#but i couldn't think of how to continue in a decent way either

[sordidmusings]

Age Gap (Buggy x Reader)

A/N: for @soft-mafia since she wanted more age gap Buggy! Mostly bulleted like a headcanon but has two little drabbles sprinkled in cuz I couldn't help myself. I will be posting a continuation of this actually writing out the scene mentioned at the end, but I wanted to get this out now.

Word count: ~2.6 k

Warnings: obviously an age gap but the younger one is mentioned to be in their 20s, fem!reader, NSFW mentioned at the end, alcohol consumption, probably (hopefully) silly humor, the touch starved shows hardcore for a second there, tried my best to get Buggy right but you know how it be especially because he exists as an amalgam of LA and anime Buggy in my brain

Now come get y'all dopamine

I imagine you joined Buggy’s crew largely looking for that found family goodness then found out how much you’d never been taken care of and how much you craved it

One day while going through the different acts you were learning from the crew trying to find what stuck, you took a decent fall. Not the kind that breaks bones, but the kind where you just gotta lay there a sec and recalibrate how you got to this point

After some laughter (I mean come on it is a crew curated by Buggy and they could tell it wasn’t serious), the nearby crew surrounded you to check on you. While you were breathlessly saying you’re fine from your position on the floor, they parted to reveal the Captain coming to your side:

Buggy bent down to loom over you. The shadow he cast over your face was a welcome break from the bright overhead lights. You just wished that the way they haloed him didn’t make it so hard to see the laughter on his face.

“Good form! I think we could just throw you around to see you flail like that as your act - you’d be our finest comedy routine.” His voice was thick with sarcasm and giggles. However, his detached arms were gentle when they lifted you from the floor. They changed to posing outstretched with his hands on your shoulders and he walked into them to reattach. He looked you up and down before circling around you, all the while his hands were nudging you this way and that for his inspection. Once he was back at your front, he changed to brushing some dirt from your arms and shoulders. You didn’t speak for fear of interrupting this attention you were receiving from him.  He seemed to suddenly snap to clarity anyway.

“RIGHT.” Vocal control? Who is she? Buggy doesn’t know her. “So either get better at what you’re doing or actually fall on purpose. Wouldn’t want you fucking up that money maker.” He was already walking away when one detached hand gave your cheek two brisk pats and he made himself scarce.

It was obvious to you and everyone else how much you ate up his attention. The soft look you were still giving the direction he went in was damn near sickening. It was then you understood your purpose here - becoming Buggy’s spoiled lapdog.

Luckily for you, that was also the moment Buggy realized how his body buzzed when he touched you and how he lit up when you looked up at him with pretty, wide eyes. 

Unluckily, he also decided that being near you would lead down a dangerous route of him needing more and more of you and he was positive that he was just being some old creep over a pretty little thing like you.

This led to a game where Buggy would try to keep you at arm’s length while he battled both his own desire to be around you and your seemingly supernatural ability to just appear next to him at all times.

He wasn’t great at the arms distance thing even when he thought he was nailing it because nailing it to him was being in his natural space as the center of attention and only checking (immediately and desperately) that you were watching and approving of whatever he was doing. The way his head would always snap to you for your reaction was neither subtle nor discouraging to your rapidly growing infatuation.

You decided that orbiting his personal space wasn’t working well enough. Sure, he’d give you a hit of what you wanted with some fleeting touches and mostly disguised compliments but you needed more. Hurting yourself intentionally so that he would take care of you didn’t seem like a sustainable option, so you settled on playing his own game. Time to practice owning a room.

This could be a dangerous game to play. You were certain that blatantly taking the spotlight would just make him upset with you not that you’d mind him taking that out on you. You settled on more subtle things like spreading your attention more through the crew instead of mostly on him, being more focused and daring in your training, participating more in the many games that broke out when the alcohol did, and dressing a bit more intentionally (whether that’s flashier colors, eye-catching accessories, bold makeup, new or intricate hairstyles, etc.) 

The boldest card you played was feeding more into any of the flirting you received.

He has a freak show, yes, but have you ever seen how fine circus performers are?? Full fun costumes are It and also the tasks they have to perform either help them get conventionally attractive bodies and/or the rizz that comes with performing feats (just look at the traction Fryboy has gained with women like damn why he kinda-). Due to that, you’re around attractive people all the time.

While the flirting is for the purpose of pushing Buggy’s buttons, you must admit that it wasn’t a hard habit to keep up and may help inflate your ego.

Your attempts have mixed results. Buggy’s desire to claim you grew but so did his insecurity

In his mind, you look more natural next to one of the younger lookers in his crew while he’s certain the pair of you must look ridiculous together. It’s this very insecurity that’s gonna make it necessary for you to bluntly and shamelessly throw yourself at him both repeatedly and with no room for questions:

You have no clue what else you can do to get through that thick skull of his. You’re on your knees, quite literally at that. You figured that kneeling in front of that circus throne while he’s laid himself all over it would be enough to break the man. Enough to break any man, really, but he’s still finding ways to deflect you.

Buggy nodded his head to a nearby open seat. “You know they made chairs to be comfortable and your dumb ass is on the floor. That drunk already?” he snorted. Maybe choosing to do this during one of the many celebrations (you think this one is for one week of no one pregaming for show runs. ironic.) was a bad idea. You had been banking on some drinks loosening up whatever was holding him back.  It always made you snicker when you entertained the idea of it being from a sense of propriety. Checking in on the situation, you could see how all the chaos going on around you two made it easier for him to keep his eyes off of you and his ears unfocused. Earlier, you had counted it as a plus that working up a buzz would help you bulldoze through his stubbornness. You had forgotten that any alcohol in your system would make for the perfect excuse for him to write you off.

“I’ve barely started my third drink,” you started with a pout, “and I’d be ashamed if that’s enough to get me drunk after all the time spent on your crew.”

“Then you are just being stupid.”

You huffed and rolled your eyes. Okay. Attention didn’t work. Compliments didn’t work. Kneeling didn’t work. Time for some big guns.

You shifted to the side so you’d be sitting towards your left hip with your bent legs beside you. Your drink found its way to your right hand but, most importantly, your chin found its way onto Buggy’s left knee. It brought you so close to where you’d really like to put yourself to work, and, man, was the temptation strong with the way his right leg was slung over the armrest of his seat. How did he expect you to stay away when he was serving himself up on a platter like this?

Buggy was definitely giving you his undivided attention now. His gaze was dark and slightly accusatory. The lighting matched with his makeup made him look more dangerous than usual. The nerves it sent through you might have had you back right off. Instead you held your ground because you saw his pulse hammer against his neck. You saw his throat bob as he swallowed. You saw his pink tongue contrast with red as he licked his lips and gave a shaky exhale.

While you were starting to settle into your bold move, Buggy was becoming more and more antsy. His grip on his glass became white-knuckled under his gloves, and he tried to give himself time to think by taking a huge gulp of his drink. Why did you have to look at him like that? So pleading? The angle from his lap made your lashes darken your eyes and it was impossible for him to keep the image of your hooded gaze about a foot closer to him out of his head. What did you want from him? You’d denied his accusations about money or intel so what the fuck could it be? Was this a game? Get in the pants of the Captain for preferential treatment and go back to whoever else you had in your palm on the crew to laugh about him falling for it?

You noticed his mood turning sour so you decided to interrupt whatever was tumbling around his head. “I think I could get much more comfy right here.” To prove a point, you dragged your chin to his inner thigh, right above his knee, and snuggled your cheek into his leg. His pants weren’t the softest against your skin but he was so addictingly warm through them. Your eyes briefly fluttered shut to enjoy the sensation before you looked back up at him and flirtatiously said, “I’m comfiest next to you.”

His hands itched with the need to grab you by the hair and force your face right where he needed you. Instead he scoffed at you. “Suuuuure. And why’s that, princess?”

“You make me smile,” you admitted immediately. His startled gaze met your lovesick one and you realized what you said and how quickly you said it. Too close to emotionally vulnerable; time to backtrack a touch. You want to get the role as his trophy before you even attempt to approach the title of Love of His Life. “You also said that you take care of your crew and I’m on your crew, right? So you’ll take care of me.”

The cheeky smile you spoke through melted him. An achingly deep sigh left him while his right hand detached from the arm to deposit his drink on the floor next to you. Quickly, it flew back to its limb. Both of your hearts pumped fire through your chests as he reached that hand out towards you. Buggy took his time stroking his fingers from your forehead into your hair. When his palm came down to join the gesture, you were very happy to realize that his hand was just as warm as the thigh still under your cheek. You shuffled closer so your legs squeezed in between his foot and the left leg of his throne. Buggy shuddered when he felt your fingertips graze the back of his calf and spread out like a star so you could grab it. Using your new grip, you snuggled more firmly into his leg and let yourself buzz off of getting this new touch from your Captain.

Ulterior motives be damned, Buggy couldn’t give them any credence when you looked so happy to sit at his feet and receive such a simple touch. He should probably laugh and call you a needy puppy to regain some control over the situation. Instead, he slipped his hand down the side of your head.  He massaged his fingertips into the base of your skull and said, “I’ll take care of you, little star.”

Once he has accepted that you’re serious there will be jokes about the dynamic but do not be fooled - he can only dish it out and WILL spiral if he receives any type of comment about how much older he is (the word geriatric is punishable by death)

Sometimes the joke is him patronizingly treating you like a child (you almost socked him right there at the dinner table when some food came at your face with accompanying airplane noises)

Sometimes it’s calling you a gold digger (“then where’s my allowance, huh?” “OH so my gIFTS AREN’T ENOUGH FOR YOU NOW? YOU were the one ACTUALLY CRYING over me buying you that wonky ass stuffed seal with the lopsided face!!” “HIS NAME IS JERRY AND YOU WILL SHOW HIM SOME RESPECT”)

Sometimes it’s just dumb shit like pointing at the type of girl’s clothing store that has made a contract with God to own all the pinks and pastels the world has to offer before turning to you straight faced and asking if you want to stop in to look. Any way this man can think to goof, he will.

And it’s tooooootally a coping mechanism to process the fact that he’s nearly forty and dating a twenty-something and not at all because joking around with you has become one of his basic survival needs

The dynamic ends up helping both of y’all feel special - you have a hot, boisterous, spotlight-stealing pirate captain pampering (and then making a mess of) you while he gets a beautiful, capable, eye-catching young thing looking at him like he hung the stars in the sky

Nothing goes to Buggy’s head more than when you walk into a room full of people, attractive ones especially, and only see him.

He loves anything that makes it obvious to others that you are his, whether that's him draped over you, you draped over him, red stains on the back of your hands, your shoulders, your cheeks, your forehead, your neck, having his jolly roger on your outfit, having you in his hat or coat

This very much extends to him wanting anyone and everyone to overhear you in the bedroom. Everyone should know you're his and he's the only one who can make you feel so good

Don't worry, they'll also get the message that he's yours from all the moaning and praises

He gives you endless pet names but always comes back to “sweet stuff”, “sweets”, “princess”, “star”, “prima donna” (affectionate), “prima donna” (derogatory), and anything preceded by “little” (“little showstopper”, “little tease”, very rarely “little girl” if he feels especially like exerting power over you)

He prides himself on making you feel cared for and safe. Instead of feeling like a chore he has to do because he’s in the ‘older man’ role, he loves the way you preen under his attention and how you happily return the favor.

When in the Cross Guild Era, Buggy started going to all meetings with you by his side then on his thigh. It was a good defensive strategy because the other two seemed more hesitant to throttle him if you were in the way, but lets be real this man is also clingy and loves showing you off too.

