocked the view of Bakugou and Uraraka. You jumped at the contact but immediately blushed when you figured out what Kirishima was doing.

“W-w-what are you-” you kept stuttering, surprised and confused with his sudden actions. His embrace was comforting and his scent was overwhelming your senses. Forget the apples. Your heart was picking up its pace and you didn’t know where to look. Should you be looking at him or not at him? Would it be awkward if you did? Of course it would be! His face was so close, his cheek was basically touching yours. So you stood still, stiff as a board, looking straight ahead. Kirishima takes the apple that was in your hand and examines it.

“This looks like a good one. We’ll get it,” he says to the seller and they immediately bag it. Kirishima hands him a few bills and takes the bag. He starts heading in the opposite direction of Bakugou, taking your hand in his on the way. This way, you can focus on him and not accidentally see the person who broke your heart. He was also doing it for his own enjoyment but no one had to know that.

You and Kirishima had already left the marketplace, but Uraraka still wasn’t done looking around so that meant Bakugou was still there. Uraraka spotted an old lady selling large, delicious, red apples and her mouth immediately started watering. She had to get some. Tugging on Bakugou’s arms, she pulled him towards the apple stand. As soon as he entered the general area, a rush of a familiar scent rushed into his senses. Two actually, but there was one that mattered to him more. Your scent danced around his nose, pulling him into a trance. Fuck, he missed you so much. Wait, if your scent was this strong then you must be around somewhere. Franticly, he started looking around, trying to see if he can spot you. Any part of you. He was getting frustrated when you weren’t in sight at all but your scent was still lingering in the air.

“Fuck,” he hissed to himself. He had missed you by just a hair.

 The whole way home, Kirishima was holding your hand and for some reason, you weren’t opposed to it. You actually kind of liked it. It didn’t last for long because you finally reached your house. He let go looking unfazed but you had a disappointed look on your face. Hoping that cooking would distract you from the lingering feeling that was left behind from Kiri’s hands, you got to cooking. You were chopping some vegetables when you felt someone staring at you. You didn’t have to even guess who it was.

“Yes?” you asked, breaking the ice while continuing to do what you were doing. The sound of the chair squeaking against the floor could be heard loud and clear and footsteps were approaching you. Kirishima leaned on the countertop next you, leaning sideways, elbow resting on the counter.

“Let’s talk,” he says. You cock your eyebrow.

“About…?”

“What happened earlier,” your heart leaped.

“What happened earlier?” you asked. You already knew where this was going but refused to believe it. Did he really have to talk about it now? Why is he even bringing this up? He didn’t respond. Huh, weird. Did he not hear you? “What happened, huh?” you asked again. You were met with more silence. Were you just imagining things or was he purposely not answering you? Or maybe you were deaf? Was he trying to embarrass you by making you say it? Whatever the reason, you were getting annoyed.

“Ya, Eiji-” you turned to him, ready to confront him. But he was faster. As soon as you turned to face him, he moved over to trap you in between him and the counter. His muscular arms were encaging you, preventing you from leaving. His face dangerously close to yours once again. How many times was he going to do that? And how many times is your heart going to react to that move?

“I like you, (y/n),” Kirishima confessed. You raised your eyebrows a bit in shock but you couldn’t react much, let alone move much because of the position you were in. Your heart starting racing at the sudden confession. All you could do was stare into his deep, red eyes. His eyes told all. He was deeply in love with you. So much that if he expressed any more love with his eyes, they would pop off his head. “I like you, so much that it’s getting really, really hard to control myself,” and with each word, his voice was getting deeper and his eyes were getting lower. Looking into your eyes, slowly making its way down and settling on your lips. He was leaning. The closer he leaned, the lower your eye lids got. Your eyes were completely closed now, ready for a soft pair, but powerful lips to land on yours, but they never came. Kirishima smirked, his hot breath tickled your lips and he pulled away. For some reason, you were sad when he did. Still learning on the counter with you in between his arms, he looks back up at your eyes.

“But I won’t touch you or do anything without your permission,” he declared. That made you blush more than his confession. That was also the manliest thing he has ever said to you. “I’ll be in the living room if you need me,” With that declaration made, he finally gets up and walks away, leaving you a little hot and bothered.

Tagged: @goodpop9 @superblyspeedydragon @tspice283 @marvelobsessedteen @rosetheshapeshifter @cabbagesquadfam