At first he found it offensive that Mihawk and Croc were so disbelieving at the sight of you happily perched on your captain’s lap but then it made him the smuggest motherfucker when he would see their eyes trail over you knowing that they can only look and he can touch however he wants. This leads to him pushing until he hit your boundary at leaving very visible marks on you

One time he fucked you stupid right before a meeting so that you wouldn’t think about the bite mark surrounded by red makeup that kept playing peekaboo with your shirt collar (or the red smears between your thighs that showed whenever you shifted your legs)

[thebisexualdogdad]

can u make a sequel (or maybe even a prequel 😉) to ur tim x male! chen reader fic?

Lucy's brother part 1

Tim Bradford x Male!reader

So finding out that you had slept with your sister's training officer was pretty awkward to say the least but you really liked Tim and talked to them separately to see if there was any possible way you could continue to see him.

They each had valid concerns and neither wanted anyone to think Tim would give Lucy special treatment just because he was dating her brother but after a couple of weeks the two of them decided you and Tim should give this relationship a real shot.

You didn't necessarily keep it a secret but you weren't so open about it either which wasn't hard for Tim since he already preferred keeping his private life private… well, except for his best friend Angela who still found this whole situation quite amusing, most people at the station didn't even know he was gay.

Lucy on the other hand had a much harder time not spilling your relationship to everyone especially Jackson and Nolan.

“Tim seems in a good mood, maybe he'll take it easy on you today,” Jackson laughs as they collect their war bags for their shift.

“Huh? What? I have no idea what you're talking about I wouldn't know why he's in a good mood,” she rambles, avoiding eye contact as she ejects herself from the conversation and hurrying out the door to the patrol cars.

You rarely brought Tim to the apartment, usually spending time at his house to avoid creating any awkward run ins like the time he used your shower after a day at the paintball range and Lucy came home to him walking around in only a towel.

Tonight however Lucy told you she was going to be gone due to plans to go bar hopping with Jackson, Nolan and some of the other rookies they graduated with from the academy and her crashing at Jackson's apartment afterwards.

You took the opportunity to invite Tim over for a date night in, cooking him dinner and watching a movie however the movie was forgotten about half way through when Tim started kissing your neck.

Now you were on top of him making out on the couch, your phone on the kitchen counter where you couldn't hear your it buzzing with texts from Lucy saying how plans changed and Jackson was crashing with you guys instead.

The movie was too loud for you two to hear the front door opening and Lucy turned the light on to the sight of you in Tim’s lap, both of your shirts gone but luckily you were still dressed from the waist down.

“Oh my god,” she says covering her eyes.

“Hey Tim what are you doing here?” Jackson says pretty tipsy, taking him a minute to put the pieces together yet, “woah wait, are Y/N and Tim dating?”

You quickly hop off Tim and you scramble for your shirts, “you can open your eyes Lucy we’re decent.”

“You really couldn't go to your bedroom to do that?” Lucy questions, her words slurred, “now I have to burn the couch.”

“Don't be so dramatic nothing happened,” you sigh, “come on you are both drunk you should drink some water and go to sleep.”

“I can't wait to tell Nolan that you and Tim are dating Y/N, he didn't believe me when I said Tim was totally gay,” Jackson laughs.

After getting Jackson set up on the couch and Lucy in her bed you stand outside your apartment door with Tim saying goodnight to him.

“Sorry our date was a bust,” you apologize.

“It's alright let's just stick to having dates at my place,” he chuckles, “but uh could you talk to Jackson? I don't care if Nolan knows about us but I don't need him going and blabbing my personal business to the whole station.”

“I'll talk to him in the morning,” you smile, “but you know he's gonna tell Angela about this right.”

“Oh great, something else for her to tease me about,” he laughs, kissing you sweetly, “are you still in for the double date with her and Wesley next weekend?”

“Looking forward to it,” you say, kissing him one more time.

Dating your sister's TO was a lot harder to navigate than you thought it would be but you had fallen hard for Tim so you wouldn't change a thing.

[pepperf]

Genuinely can't decide if the writers intended the Five and Lila relationship to be toxic, or if that's just their idea of romance - just like Rochester, Heathcliff, Darcy, and that dude from Twilight, right???

Okay, let's have a readmore. Note tags, ppl, and curate your experience.

Lila has a relatively sensible approach to relationships, which is consistent, despite her somewhat Machiavellian approach to getting what she wants out of them - she put Diego in his place about having realistic expectations back in s3. She's pretty clear about who she is and where her lines are drawn, and is "weirdly self-actualised", according to Klaus. And Five - romantically inexperienced, thinks everyone should do what he says at all times - tries to impose his notion of How This Should Go onto her, from nearly the start of their brief romance, but leaning hard into it once it starts going sour - which also checks out: he was alone for 45 years and his previous relationship was all in his head, giving him full control, so that's what he's used to. But I couldn't tell if they genuinely intended to show it as him being incredibly selfish in prioritising his feelings over her wishes, or if they honestly thought it was romantic. I mean, the barbed wire-style bracelet is a little on the nose, and there's some symbolism that I'll get into in a sec. Truthfully, I'm not inclined to give them the benefit of the doubt - I think SB at least thought it was hot, judging by what he's said about identifying with Five, and about how he finally gets to have a romance. This seems to have been his pet project for the season, blergh.

It's that tedious old misogynist chestnut, that all women secretly want A Man to take control. It's frustrating, because they already established that Lila likes to be in charge, she wants to be free to make her own choices, she'd already had twenty-plus years of being told what to think and do. And yet she has to remind Five, who really ought to know her better by now, "You do not get to decide what I do with my life!" It's also very disconnected from reality. It's not actually fun or sexy to be gaslighted, to be lied to by some insecure asshole who thinks they know better about what's good for you, that they have a right to stick their nose into your personal relationships or keep you away from your kids. Not cool, Five, not cool. He's lucky she didn't kick him in the nuts on the way out. But another reason I think they didn't do this consciously is that Five doesn't seem to realise his assholery - there's no hint that he's regretting anything other than being dumped.

Lila was trapped for seven years in an intense, claustrophobic situation with Five - and if they'd continued to exist, she could have worked through the feelings that come out of that. Like Ritu said, of course there's going to be love there: they've spent seven years together, on the run. If nothing else, it would be a matter of survival - either you find a way to get along, or you kill each other. And they went in with a fair amount in common already (although being adopted by the Handler at age four is not at all the same as being recruited by her at age fifty-something). So I'm annoyed that Lila's whole arc this season is one of frustration about having to be the grown up in her relationship, taking a break to reassess, going off to do something a bit crazy and fun - and promptly getting stranded with someone considerably less emotionally competent.

Okay, I'm being somewhat harsh - Lila unexpectedly getting the timeout she wanted could've been a decent storyline, she could have some time to reflect, live the child-free life without consequences, and have some adventures (she actively enjoys danger!). And she and Five got to bond, that had lots of interesting potential, especially with their complicated history. But it tipped over from being a potential opportunity into an immensely over the top punishment for her impulsivity, and took them so far from where they'd started that there's a total emotional disconnect with the main story. Which is a fucking weird choice for one episode in such a short season, ngl.

And then, ugh, she's right back to dealing with the apocalypse, visibly thrown by a Diego who has unexpectedly thought about what she said and is trying to be a better husband, and dealing with a Five who has decided to get territorial. It's deeply uncomfortable, Five is gearing up to start trouble, so wrapped up in his own hurt feelings that he's functionally useless for the actual problem in front of them - leaving Lila to deal with the mess he creates, and then leverage said feelings to get him to put on his big boy pants and help. She still reaches out to him in the end, I think she knows him well enough by this point to understand what makes him tick...and she's having to be the sensible one up to the end of her existence. Can't she have someone who's willing to meet her halfway? The reflecting that Diego did, him making a start on making amends (given that it was only a few hours for him, that's about as much as they could squeeze in) was basically just wasted. They start to reconnect at the end, and mutually apologise for the damage they've done - but that's all they get, and it's a travesty.

Personally I think the whole storyline should have been cut, but if - if - they really felt it added something, they could have given it some time in the real world, see how this shaky new romance holds up against a serious relationship that's been massively fractured. In a different show, that might have been a fine story. But they don't do that. Whatever she might have wanted, Lila doesn't get time to even think about her choices. She gets to stop existing. (Or they could just have not gone there in the first place, god I hate love triangle plotlines, they do no favours for anyone involved!)

Given a continued existence in which to do so, I'm sure Five would have moved on pretty quickly. It's his first romance with a real person, he feels it intensely - but once the dust settled, he'd see that they were in very different emotional places (she wanted to get back to her family, the break from reality is way overdue to end - and he wanted to stay in their little bubble and leave all that behind). The actual romance part was actually pretty brief, and lacking in any deep communication - as Lila says, it wasn't real. They're playing house in an attempt to feel normal - in a greenhouse (a fragile structure, not a real home), eating strawberries (a treat more than real sustenance), like children...hey, maybe I'm wrong and the writers DID intend to do that, bc that's some choice visual metaphors. And they're playing roles: all their normal antagonism - what made them so fun and sparky in previous seasons, and even during the earlier part of their adventure! - disappears. Lila is a chameleon, taking on a character is her happy place - and this was how Five kept himself going, last time he was in this situation, so he's slipping back into that method of survival (although he's not as good as she is at separating reality from fiction). So while all that is totally understandable, it's insubstantial. If Five had the space to do some self-reflection, or if one of his more rational siblings (Luther maybe, or...um...or a friend, if he can make one...or maybe that dude in the Losers Department at the CIA...) sat down with him and explained that you need to treat a partner as an equal, maybe he could do better next time - or double down and keep being an asshole, that's also a strong possibility.

idk - I still don't honestly think the show intended it that way, unfortunately. I think they shoehorned the characters into the scenes they wanted, regardless of sense or even plot requirement. There are a LOT of badly-explained or badly-thought out moments in this season, and this whole mess just adds to the incoherency. Or maybe it's just a consequence of TV - you get multiple creative people involved, and the reasoning gets muddied, especially over time. Maybe it was SB's intention from the start, but he didn't inform the actors until the final season, so they've been playing it straight.

This show has an...interesting tendency to do something that you think is totally unacceptable and just gloss over it at the time, and then address it next season (like Luther apologising to Viktor), as if the writers all brought it up in their respective therapy sessions during the break, and worked through the issues - so maybe if they'd had another season, they would have gone into all that. Maybe. But we're clearly not going to get that, and they're all gone from existence so I can't headcanon that in this universe, they eventually sort it out. So I'm putting it down to one thing:

Break out the dodgy facial hair (I see you're ahead of me, Five) and let's get kicking babies!

[kana-daydreams]

𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐧 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬 || 𝐙𝐨𝐫𝐨(𝐎𝐏𝐋𝐀)

summary: Zoro surprises you with a compliment and you express your appreciation with a surprise of your own—by unintentionally stealing his first kiss. genre: fluff cw: added just a li'l bit of spice wc: 3.3k kana's notes: This was originally suppose to be a drabble, but ig I couldn't help myself😓. Anyways hope you enjoy my fellow Zoro lovers :D

“Told you it was a waste of time.” Nami drawls as she continues to peruse through racks of clothes searching for an outfit to wear for tonight’s dinner while you sit, sulking in a corner next to a discarded heap.

“You don’t have to rub it in y’know.” You lift your head from off your knees to peer up at your friend with a pout. “I’m already regretting all my past decisions.” You say, feeling heat bloom at your cheeks as you recall the couple of model worthy poses (well at least you think they were) you’d mustered up the courage to perform in front of a certain green-haired individual as you tried on multiple styles of clothes ranging from cute to elegant along with a few that showed off some skin— none seeming to had piqued the swordsman’s interest. Not even shamelessly batting your lashes had been enough to earn an ounce of a reaction from him except for his concern that something might have gotten stuck in your eye.

You release a stifled cry at the embarrassing memory, plopping your head back down onto your knees.

“Why did I have to fall for someone incapable of giving a girl a decent compliment?” You say, your words muffled by the fabric of the outfit you’re wearing.

Fishing for compliments wasn’t a habit of yours and seeking validation for your appearance, especially from a guy, definitely wasn’t either. You knew you were a hottie— by your standards anyways. It’s just that you really had somewhat of a thing for Zoro who you’d known for some time now, and hearing him compliment you for just once in your life, no matter how small it was—even if it was only a single word—would be more than enough to send you, having lived a fulfilling life, right to heaven’s pearly white gates.

“C’mon, it’s not the end of the world.” Nami crouches down at your level, giving you a tender pat on the head and you peek an eye open at her to notice that she’s changed into a beautiful and traditional chinese dress; its red colour complementing her ginger-orange hair. 

“I’ve already told you, you look great. Sexy and cute— a deadly combination.” She gives you a wink and you giggle lightly at the action. 

“Thanks, Nami.” You smile.

“No problem.” She lightly pinches your cheeks before standing to her full height. “Now let's finish getting ready, shall we?” She extends a hand down at you. “I have a bet to win.”  

You playfully roll your eyes, remembering her bet with Luffy before taking her hand, the two of you making your way out the grandeur of the closet.

Later at night, under the dazzling lights of a grand chandelier, you and the rest of your newly formed crew along with Usopp—a boy you and the others recently befriended—stand scattered about the spacious foyer of Miss Kaya’s home, awaiting the birthday girl’s presence as you mingle and indulge your taste buds with lavish delicacies being served around on silver platters. 

While you and the crew wine and dine, Zoro stands amongst his own company near the staircase, nursing in his hands, his fourth glass of cocktail—deep brown eyes pinned on your form standing beside Luffy and Usopp.

He watches as you converse with them and as you chow down on platter after platter of food like it’s the last meal of your life alongside Luffy, his gaze drinking in your every smile, your every laugh and the adorable expressions you make as you stuff your cheeks full with every bit of food that comes your way.  It makes him wonder if you and Luffy are having a full on eating competition at the rate the two of you are going.

He only takes his gaze off you when he realises his glass is empty after he goes to chug some of the liquid down, discarding it onto a nearby end table laden with a few more empty glasses alike.

His eyes then search across the room for the server, wanting to satiate his taste for more alcohol, flitting over in your direction when he hears the sound of your voice calling his name. 

“Zoro, you’ve gotta try these!”

Zoro watches as you approach him with animated steps and glances down at the tray you carry in your hands to see chocolate, pink and milk-white covered squares.”

“Is that cho—”

“Yes! And it’s really good!” You bounce on the balls of your feet, the action making Zoro suspect that you’d had way too much chocolate than your sweet tooth could handle. 

“Here, you should try this one.” 

“Chocolate isn’t really my th—” Zoro cuts himself short when he sees one of your hands pick up a chocolate-coated square, offering it to him.

He looks down at the piece of chocolate pinched lightly between your fingers, then back up at your face beaming with a wide smile and then around the room at everyone occupied either in conversation or eating, before returning to settle his gaze back onto you. 

He heaves a sigh. “Does it have alcohol?”

“I don’t think so, but I can go ask if there's any wi—” 

“No, it’s fine.”

Zoro stops you before you can leave, and you watch as he leans forward a bit, shuts his eyes and slightly parts his lips, his actions causing your head to tilt slightly in confusion.

Your questioning look, however, doesn’t last long, slowly fading away and morphing into one of surprise when your brain registers the purpose of his actions.

You almost heave a cough, feeling heat creep up your neck; burning at your cheeks while your hand remains extended with the chocolate held between your fingers as you continue to stand there, unmoving, simply staring up at him— up at a sight you never quite expected to see or would ever see. 

When Zoro doesn’t feel any sign of sugary sweet pressing against his lips, he peeks an eye open to see you staring at him, wide-eyed and mouth agape.

“What are you waiting for?”

“N-Nothing!” Your voice immediately squeaks out.

Zoro only lets out a hum at your response before once again closing his eyes, waiting for you to feed him the chocolate square.

You swallow hard. And your heart rate picks up as you inch the chocolate closer to his mouth, its beat increasing more so when the tips of your fingers brush against his soft lips.

When Zoro feels a sweet warmth mixed with a hint of salt melting against his tongue, he doesn’t have much of a reaction and simply opens his eyes to look down at you.

“I-It’s good? Isn’t it?”

Zoro nods. “Yeah.”

Silence.

“Okay, well, um..I’m gonna go,” you say with a nervous chuckle, pointing a thumb behind you. “Gonna see what else they uh, gotta eat.” You slowly start to reverse your steps, bumping into the server behind you as you do, almost knocking her over along with the full platter of food in her hands.

You profusely apologise to the woman who sends you a disapproving glare before continuing with robot-like movement back in the direction you came, unable to see the hint of red that colours the tips of Zoro’s ears and also the way his gaze lingers on your retreating figure, all the while he stands there regretting that he still couldn’t find the courage nor the right words to tell you how beautiful you were in the outfit you’d chosen to wear tonight, and how cute, pretty—and sexy you looked in the many more he had watched you try on. 

When Kaya’s birthday dinner unfortunately comes to an early close due to her outbreak of rattling coughs, she’s kind enough to allow you along with your friends to stay the night unlike her overprotective butler who wasn’t keen on extending your stay, especially after Luffy and his big rubber mouth revealed that you were pirates.

However, instead of lying, snuggled under the thick, warm blankets of a queen size bed, you traverse through a dim-lit hallway in search of the kitchen to help yourself to a midnight snack.

“Maybe I shouldn’t have given up on looking for Luffy.” You murmur to yourself as you continue to amble along the empty halls with no sense of direction as to where you were going, involuntarily releasing a gasp when your body suddenly collides into another, one more firmer than your own, just as you round a nearby corner.

You look up at the figure that slightly towers over your form, a much less startled expression on their face. 

“Z-Zoro?!” You breathe a sigh of relief at the swordsman’s presence. “Thank the heavens you're not that scary butler. What are you doing here?” Your eyes dart down to the three swords attached to his right hip.

“I’m looking for a drink.” Zoro watches as you place a hand across your chest, attempting to calm yourself down from the jumpscare he’d unintentionally given you. “What about you?”

“Food hunt.” You look back up at him with a small smile.

“...Right.”

There’s a lull in the conversation as you notice Zoro’s gaze fall behind you and on instinct, you turn around to see where his eyes follow. 

“Where’s Luffy?”

The swordsman expected that if you were here; Luffy was here, as the two of you seemed to be joined at the hip everywhere you went, especially when food was involved.

You turn your gaze back to him. “Back in his room, I guess.” You say, your hand no longer attached to your chest trying to calm your racing heart. “I did plan on inviting him, but I don’t know where his room is.”

Something that wasn’t your fault since you were the first to be assigned a room and didn’t get to see where the others’ rooms were. 

“So…” you drawl and Zoro glances down at you to see your lips curve into a mischievous smirk. .

“Since Luffy isn’t here...” you continue. “Wanna be my partner in crime instead? You know, help me scour the kitchen for some gold?” You suggest, with a slight wiggle of your eyebrows.

Your words seem to pique the swordsman’s interest as similar to you, a smirk pulls at his lips and he makes a gesture with his head for you to lead the way and you do, him falling in step beside you.

Apparently, you taking the lead was not the best idea when it came to navigating through a house designed like a maze—a fact you should have known with hindsight—as you and Zoro still continue to roam around the mansion like headless chickens for what seems like about an hour. 

“Why is this place so huge?!” You groan and release somewhat of a frustrated cry, already feeling the urge to quit your endeavour of a kitchen raid. Though, you do not act on the tempting idea since you have no clue of the direction you and Zoro came from—the soft grumbles of your stomach doing little to curb your frustration.

Zoro, as he walks beside you, remains silent at your mini-breakdown, his head craning in your direction when he hears you speak again.

“By the way,” You start. “How was the party?” You ask, trying—key word, trying— to keep your mind from being occupied by the thought of food and mostly because you couldn’t let the opportunity of your alone time with Zoro slip past you.

“The alcohol was good.” 

You wait to hear if he will add more, but he doesn’t, not surprised that his reply ends rather abruptly.

“Yeah, it was.” You agree.

Zoro arches an inquisitive brow. “You drink?”

“Not exactly. But the mocktails were great and so was the food.” You smile and so does Zoro, one so faint that your eyes fail to catch it, when he recalls the happy expression on your face as you devoured any and everything that passed your way; continuing to listen at the soft and vibrant melody of your voice that fills his ears.

“...and what I loved most of all were the desserts, especially those choco..lates.” Your voice suddenly falls when the memory of you feeding Zoro pops into mind, together with how soft his lips felt when your fingers brushed against them.

“Something wrong?”

You glance to your right to see that Zoro is looking at you with a concerned expression, your face warming from his attention.

 “Ah, N-No. Nothing’s wrong.” You reassure him with a small smile. “Just got sidetracked, that’s all.”  You go silent shortly after your response when your eyes make the mistake of flickering down to his lips and quickly turn your attention away from him, dropping your gaze to the ground.

Zoro doesn’t know what causes your sudden silence which prolongs as you both continue down the hall, but he does know that he misses the sound of your voice which leads to him racking his brain for a topic that might be interesting enough to get you to speak again, blurting out the first thing that comes to mind.  

“That outfit you wore tonight—It was nice.”

The words you think you hear Zoro say makes you slow to a stop.

When Zoro notices you’re no longer walking beside him, he turns to see your shock-filled features, immediately feeling himself go pale, and starts to regret the words that just spilled from his mouth—words he’d held back from telling you at Kaya's birthday dinner the entire time his eyes were glued on to you. 

“W-What did you say?” You recover just enough to ask.

Zoro, who stands no more than a few feet away from you, looks back at you and ponders if he should just play it off due to your reaction, but tells himself that doing so would be a cowardly move—and he was not a coward.

He directs his head to the side to keep his face that flushes a light shade of red away from your view. “The outfit you wore at dinner. It looked really nice on you.” He says again, his voice seeming to struggle to get the words out.

You feel heat rush to your skin.

So you did hear him right the first time.

You replay Zoro's words in your head before nervously raising your gaze to look at him. “So, um…” You fidget a bit where you stand. “You think I looked pretty?”

Zoro visibly flinches at your question, still very much avoiding any eye contact.

“Yeah.” He manages an answer after what seems like a couple of seconds. “You always look pretty.”

At his response, a full and goofy smile blossoms on your lips. Then, without thinking—so overcome with joy at Zoro’s one in a lifetime compliment of you that it pushes most of your nervousness aside— your footsteps start moving closer towards his direction, and you tip-toe, just a little to reach his height, aiming at showing your appreciation for his words by gifting him with a kiss on his cheek. 

However the supple softness that your lips meet when you kiss Zoro is not the softness of his cheek, but that of his lips instead when he suddenly turns his head in your direction.

Both Zoro’s dark eyes and yours widen at the realisation and you stumble back, away from him, watching as he touches a finger to his lips.

“I-I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to do that!” Your face steams as you attempt to explain yourself for the accidental kiss. “I-I was just trying to give you a kiss on the cheek—not on your l-lips.”

Dread fills you when you realise that Zoro doesn’t have much of a reaction towards your words and all sorts of thoughts race through your mind at what he might be thinking about the indecent act.

Though all your worries subside when Zoro eventually decides to speak.

“Can…we do that again?” 

Your eyes become saucers at his request. “W-what?”

“I..I want you to kiss me again.”

You almost choke.

Never in this lifetime or any lifetime would you think the stoic swordsman would utter such a request—one that you will be more than happy to fulfil, despite your buckling knees.

 “A-Are you sure?” 

In a few steps, Zoro closes the distance between you both; a gasp leaving your lips when you feel his strong arms snake around your waist pulling you into his larger frame.

“Yes, I'm sure.”

Your heart races as he silently stares down at you, noticing his gaze flicker down to your lips, then slowly back up to meet your eyes.

Heat creeps up your neck at the action, settling on your face and increases ever so slightly at the feeling of the heat that radiates off of Zoro's skin through his clothes from his body being flush against your own.

"You don't want to?" Zoro asks when he notices your somewhat hesitant expression. "It's fine if—"

"No. I do, I do." You rush out, reassuring him that the feeling is mutual. "It's just..." You hesitate. "I've never kissed someone. Well except for you—just now." You smile sheepishly. "I...I might be bad."

Zoro's gaze softens at your words. "Same goes for me."

You feel your heart swell and warmth rise to your cheeks. "That..I was your first?"

Zoro answers you with a single nod, the blush deepening on his face.

You let the revelation sink in: You were Zoro's first kiss.

A reality you can't help but take a moment of silence to relish in as you remain caged between Zoro's arms and the comforting warmth of his body, a warm smile subconsciously gracing your face.

"Can you close your eyes?" your voice comes out barely above a whisper when you're finished relishing in the moment.

Zoro's face wrinkles in confusion. "Why?"

"Because I want to kiss you. "Your voice quavers a bit as you speak. "Won't it be weird if we do it with our eyes open? Though if that's your thing—"

"No. I'll close 'em." Zoro says as his eyes immediately flutter close. And with his eyelids pressed shut, you can't help but stare back at him, admiring every inch of his handsome face and the deep blush that paints its tan skin.

Gingerly, one of your hands reaches up to caress one side of his face as you lean in, swallowing lightly when your lips near his, but pause just before they could meet. "You're really sure about this, right?" You can't help but ask the question again just for good measure.

Zoro shudders a little from the soft touch of your hand against his cheek, and also when he feels the warmness of your breath brush against his lips a few inches away from your own.

He doesn't answer your question immediately and it makes your heart sink that he might be having second thoughts until you feel his lips press tenderly against yours in a feather-light kiss.

The sudden action renders your body somewhat into a state of surprised stillness. But only for a beat, before your eyes flutter close, hands circling Zoro's neck as you lean into the kiss that starts off slow with you both savouring the taste of each other; before it escalates into one more confident, filled with longing and passion.

And the next day after you and Zoro shared a heated kiss at midnight in the dim lights of a lone hallway—forced to pull away, when Luffy unexpectedly popped out from nowhere— you both sneak a quick kiss at the shipyard, where eyes cannot lurk, before joining the rest of the crew who’d acquired a new member to its team, aboard its first ship—The Going Merry.

© 2024 kana-daydreams

reblogs appreciated🥰

[dronebiscuitbat]

Oil is Thicker Then Blood (Part 76)

V, Lizzy and Thad were all standing in the living room of their apartment, all looking a little worse for wear. Lizzy was leaning slightly into V, who had an arm around her back and her tail arched around her protectively. Thad was sitting on the back of the couch, twiddling this thumbs and looking down at the floor.

Lizzy was the first one to speak.

“So… you've got a plan Doorman?” She asked to the nervous couple in front of them, Uzi holding Tera close as the girl clung to her mother, somehow noticing the high tension between her family and falling silent, observing each person.

“You could say that, yeah.” Uzi breathed out, looking up at N, who at this point was biting the ends of his fingers, tail twitching erratically.

“Hey, you'll break your casing.” Uzi reached up and tentatively drug his hand away from his mouth, intangling her fingers with it instead and squeezing gently. N gave her a small, thankful smile as he squeezed back.

“You've all seen the pictures, yeah? Giant mystery flesh pit?” The room nodded, Lizzy rolling her eyes at Uzi's wording but nodding nonetheless.

“It's too big to burn, and any explosive strong enough to kill it all could aerosol the infection, make it airborne and infect us all… or throw the planet out of orbit into the gas giant, or both.”

“Or just finish cracking the planet entirely!” N interrupted, making Uzi slightly pull his arm.

“Or that. Yeah.” She agreed regardless, a coreless planet was a fragile thing, held together barely by it's own gravity.

“So our only real option is to leave.” Uzi announced, looking at each member of this weird family she had accumulated, V looked to be taking this news decently well, at least on the surface, Lizzy and Thad… not so much.

“And how would we do that? It’s not like there's a spaceship ready to hold all 500 of us just sitting outside somewhere.” Lizzy pointed out, crossing her arms ans looking Uzi up and down.

“549, pulled up an exact count last night, that counts all the kids as well.” Uzi continued, pushing back the lingering feelings of apprehension to the back of her mind. “And you're right, there's no easy way off this rock, otherwise I would have left already.” She still couldn't help bit snap at Lizzy, even if it was much less intense then usual.

“But there are multiple landing pods scattered around… reverse engineering them and trying to make something new with them is our best bet. Safest bet.” She clarified, looking down at the toddler in her arms as a way to ground herself.

“But… this is our home. I'm surprised you're not planning on fighting for it Zi.” Thad spoke up, he looked serious; and worried. More worried then Uzi had ever seen him.

“If this was just a year ago, yeah, I would've. But…” She trailed off, looking up at N, who finally looked like he was calming down a little, and who smiled down at her reassuringly.

“I have m-my family to think about now.” She stammered bit, the last vestiges of her emo persona grumbling at her, but she ignored it, this was her family no matter how hodgepodge it was.

“And realistically, we'd probably all die. The only weapons we have are the service pistols the WDF use, which would be useless in this situation.” Thad nodded, even if he didn't seem to like it, going back to twiddling his thumbs and sighing.

V was quiet until now, either in thought or just allowing Uzi to speak.

“So you rally all the workers to build a puddle jumper and we leave. Then what? Drift in space aimlessly?”

“I-I don't know. There's time to think about a destination later, but right now just getting off this planet before it becomes an eldritch meatball is the priority.” Despite V bringing up a very good question, Uzi pushed through, “I think adrift but safe is better then grounded and zombified, right?”

V gave her a small nod and a raise of her eyebrow, acquiescing the point to the smaller drone, making her sigh and close her eyes for a moment.

“I need to talk to my Dad, if anyone can get all of us to work together, it's him. In the meantime… V, how fast can you fly?”

V gave her a look before smirking.

“How fast we talking?”

“Fast enough to scout for more pits, if this thing came from the core, it's probably not the only one. We need to see what we're dealing with.” Uzi explained, and V took a second to think about it.

“It would take a couple days, but yeah, I could do it.” Lizzy suddenly turned to her, eyes slightly pleading as she gripped her a little harder.

“I'll be fine.” V assured her, tone dripping with affection she wasn't trying very hard to hide. “Nothing on this planet I can't handle.”

“Except the flesh pits.” Thad interjected, making both girls look at him with a deadpan expression, before resuming to look at each other. Lizzy sighed “Be careful, it'll be such a hassle to find another bestie. Or whatever.” Pink blush lines appeared on her visor, and V genuinely smiled for a moment before quickly hiding it behind a smirk.

“Oh I'm sure.”

“Right. Okay…” Uzi breathed, this was a plan, something she could do. That's what she was good at.

“Where do you need me?” N asked almost immediately when she looked up at him, looking at her with a mix of pride and adoration. “I can cover with V, it might be faster.”

“No, there needs to be someone here to hold back the infected in case they get to close, fire seems to be the only thing that works, V's faster anyway, sorry hon.” Uzi added after N looked slightly hurt at that.

“You bet I am.” V winked, making Lizzy giggle and V blush slightly in response.

“And I… really need you here…” She said in a whisper intended for only him to hear, which made him smile softly and nod his head.

“What about me and Lizzy?” Thad asked, finally standing up and taking a few steps towards them, gesturing to himself.

“You and Lizzy will convince everyone our age to be on board, you both have influence I don't, use it.” Thad and Lizzy looked at each other, before both began to send out a flurry of messages, Lizzy from her phone, and Thad from his system.

“Right… let's go talk to my Dad.” Uzi sighed, taking N's hand and beginning the trek to his apartment, the trembling in her hands ceasing as N squeezed it.

“Hey, we've got this. Together.”

She smiled, adjusting Tera in her arms.

“Yeah.”

Next ->

[roboj0e]

Wade would bully Peter bc someone said he would and wrote it happening and bc y'all are so boring and annoying. Fanfiction isn't about what's canon or strictly in character thats why they're called transformative works. I think y'alls weird obsession with what's cannon while also trying to heavily police what and how ppl make fiction is honestly been the death of fandom and creativity.

There hasn't been a large scale cross over in fandom in years that either wasn't completely ironic or torn down by bullies that it fizzled out bc y'all don't know how to have fun. Even that recent debate over how sans would react to his brother death is further proof of y'all's lack of understanding of interpretation and fan works. Fanwork are supposed to exist in the reality of the fiction of the person who wrote it. NOT what IS the right interpretation bc there are NO right interpretation except for what is made canon which can be anything bc WE aren't the creators.

Who cares what happens in the comics. The comic themselves don't care what happens in other comic runs unless it's specifically meant to be a spin off/continuation.

Wade is SUPPOSED to be a morally ambiguous character. I know y'all have washed him of all the ambiguity bc ppl have told you that how ur supposed to approach fiction and y'all can not perceive a protag who might not be the best person who ur also NOT supposed to hate (god forbid a protag not have Jesus adjacent morality) but thats what he is. He'll do whatever anyone wrote him doing bc he's not real and also anything thats morally ambiguous or toxic bc that's one of his character traits and what was supposed to set him apparent from other heros he's not even a hero he's an antihero. I can not believe y'all are moralizing something as tame as bullying. Bullies making up with their victims happens in DISNEY movies now y'all tryna make that into some problematic take. OMG. And this is from someone who WAS bullied briefly until I learned how to fight and stand up for myself.

Thinking that someone who romanticizes something morally wrong couldn't have possibly been through that experience is the direct antithesis of fiction. It also makes no sense. Plenty of ppl write from experience but also sometimes turning it into a story in which they control how they interact with a bully does A LOT FOR REGAIN CONTROL OF THOSE NEGATIVE EXPERIENCES. STOP TRYING TO SUS OUT WHO HAS TRAUMA OR NOT. also STOP thinking that you are an authority of certain traumatic experiences you aren't every experiences are very VERY personal and the portrayal of those experiences should have NOTHING to do with yours bc there is NO way to encapsulate all lived experiences. And even if someone hasn't been bullied who cares again decenter yourself from a fictional scenario that should in now way be a representation of you bc u are not the center of the universe.

(THIS SECTION UNDERNEATH IS MY HEAD CANON U DONT HAVE TO TELL ME U DONT LIKE AGE GAPS IDC)

Secondly wade only wouldnt bully Peter TO ME bc I'm not a teenager in highschool like some of y'all and highschool fics don't interest me and wade to me shouldne even be in highschool and always be the much older one in the dynamic. They shouldnt even be near the same age for me. But whatever floats ur boat. You can do whatever you wan't but when y'all make these long posts telling OTHER ppl what they can and can't do OR how you think YOUR interpretation of the character is the most right your crossing a line frl.

Edit: I read both Deadpool and spiderman comics btw plus the very wonderful spiderman/Deadpool run. GASP I know someone who likes the source material but doesn't adhere strictly to it bc I actually have an imagination and like to have fun instead of kissing marvels feet and remaining in a narrow interpretation of a character. A rare breed I guess.

Edit edit: I also think alot of y'all have a very romcom take on spideypool. And thats definitely fine love my fair share of fluff. But I have a much more complicated take on them. Again I think an age gap compliments these complications. It adds to an imbalanced perspective of both of them towards each other. I'm also very uninterested in a spideypool that grow healthy together or peter "fixing" wade. I want them to overcomplicate their relationship but for it to also be a healthy balance of comedic and fun and hot monkey sex that keeps them interested in a less than perfect relationship. A sorta push and pull from both sides.

[castlebyersafterdark]

Thinking about how Will loves to put on make up has got me in a chokehold.

Imagine Mike coming home early one day because he and Will have dinner reservations (or anything like that) and he walks in on Will putting on his eyeliner, face full of glittery make up, and my man is stunned.

Will wanted to surprise Mike by prettying himself up for their date but is upset because he can’t get it right and he needs everything to go perfectly

but Mike is now just focused on ruining Will’s make up (and the bed sheets).

They had to cancel their dinner plans 🤭

"We're going to be late again," said not annoyed or irritated as Mike lingered in the doorway, but matter of fact.

He peeked around the counter and glanced at the absent sway of Will's hips, butt poked out enticingly as Will leaned closer to the mirror. He bit his lip and smiled, then stepped back, giving him space. Fought back temptation.

Will hummed in acknowledgement from the bathroom and said no more. He was trying to concentrate. And not poke his eye again. He'd had to start over on the left eye twice. Artist's hands, typically steady, hadn't mastered the art of tracing soft, chalky pencil against slightly damp skin just yet. He didn't want to look like a clown - and a very sad one at that. Or maybe a raccoon. Either way. Not the look he was going for - that being, the mysterious artist type.

This was a brave step for him.

"What are you doing in there?"

"Can you go wait in the living room or something?" Will asked, not annoyed or irritated either, but nervous.

He wanted to get this right. He wanted to look pretty. It had been a hard enough decision to decide to try this for a night out. His previous little experiments had been subtle, private so far. But they were going out, to a nice dinner in a nice restaurant he felt safe being himself in. Taking a taxi. Alone in the dark backseat, together in some fancy booth. Him and Mike, being their very best selves after working so hard for a treat like this.

"If you want me, too. I can. I just-"

"Just, what? I want to surprise you."

Oh no. Wrong thing to have said to Mike Wheeler, who could never let a damn thing go.

(continued below...)

"A surprise?"

"Mike. Please. It's not that big of a deal," he lied and said no more after Mike's continued pleading inquiries.

Mike groaned and left the doorway. Didn't head to the living room, though, but sat on the edge of the bed. Too antsy, he scooted back, propped against the headboard, legs sprawled, arms like a wingspan across the pillows. He shifted and mustered up a sultry look, hoping that Will would walk out to find him there like an enticing gift soon enough.

He glanced at their bedside clock and saw they actually had a decent amount of time. Yes. They had time. He'd only wanted to play it safe, get out early, factor in unpredictable city traffic.

Mike contemplated unbuckling and getting his own surprise ready. Debated, and spread his legs, palmed at his slightly hard dick, beginning to take interest. They might have time for something quick. Maybe. Better not...

After only several minutes had passed, and barely that, he gave up. He couldn't take it.

"Hey, Will, sorry - oh. Oh, baby look at you."

Will, distracted after concentrating deeply on putting the finishing touches on his look, turned instantly at the sound of Mike's voice this time. Instinctual. Without thinking. He shrugged and gave a coy smile, masking his nerves. Hoped he didn't look stupid. Faked some confidence.

"I've seen me."

"You've seen you. Uh-huh. Have you really?" Mike stepped forward, sly smile in place. "Look at you."

Mike spun Will to face the mirror and hugged him from behind, kiss placed to the back of his head. He stepped back and shook his head. He wanted to devour him.

Will placed the cap back on the make-up and set it down on the counter. Mike traced a finger down the strong line of Will's jaw, contrast to the softness of his other features. He used a finger to tip Will's face up from where he'd cast his gaze to the floor. Needed to see him fully, needed Will to know how how effected he was.

"You are so beautiful, Will. I mean it. So gorgeous. Gosh, I love you."

Will squeaked at the quickness of the kiss that followed, with Mike swooping down to kiss the fresh color on his lips and squeeze him around the waist, drawn flush from thigh to chest. Mike pressed him against the counter, heard the sound of small plastic items clatter over and bounce into the sink and laughed at Will's whine.

"Mike, you're gonna ruin it," Will giggled, and swiped at the corner of his mouth where the light pink color had already smeared a little. It stuck on Mike's bottom lip, too, a slash of pink across his perpetually red mouth.

"Isn't that the point," Mike answered, voice deep and quiet, like low thunder reverberated across marble walls.

"For later. Haven't even gotten to wear it out the door, yet," Will protested but he already could tell his work was going to have to be reapplied before they left the apartment now, going by the look in Mike's eyes.

Will was transfixed to the spot, trapped. Heart rate rising. The foxes were circling the meadow. Little rabbit had nowhere to run.

Mike hummed and kissed his cheek, pulled back to stare at those pretty, dark rimmed eyes. Dark but soft. Carefully, artfully applied liner and mascara, just enough to enhance those bright, doe eyes. Made them look even bigger. Some sort of barely there powder made his skin shimmer and glow on the high points of his cheeks and the side of his face. Made him look otherworldly, delicate. And his mouth - fuck, his mouth. Pouty and pink, stained a perfect color and glossy on top. A vision. Subtle, but with effort that made him look effortless. Like he was supposed to look like that.

Skin soft as ever, hair combed and styled and falling just so, strands slipping between Mike's fingers as he carded a hand through. Flushed cheeks - natural, embarrassed slightly by the situation but excited by Mike's obvious appreciation. Smooth skin, freshly shaven, and the rest of his skin subtly applied with scents of vanilla and deep spice.

Mike was starving.

Dinner could wait.

Mike pressed him harder against the bathroom counter, moving from cheek to neck with kisses that avoided smudging Will's mouth further. Will moaned under the attention, head tilted to the side. Mike undid a few buttons, pushed the silky shirt over Will's shoulder as he mapped a path across his warm, bare skin, hot kisses to every little freckle and mole on his shoulder. He knew what he was doing. He knew every trick and button to push. Teeth to skin, mouth sucking hard at the hollow his Will's neck. A knee raised between Will's thighs, feeling his excitement grow, feeling how Will was just as instantly keyed up as him.

"What time is it?" Will gasped as Mike passed a thumb back and forth over his nipple, hissing through the jolt of pleasurable ache that shot down to his cock when Mike pinched and rolled the bud.

"I don't know. I don't care. We have time."

"Seemed impatient to get going before."

"Was I? Doesn't sound like me at all."

Will didn't answer and sprung into action. Fine. He wanted to play now.

He pushed off the counter and led Mike backwards from the bathroom to their bedroom, and shoved Mike down onto the bed. Mike's legs spread on muscle memory as Will shouldered his way in, already grappling at Mike's belt buckle.

Will's mouth was on Mike as soon as his pants and briefs were shoved partially down, out of the way only enough for Will to get at hot skin, mouth watering for it. Lips sealed over the leaking tips, savoring the taste like he was breaking a hunger strike. His talented tongue, his lips stretched and sliding down. Breath harsh through his nose. He was drooling around it, working his jaw to take Mike down further, now the impatient one.

He gagged on Mike's length, too eager, and received a soothing hand cradled his face to slow him down. Mike said as much out loud. Will didn't want that. He wanted to look pretty and he wanted to be used.

He pulled off and sat back on his heels, looking up at Mike. Make up mostly still intact, save for the smeared pink around the corners of his lips - some was left on the skin of Mike's dick. Will saw it, wanted to lick it off.

Soon enough.

Watery eyes. Wide. Pleading. Mouth open, tongue out. And Mike was the one who took action now.

It was a blur from there. Pants fell the rest of the way to the floor, clank of belt buckle. Big hands cradled the back of Will's skull. Cock slid between perfect, pink lips, heavy in Will's mouth. Will let his body go slack along with his jaw, hyper aware of his shoulders, his neck, releasing the tension and working his throat, fighting the urge to choke as Mike guided him, shallow thrust fucking his mouth and driving into a deep grind as Will swallowed him down.

So wet. An entire mess. Make-up ruined as the perfect, pretty color across Will's lips had mostly disappeared. Mixed with the saliva that dripped down his chin, spat from his mouth as Mike pulled off at at a painful sounding gag, only for Will to dive back in and suck him harder after several heaving gasps, hand flying over Mike's dick until he was ready.

Tears in the mix. Shimmer from Will's cheeks rubbed off on Mike' s hands and wrists, tiny specs of glitter embedded in Mike's pubes. Neither were going to notice that one. Didn't matter. Will gripped the back of Mike's thighs and swallowed and sucked and moaned until Mike pulled back, shallow thrusts until he spilled over Will's tongue and lips, painting him with a new color to replace the one he ruined.

Mike collapsed to the bed, bouncing on the mattress as his legs gave out. Will was pulled along with him, still gripped around his thighs. They laughed together and resettled. Will rested against Mike's bare thigh, draped across him, taking deep breaths after licking his lips as clean as possible at that point. Sticky mouth pressed to pale skin. Mike pet at his hair as he caught his own breath, as variations of "fuck, what the fuck, oh my god Will, what the fuck" were muttered above Will's head. He pressed nimble fingers along Will's jaw, soothing to the sure ache.

Will looked up at Mike and if he hadn't just come, Mike would have stiffened up full right then and there. Stirrings, though, a definite twitch as he took in the sight of Will. Debauched. Ruined. Like a fallen angel, landing directly into his lap. A big splotch of black makeup was smeared across Mike's leg along with a streak of come. Nothing compared to the state of Will.

Will's once so precise and demure eyeliner and lash application was smudged and streaked, bare patches in odd places as the rest followed sweat and tear tracks down flushed cheeks, mixed with the tiny bits of shimmer that remained on his face, overall shiny with spit and everything else.

"How do I look?"

Mike burst out a laugh at Will's quiet question, then hauled the man up into his lap, only to fall backwards onto the mattress together in a tangle of limbs and clothing. Mike kicked off his pants and reached down to start undressing Will, eager to repay and miss their dinner reservation entirely...

[seajelllies]

𝑪𝑯𝑨𝑷𝑻𝑬𝑹 𝟒 ♡︎ Stupidity runs in the family

masterlist ✎ roll call 1 ✎ roll call 2

You grumble quietly to yourself as you press gently onto your face, trying to feel for any specific areas of pain. Doesn't seem like the brick wall did much damage to you other than temporarily making you dizzy, thank god, because if you show up with lines all over your face Yuji's going to compare it to his brother's tattoos. The thought makes your eye twitch.

You place your hand on the wall in front of you, trying to balance yourself for a moment, letting out a soft sigh.

You flinch the moment you feel cold air blow on the back of your neck accompanied by a low chuckle. You instinctively whip your head around, hand about to whack whoever decided it was such a good idea to stand right up against your back but before you can process anything, your wrist is caught.

"Gotta be quicker than that, sweetheart."

Damn. You didn't even need to see his face completely to recognize the annoying purr. How a man you met for less than 10 minutes manage to cement himself into your brain so quickly, you'll never know.

"Not your sweetheart." You frown again, glancing up to meet his bored gaze. He lets go of your wrist without needing to be told to, and you take note of how little pressure he had despite being able to stop you so easily. Must have good control, that, or he assumed you weren't enough of a threat to put too much effort into stopping you.

And considering all you do is study to the point where you lack sleep, you couldn't even feel offended even if you wanted to be. You stood there awkwardly for a moment, absentmindedly rubbing your wrist with your thumb before glancing away.

"...Did you see?"

"See what?"

"Me walk into the wall."

"What wall?"

You can hear the amusement in his voice despite his borderline blank expression as he shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans, feigning ignorance. He averts his eyes to the side and you can see the teasing glint in his eyes. You suddenly feel the urge to bash your head against the wall- on purpose this time.

"You're not funny." You mumble, turning around to continue making your way towards Yuji- well, Sukuna's dorm too. You hadn't even considered that you might bump into him on campus one of these days, and certainly not so soon.

You don't bother turning around to see if he's also following you, but you don't even have to. You catch a glimpse of his figure next to you, at a decent distance quietly without so much as glancing at you either.

You half expected him to actually start walking past you, since you assume he could probably speed walk back to his dorm faster than you could run to it- but no. Instead, he maintains the same pace as you, simply staring forward with an apathetic expression. The two of you walk in silence for a moment before he ruins the blissful silence.

"You do that often?" He asks, eyes still focused in front of him.

"What, walk into walls?" You ask, and when he lets out a low hum in response you awkwardly shrug. "Sometimes. It's not like I do it on purpose."

"I don't think anyone walks into walls on purpose." He lets out an amused scoff, shaking his head at the thought and you pretend not to notice the way the corner of his lips curl ever so slightly. It disappeared as soon as you notice.

"Wonder how good you can tutor my brother with severe brain damage." He points out, finally glancing at you out of the corner of his eyes.

"I'm almost certain someone with brain damage still has more braincells than Yuji." You snort without hesitation.

"Hm."

The walk is relatively quiet again up until you make it back to the dorms, where he finally starts to walk ahead of you because of the narrow hallways, occasionally glancing over his shoulder. If you were delusional enough you'd assume it's because he wants to make sure he isn't walking too fast.

You manage to keep your pace with him, and the two of you make it to the dorm room. The minute you walk in you're greeted to Yuji staring like he's seen a ghost, eyes glancing from his brother, to you, back to his brother and rinse and repeat.

Finally Sukuna spoke up, removing his jacket and flinging it on his bed. "What's with your face? You look stupid."

"You guys came together?" Yuji asks confused, earning a nonchalant shrug from his brother.

"So?"

"So?" Yuji repeats, completely dumbstruck.

Between him, Nobara and Megumi's reactions to Sukuna, you're starting to wonder if the dude just murders babies for fun or something. Why is it every time you interact with him people act like you're the dumb girl in a horror movie that doesn't realize she's talking to the murderer?

"Nevermind that, Yuji, are you ready? You need to make up for lost time yesterday." You shake your thoughts away, moving to take a seat next to him with a sigh. Textbook after textbook leaves your bag and you watch Yuji's face change from confusion to exhaustion- and he hasn't even read a single page yet.

"Yeah..." He replies with a dejected whine.

"Yuji, how the hell did you graduate high school?"

Barely an hour later you feel like you're losing your mind- it was easy to ramble and explain things to him the day he met you in the library, so how come he barely seemed to be paying attention in the comfort of his own room?

"Cheated on his finals." Sukuna chimed in, not even bothering to look at the two of you, scrolling on his phone mindlessly as he relaxes in the bed behind you.

"He- He what!?" You whipped your head back to look at him and then back at Yuji. "Yuji???"

Your best friend simply averts his gaze, pursing his lips while he pretends to no hear a single word you're saying. You resist the urge to whack him in the face with the textbook as you lean back in the chair, letting out an exasperated groan.

"There's no way you're making it, Yuji, I have absolutely no idea how you're going to pass anything." You regret having to tell him this, but you can't see him even making it half the year at this point.

"I thought you said you'd help me!" Yuji looked genuinely distraught at the fact that you might be giving up on him, giving you his usual puppy dog pleading frown.

"Don't- Don't give me that face." You mumble weakly, trying to remind yourself that you could be doing literally anything else right now. Like studying for your own classes. "That was when I thought you knew the basic fundamentals! How am I supposed to reteach you something we learned freshmen year?"

You give him a serious frown, and he doesn't bother pleading again. He just looks so.. sad. He really was trying his best, you knew this, but you were painfully aware that this was going to take longer than a week or two of tutoring- which was exactly how long you expected this to go on.

After an uncomfortable pause, Yuji speaks up, bouncing his leg slightly- something he does when he's a bit anxious.

"I really need to stay here, Y/N." He says seriously, a fire of determination in his eyes as he glances up at you. "Please. I'm begging you, help me."

You bite your lip with a frown, unsure. On one hand, he's your best friend, and realistically so long as it was physically possible and doesn't hurt anyone, you would do anything for him. On the other, you also need to prioritize your own goals. You're in no way failing, not even close, but you don't know how your grades will look when you stop this insane schedule you've already set for yourself.

Your thoughts are interrupted when he gets a text and he jumps out of his seat.

"Ah- The foods here, gotta go to the front to pick it up- just please. Please think about it? I'll buy you 2- no, 3 meals a day! Just think about it!" Before you can even give him an answer, he's out the door once again, and you start feeling deja vu.

You let out a frustrated sigh, the options felt like a heavy weight on your chest no matter what you choose. It really wasn't the worst thing in the world to help your friend out, and you don't want to see him having to drop out either.

Your thoughts are once again, interrupted- this time by a low, gruff voice.

"You're gonna say no, huh?"

"He's a lost cause." You reply honestly, glancing behind you, and you make eye contact with Sukuna for a second. Your eye twitched slightly, and you start wondering how long he was staring at you since that conversation.

He doesn't respond right away, he just simply maintained eye contact. After what felt like an awkward pause, he lets out a long heavy sigh.

"He's not as stupid as he seems," He starts off, to which you blinked in slight surprise. Form his demeanor you almost expected him to laugh it off, but he's surprisingly seems a bit serious. "He can do it if he puts his mind to it."

"I know that." You reply without hesitation. You've known Yuji for years now, of course you're aware that he's a hard worker. Sometimes he just gets overwhelmed, and you've seen him crumble before, the stress overtaking him.

"But I-"

"I need him to stay here." He cuts you off without care, and he sits up on the edge of his bed, leaning over to rest his elbows on his knees. He leans forward slightly, eyes not once leaving yours. "I know you have your own shit going on, but I need him to graduate with some kind of degree."

You break the eye contact, staring at the ground between the two of you in silence. When you look back up at him, you see he still hasn't looked away from you.

"Why?"

His expression contorts slightly, he almost looks disgusted but you can't tell with what exactly.

"I just need him to. He deserves a better future." He grumbles the last part so quietly, you almost miss it.

Oh. A caring older brother? Didn't look the type- let alone sound like the type. But something about how bluntly he said it resonated with you.

Damn it.

You were about to respond, before the front door opens and Yuji walks in with a big bag of food, only for Sukuna's eye to twitch, as he raises a brow.

"Why the hell did you order so much?"

"I didn't! I swear! I think they must've given me extra stuff by mistake!" He defends himself, placing 3 bags of take out on the table to which your eyes widen and you nearly start drooling.

You also forgot how hungry you were.

"Yuji- Give me the receipt." Sukuna grunts, scowling as he yanks the suspiciously long paper. It took only a moment for him to blink at the paper before he slowly let out a groan, covering his face with his hand as he drops the paper on the ground. "How... do you- You ordered 6 of the same thing."

"WHAT!?"

"PUT THE GUITAR DOWN!" Yuji shrieks, jumping from his bed to Sukuna's, back and forth while the taller male simply shakes the instrument in his hands, debating if it was actually worth it.

"That's an entire day's worth of money."

"IN MY DEFENSE, IT WAS AN ACCIDENT!"

"That's not-" Sukuna swings the guitar but he misses, to which Yuji yelps and slips off his bed and onto the ground, all while you watch just casually eating your sandwich without a care in the world, eyes following the chaos. "-a good defense."

"I'M SORRY WOAH WOAH WOAH! STOP!" Yuji pleads as Sukuna stands over his menacingly, and for once you see a smile spread on his face- but it is in no way positive. It was like a predator watching its prey struggle to run when it knows it can't.

The sight makes you start to understand where everyone's fear is coming from... Sort of- If it weren't for the sheer ridiculousness of the situation.

"It's only... a day, is it really that bad?" You make the mistake of speaking up, and Sukuna turns his gaze away from his brother and you start wondering if you should shove as much food as you can into your bag and make a run for it.

"Of course the person eating for free would say that." He scowls, eye twitching.

"It was an accident," You pauses, before glancing at the guitar in his arms. "I'm pretty sure if you whack him with that you'd lose even more money, and it'd be a waste."

Sukuna frowned, slowly bringing his guitar down and lightly tossing it onto his bed with a frustrated sigh, running his hand through his hair as he gently kicks Yuji's leg to let him know he can stand up.

"An accident or not, I'm the one paying for both the food and our tuition."

Yuji quickly stands up with an apologetic expression, awkwardly rubbing the back of his head.

"I'm really sor-"

"So this is your fault." Sukuna cuts Yuji's apology off by pointing to you.

You pause mid chew, raising a brow in confusion as you look from him and back to Yuji, then to him once again. How he came to that conclusion, you had no clue.

"How exactly is this my fault?"

"He wouldn't have ordered this much food if you weren't here." He folds his arms over his chest, looking at the various bags almost bored.

"I-" You try to deny it but he did only order food in exchange for tutoring, so essentially, you suppose the blame could be pushed onto you. Technically. But you also technically had no way of paying for this food back, so you sit there awkwardly.

"Hey, no it's my fault for not reading th-"

"So," Sukuna cuts his brother off again, effortlessly taking a few big steps closer to you. You watch as he towers over you, and he slowly leans down to your eye level, crimson eyes boring into yours. You feel something akin to fear for only a few seconds, before his lips curl into a mischievous grin "How are you going to make it up to me, sweetheart?"

You think your options over briefly- you do not have to money to pay him back since you don't have a job, you barely had enough money leftover from buying textbooks at the start of the semester. You were running out of options.

"Dude, let me pay for it." Yuji places his hand on his shoulder, pulling him back from you slightly.

"With what fucking money, Yuji?" The stress was evident in his eyes, and you could see him gritting his teeth. You think about the conversation you guys had before Yuji came in.

"I'll keep tutoring Yuji till the end of the year."

The two of them glance back at you with a confused expression, but Sukuna's quickly went back to being in its hostile natural scowl.

"How exactly does that help me?"

"I'll make sure he maintains the bare minimum at the very least," You reply quickly, eyes darting from him and then towards Yuji who looks grateful, if not a bit guilty that you're practically being forced into this decision now instead of willingly doing so. "And I'll make sure he doesn't get kicked. So that way his tuition wasn't wasted."

Sukuna is silent for a moment, before his scowl fades into a teasing grin and- that cheeky bastard wasn't actually blaming you, that was his angle all along. To figure out a way to force you to continue tutoring him- which, truthfully, was useless since you were going to continue tutoring him anyways. Something about the way he looked while admitting that he wanted Yuji to have a better future hit you harder than you expected.

"Alright then, works for me." He replies a bit too fast, which only further proves your suspicions.

You want to cut in and call him out on his calculated guilt tripping but the moment you saw Yuji's eyes light up and come to hug you from the side, thanking you despite his own guilt, you simply relaxed into the side hug. You figure it's useless, the outcome would've been the same regardless.

You try to ignore Sukuna's smug expression as you and Yuji go back to studying shortly after you eat.

"W...What? This doesn't make any sense." Yuji scratches his head, leaning over the textbook in confusion.

"It's a contradiction-"

"Isn't that a condom?" Sukuna cuts in.

"That's... That's a contraceptive-" You're appalled for a moment before you get caught off again by Sukuna.

"You're sounding real condensation right now."

"I know that one! That's like, when someone's being a know it all." Yuji beams proudly, and Sukuna and him exchange a high five as though they were completely right.

"...Condescending. The word is condescending guys... Oh my god." You lay your head down on the table in defeat.

You're starting to think stupidity might run in the family.

𝑻𝒐𝒅𝒂𝒚'𝒔 𝑵𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔!

︾ ...Ehe... nearly 3k words... my brain is fried (╥ᆺ╥；) Take a shot every time I use the word 'glance' or 'sigh' www

︾ I originally had a better tie in to the title, but then realized the longer I wrote the more I deviated off of my original idea for this chapter,, but I ended up liking it more. So sorry for the big walls of text qwq I will do more screenshots, I promise. Let me know if all the writing is annoying, I can try to condense it better next time ( •̯́ ₃ •̯̀)

︾ I apologize for weird sentences or grammar issues, I haven't written in it in years ∠( ᐛ 」∠)＿

𝑹𝒐𝒍𝒍 𝑪𝒂𝒍𝒍! the taglist

@sweetteez @stressed-cryptid @moxiiscool @ashfrommyfire @nikkimvriee @ggizaopunkg1bson @dazaisms

[msnanu]

Libertine 08 | JJK

Libertines put value on physical pleasures, meaning those experienced through the senses.

❧ Series Masterlist ❧

⏤summary ❧ He has a reputation for being the most promiscuous man on campus, and you, well, you are basically him in women’s pants. It will be the very first time that Jungkook is faced with someone who is gonna make him question his feelings and actions.

⏤𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 ❧ f*boy jungkook x f*girl female reader

⏤𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘳𝘦 ❧ some fluff, smut, mild angst, teasing and lots of sexual tension.

⏤𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 ❧ mature language, NSFW🔞

❧ banner by: @dojakoo ❧

Hearing your own name, you forced yourself and took a step back, freeing yourself from Jungkook's strong grip. Your eyes were widened, and your breathing became loud, ragged, you swallowed hard and gazed up at him superbly. Your gaze was filled with arrogance and pride. Your mouth was slightly open as you cautiously pondered what your next words would be.

Jungkook narrowed his eyes on you. At first, seeing you trembling, Jungkook felt sorry, and a part of him regretted putting you in that situation. However, that last look you were giving him made him furious, annoyed.

He swallowed hard, getting up from the counter. His heart was racing, his face was hard. Dear God, how he hated being in that position. In the position of someone who had given in, somehow confessed.

Seeing you wet your lips to initiate some sort of response that he already knew wouldn't be decent, Jungkook anticipated.

“I see.” 

It was the only thing he managed to say before his voice started to crack.

Jungkook was keeping a safe distance from you. Not so close so you could manipulate him and not so far away that you could escape.

Hearing his answer, you took a step forward and sought to place your hand on his arm.

“Jungkook,” you pleaded.

You seemed determined to answer him, not to let that conversation go unfinished, but whatever answer Jungkook got now wouldn't make him feel much better. He dodged your fervent hands, seeking his way out of the kitchen. That space was getting too small for all that drama.

“I don't care.” Jungkook said defeated. “And I don't wanna know.”

He turned away, hearing your footsteps follow him.

“Jungkook, wait.” You raised your voice, insisting.

Jungkook stopped halfway, standing in the center of the room. He thought for a few seconds if he should turn to face you. He knew that looking at you now could bring him to his knees. Despite all that drama, you were still the same Y/N who had caught his eye in the courtyard, the same one who had rejected him, who had slept with his friend, who had slept with him.

You had a certain power over him, which although it was painful for him to admit, he knew you disturbed him.

Thinking of his own well-being, Jungkook took a deep breath and continued his selfish steps toward the door. He couldn't give you a chance to explain.

Without turning around, with his hand on the knob, he said softly. “I can take you home now.” 

He thought of adding a “if you wish” to the end of the sentence, but regardless of your will, it was his will that you’d go home. If he stayed one more second in the same room with you, either you would fight badly, or he would end up talking too much about how he feels about you. And neither of those two options sounded good to him.

He heard you scoff.

It was a scoff that filled the entire room, making it unbearable to be in. Jungkook didn't need to look to know that you were staring at him with probably the most arrogant demeanor you possessed and your face in disbelief.

In a matter of seconds, the mocking sound were replaced by your steady steps towards the door.

You didn’t understand him. You didn’t understand his feelings or yours. He is a certified fuckboy; you are just the same. His words were too difficult for you to process and even more, to believe. It was in your nature to not feel anything for the people you slept with. But who were you kidding? You both were way past that, even when you were denying it to yourself and him. Neither of you wanted to let your guards down.

To Jungkook's misfortune, your agility in getting through the door caused your cursed scent to leave an intoxicating trail behind. It was the purest scent of agony mixed with lust. A scent that made Jungkook want to take you by the arm and strip all of your clothes off, slowly so that you agonized, as he kissed every inch of your body, as he worshiped every inch of you. At the same time, it was a scent that made him sick to his stomach, that made him want to throw you out of his life for good.

You were intoxicating, venomous, and noxious. A real danger to his peace of mind.

Oh, dear God, how in that moment he wished he'd never met you, never looked for you, never crossed your path. Quickly Taehyung's speech about seeing you as a challenge came to his mind. He had indeed seen you as a challenge, something impossible that he would somehow achieve, but now that didn't matter, it didn't make the slightest difference, he already knew he had lost. And worst of all, he knew he cared for you, felt it in his bones, that he cared for you.

You had rejected him. At the slightest sign of affection that he'd let slip, you'd rejected him. Without even saying a word.

His thoughts were trying to organize themselves, trying to figure out a way to forget about you or at least forget about that shitty kitchen scene. 

He watched you get into his car with the same boastful look on your face, your mouth healing into a fully disgusted pout.

The drive to your house was extremely torturing. Jungkook was physically uncomfortable. You remained silent, slowly your hard face turned into a soft, relieved face, which made Jungkook feel even more uncomfortable. You didn't look so angry anymore, it was like you felt…satisfied or more at ease.

Your breathing had calmed down and your body didn't seem anxious. 

Jungkook felt hatred.

His eyes were so wide on the street in front of him that he could barely understand how he had noticed so many details of the girl next to him. With each turn that approached your house he let out a low sigh, his hands were eager on the steering wheel, it was as if the end of the world was coming.

Approaching your building, Jungkook began to swallow hard, his throat getting drier than usual. It was that old feeling of anticipation, but this time it had nothing to do with sex, and that was terrible.

He parked slowly and refused to look at you, even though his body was practically forcing him to. His eyes were trembling, practically begging him to look at you. His fingers drummed the steering wheel, crying out to feel the softness of your body. And his lips twitched, wanting to taste you. 

You leaned on the car's gearshift and approached Jungkook. Again, your scent made him take a deep breath. In a slow and extremely long movement, you placed a kiss on his cheek, making him clench his jaw. It was a gentle kiss, without a hint of lust.

It wasn't an “I'm sorry” kiss, much less an “I care about you” kiss, but it was a kiss of resignation, at least that’s what he thought. It was as if you were telling him that nothing had changed, that he could look for you again. It was weird. The naturalness with you managed to sound so unassuming with just a simple kiss on his cheek. While his emotions were running high, his mind seemed to have no control over his body, you were there beside him, calm, serene.

In reality you were confused as fuck, you couldn’t understand why he was so upset. He didn’t even let you talk. You felt like he was constantly confusing you. One day he is rubbing in your face that he’s with Seulgi, the next day he is saying that he cares about you. How is it possible to believe his words? And if it was the truth, you really didn’t know how to handle it, you didn’t want to start overthinking about how he makes you feel, you were just fucking for crying out loud!

God only knows how much Jungkook wanted to look at you right now, wanted to turn and hold your face close, wanted to kiss you until he forgot why he was so pissed. Everything in that small space in the car seemed amplified. His blood felt even hotter, the softness of your lips against his face made him shiver, even the crackling sound of your kiss on his cheek seemed too loud.

With his jaw still clenched, Jungkook struggled to keep looking straight ahead, not an inch to the side. Despite every fiber in his body begging him to give in, he didn't want to, he already felt small enough next to you, he didn't need another reason to feel even worse.

When you slowly pulled away, he allowed himself to take a deep breath and loosen his grip on the steering wheel.

You didn't wait for him to look at you, with all the calm in the world you got out of the car and walked towards the entrance of your building. Out of the corner of his eye, Jungkook saw that you hadn't turned around at all. That situation was pure torture.

And there went another shitty weekend. For the first time in his life Jungkook was looking forward to Monday, at least in college he wouldn't have to think about you.

Absolutely everything he did reminded him of you. His bed had that fucking good smell, every part of his sheet smelled like that. The kitchen had few memories of your smiles, your kisses. The living room reminded him of the two of you lying together, teasing each other. It was the embodiment of hell on Earth.

You had made his own house unbearable to be in.

It was different for him to feel this way, to feel so affected by a girl, especially by a girl who was supposed to be just another fuck in his life. Jungkook couldn't say he hated that feeling. On the one hand it was exciting, dangerous, as if he were pushing the limits of his own body, on the other hand it was depressing, worrying, and extremely vulnerable.

All weekend his body begged for you. It was physically painful how needy he was for you, for your body. At the end of Sunday, he thought about calling you, he thought about going to your house, he even thought about relieving himself, but he knew it would only make him feel weaker. His ego hadn't diminished enough for him to humble himself for you, not yet.

As he made his way to the courtyard to meet his friends on Monday, Jungkook silently thanked God. He was... happy. Heavens, that was absurd. He couldn't understand how a girl could mess with him so much as to make him like going to college. 

With hurried steps, he craved the company of his friends. He wanted to hear about Yoongi's weekend with some random girl, Jin's football bullshit, Taehyung's advice, even wanted to roll his eyes at Jimin, anything that would keep him from thinking about you.

It was time for the last class, he wanted to be in college, but he didn't really want to participate. So, it felt good to arrive for the final class. At least the professors wouldn't complain about his absence all morning.

Approaching his group, an incredibly familiar laugh emerged.

Slowing his steps, his eyes caught a small figure in front of Taehyung. With your hair down and shorts that barely reached mid-thigh, you were gesturing something that was making his friend laugh.

His other friends seemed engaged in their own conversations, but you and Taehyung were in your own little world. Your laughter was loud and joined together in unison, making the scene even more irritating for Jungkook. Your body was moving excitedly, your hair felt extremely soft as it moved under your shoulder, and your skin glowed against the sun.

He tried to swallow hard, tried to scold, even tried to blink to see if you were really there, but his body failed to show any stimulation. Despite your loud voices, he just couldn't hear the conversation, his mind was blank, a complete void.

“Son of a bitch.” He muttered to himself.

Finally, mustering some strength, his face turned into a sneering, incredulous smile.

Seconds later his gaze met Taehyung's, who was clearly not aware of the unpleasant situation you both had ended up in on Friday.

“Kook! I thought you weren't coming today.” Taehyung roared happily.

From that moment forward, all events were exceptionally planned by some superior divine force to mistreat Jungkook. He felt like the entire universe was plotting against him, punishing him for something he didn't know he'd done.

Oh, how roles had reversed, he didn’t even realize that he was feeling the same exact way that girls who slept with him used to feel afterwards when he ignored them completely.

Your voice fell silent. Your body slowly turned to face him, your hands were now down and all the excitement from before was gone. Your face was serious, impassive as usual, but with a hint of superiority. Looking at you from above, he could even feel a little better, but that feeling lasted seconds.

There it was just the two of you, there was no Taehyung, there was no one else.

“Don't you have your own friends to bother with?” The words came out bitter from his lips. “Or somewhere better to be?”

Okay, he is mad.

Before you could respond, Jungkook caught Taehyung's startled reaction behind you. His hyung was whisper-screaming what Jungkook guessed to be a “Dude, what the fuck?”. Taehyung seemed, at the same time, discredited at his friend's lack of manners and confused by his gratuitous rudeness.

“I actually do, indeed. I just wanted to talk to you today.” You replied simplistically, your voice low.

Your calm in certain kinds of situations should no longer surprise him, however, once again he found himself speechless. You were standing in front of him with your posture straight, exuding a degree of confidence that could defy even death. Your voice, though low, was extremely steady, and your eyes dared not leave his.

You were really a seductress, a kind of sorceress, who could at any moment wrest whatever you wanted from him.

Jungkook didn't want to talk to you, didn't want to hear what you had to say, didn't want to give you even the chance to manipulate him, but in some kind of twisted way he wanted to be in your presence, despite denying it to himself.

Struggling to hide his surprise, he simply nodded.

“What do you want?” He asked dryly.

A mocking giggle escaped your lips. “Not here, not now, Jungkook. I have class n-”

God, his name sounded like the most esoteric thing in the world coming from your mouth.

Annoyed by your laughter, he quickly cut you off. “I can only talk now, darling.”

What an asshole he is.

Watching you swallow, Jungkook couldn't help but smile triumphantly. That had been one of the few times he'd managed to make you uncomfortable, he had to be given credit. You huffed, looking at him impatiently. He knew you didn't like to skip classes, which made this scene even more fun for him.

You bit your lip, staring at him with disdain.

“Fine.” You gave in. “But not here.”

Once again, a smile played on his lips. For the second time since meeting you, Jungkook felt the upper hand. And this time, it had nothing to do with sex. 

“Lead the way.” He said blatantly, making room for you to pass.

Before following you, his gaze met Taehyung's, who now seemed even more unhappy with your communication or lack of, should I say? Jungkook made a point of winking at his friend, desperately wanting to show he was in control, even though he knew a snap of your fingers would bring him to his knees.

For a brief moment, he felt bad for his friend. He knew that Taehyung was trying to help him, that all his mention of you had been intended to get him to finally "settle" with someone. But Taehyung didn't know you like he did, at least that's what he liked to think, didn't know that you could be a demon when you wanted to, that you'd already rejected him, that you could at any moment sleep with some other friend of his.

There were several things he would never admit to his friend, things that were part of his private insecurities.

Following in your footsteps, Jungkook noticed the people around them dwindling, as did the side conversations. You were taking him to the college garden, behind the athletic field. Your footsteps ahead of him were steady, loud, and he could see that your hands were clenching, as if they were trying to control their anxiety.

You didn’t even know what to say exactly. Since when do you have talks with your fuck buddies? You fuck and go, that’s the beauty of it, there’s no complications, no feelings involved, no ‘I care about you’ but somehow, here you are, about to have a talk with Jeon Jungkook and you are fucking anxious because this is not your comfort zone at all and worst of all, you know he has noticed it.

When you were a good distance away from the rest of the students, you stopped abruptly and leaned against the gym's railing.

The silence between the two remained for a very short time.

“So?” Jungkook asked, feigning indifference.

You took a deep breath, your mouth starting to mumble some things Jungkook couldn't understand. You were hesitating.

As helpless as you looked, he couldn't help but find that scene a masterpiece.

He took a step forward, teasing you. “Y/N?”

With his head tilted slightly, he felt he had invaded your personal space.

“I'm not here to apologize to you, Jungkook.” You said between a long sigh. At this point, it was obvious how uncomfortable that situation was for you. Your whole way of acting screamed insecurity, your feet were restless, your hands were clenched, and your lips were moist at an absurd frequency. “I just... I... You seemed distant when you dropped me home on Friday.”

Were you for real?

Worst of all, you actually looked serious as you spoke to him. Jungkook was so incredulous, how could you be so ignorant? Acting as if his behavior was something unusual for that situation. Which then again, for you it was unusual.

You couldn’t stop thinking how much of this is so weird for you and out of all people that you’ve slept with that he, the most promiscuous guy in the campus, is the one confessing that he supposedly ‘cares about you’. It’s hard to think that any of his words could be truthful.

Jungkook couldn't help but frown at you.

“Why do you care? As far as I remember, you don't feel anything for me.” He grinned teasingly. “Right, Y/N?”

Jungkook wanted to sound much more serious, cordial, tough, but the atmosphere at the moment practically begged him to be a complete asshole and use every mocking tone he possessed.

You were just a few feet away, your scent as always making a point of showing him that you could dominate him whenever you wanted, whenever you felt like it. The white blouse you were wearing was tight, which molded your body even more. The shorts you were wearing drew even more attention from his eyes to your thighs. It was a whole compilation of things that made him lose his mind just being around you.

To his misfortune, besides teasing him in the right measure, you also knew exactly how to deal with the kind of attitude he was having.

Before even allowing your face to transform into one of indignation, you forced yourself to return his smile.

“Right, Jungkook.”

Jungkook.

Thousands of girls could repeat his name and none of them would compare.

You continued, flashing an even more brazen smile. “What a spoiled man you are. Or should I say boy?” You took a step forward trying to intimidate him. “I’m not here because I want to apologize for leaving you without an answer.”

Watching you build confidence was quite a show for Jungkook. That's because on Friday you looked like the most helpless creature in the world in his house.

He enjoyed that.

“I’m here because our sex is great, and I don’t want lose it.” Your voice came out steady, serene.

Is it only for the sex, though? He was indeed the best sex you’ve ever had. But you were denied to see it as something more, even if your stomach felt weird every time you looked at those doe eyes. It’s just sex, you repeated yourself in your own mind.

A silly smile played on Jungkook's lips; his eyebrows involuntarily raised in surprise. He'd already lost count of how many times your sincerity had frightened him. He thought with time he would get used to it, but every time it was the same shock. 

You kept your face relaxed, and your tone was extremely smug. You could defeat even the devil with all that arrogance.

Seeing that Jungkook had made no move to question you, you continued to tease him, unabashedly. “Are you mad because you were the first to give in?”

Your voice was now a whisper, almost menacing.

At that, he had to laugh.

It hadn't been intentional, but Jungkook just couldn't hold back the loud laugh that came to his lips. You both had a playful smile on your faces, but it was clear that yours was more confident. Even with Jungkook's mockery you held your ground.

“You know so little about me, Y/N.” He leaned forward, forcing you to take a step back.

A mocking sigh rose in the air. “Too bad for you, boy, I know everything about you.” You narrowed your eyes and tilted your head, looking straight at him. “I know how much you hate being in this position, how you love when women come after you, when they get jealous of you. I know how much you enjoy the way Seulgi acts when I’m around you.”

Jungkook swallowed, trying to maintain his composure.

He was definitely not expecting that one, those details, that mention of Seulgi. You were playing to win while he was just having fun, it was time to turn the tide. 

The pair of piercing brown eyes were still looking at him, as if challenging him, as if begging him to fight back.

“For someone who didn’t want to be bothered by me that day in the cafeteria, you’ve been paying awfully a lot of attention to me.” One more step forward, the idea of depriving you of avenues of escape made him more confident.

Two steps forward, Jungkook brought your body into the fence that surrounded the sports court. He didn't touch you, but the pressure he put on you made you step back. Your breathing became audible, and your mouth parted, trying to control your anxiety.

You licked your lips, mustering up all the confidence you had to challenge him again. “Did you really think I would sleep with you without first arming myself against your schemes?”

An inaudible “oh” escaped him.

He had no way of knowing if you were telling the truth, if you were trying to disguise how much you paid attention to him, or if you had actually done a little “research” on him. However, he had to admit your qualities. You knew exactly how to get away with that kind of teasing. 

He liked the way you continued to amaze him, even if it was used against him.

Bracing one of his hands on the fence behind you, Jungkook leaned forward so that he was almost leveled with your face. A faint smile played on his lips. There was room for you to move away from him, but you remained still.

“You’re one of the smartest girls I’ve been with.” He confessed, closer to you.

He expected you to blush, to feel intimidated, even to curse him, but you looked at him with disdain.

“Should I feel praised?”

Bitter.

Finishing your sentence, Jungkook hurried to continue his. He didn't want to make room for you to feel comfortable. His other hand went to the fence, and the space between your bodies became ridiculously small. He could feel your hot breath hitting violently his cheeks. His eyes went straight to the slightly reddened lips in front of him.

Always beautiful.

“The smartest, dedicated, thoughtful girl I’ve been with.” He pressed his lips together, watching closely for your any small movement. “It even makes me feel a little bit better about giving in.”

The last part was definitely a lie. It was more likely to snow in hell than he admits that he'd be glad he'd given in before you. He knew his life with you would be easier if he would just admit that you had messed with him, that he had an interest in you, but that would force him to be vulnerable, to let his guard down, definitely something he had no interest in. Same as you.

Plus, it was almost his graduation year, he's gonna manage to maintain his reputation as a rake for a little longer. It was just patience. It wouldn’t be you who would ruin his entire legacy.

“Is that how you do with all of them?” The breath of your voice snapped him out of his little reverie.

Your breath was excessively hot and smelled faintly of mint. 

You had a small smile on the corner of your mouth, and your face was slightly tilted up. He was inches from your lips, one simple movement and he could end this argument.

“I don’t care about all of them.” He replied convincingly, even if he was a little confused. Were you referring to other girls? Could that be a hint of jealousy? He would like to think so.

Your voice instantly retorted him. “Do you always use this husky voice of yours, this heartthrob pose and this womanizing charm?” You licked your lips, and he couldn’t control his smirk.

Jungkook was still annoyed with you, even though you were there flirting with him, you still rejected him. However, he would never back down from one of his advances, at that moment, you were there with him, alone, restless, desirous, he would surely be able to handle the rest of “your” situation later.

“Is it working?” He asked and one of his hands went to your face.

You didn't even flinch when his thumb started to caress your cheek, didn't even try to pull away, no sound of complaint came out of your mouth. Instead, you moved your face a little to find the warmth of his hand.

Jungkook leaned his body further against yours, just enough to find physical contact.

“You can pretend you don’t feel anything for me, Y/N,” His thumb rubbed your lips, and he heard your gasp. “But we both know I’m the one who leaves you wet, who makes you shiver inside, just aching to be touched.”

Motherfucker.

Involuntarily his body rubbed against yours. That had been an asshole move of his, and he knew it. Embarrassing you like this in “public” wasn't his intention, but it was as if he needed it, he needed you to once feel dominated, the way you dominated him most of the time.

He could have thrown it in your face at any other time, but in a private place it wouldn't have the same effect. Any student or professor could walk by and see you both, and then it would be the famous Y/N falling under the spell of the stallion Jeon Jungkook.

With the contact of his finger on your lips, your mouth was slightly open. There was a small air of outrage, but what prevailed was desire.

“Son of a bitch.” You whispered in his lips. Your voice wasn't as steady as before.

His hand left the fence and cupped your face. 

Instinctively your hands gripped his wrists, not trying to restrain them, but surprised by the contact.

He chuckled. It was funny to see you uncertain, hesitant.

His thumbs pressed lightly against your chin, and now your lips were at the same height. Jungkook couldn't help but notice, for the hundredth time, how beautiful you were. With your face upturned, your dark locks fell further over your shoulders, your jaw was perfectly shaped, your lips were extremely soft under his previous touch, and your eyes were mesmerizing, flickering between his eyes and lips.

With a simple advance, Jungkook brushed his lips against yours. It wasn't exactly a kiss, it was subtle, tricky. When he met your mouth, his fingertips felt the tiny hairs on the back of your neck prickling.

“I forgot to mention, one of the prettiest too.”

Fuck. He’s gonna be the death of me.

Your lips parted, letting out a low moan. The small space was enough for Jungkook’s tongue to slide in to meet yours.

For a long moment he kept his hands on your face, holding you as if his life depended on it. Your hands loosened around his wrist, and Jungkook took advantage to advance further on you. Your body was now pressed against the fence, your tongue was lost between his lips.

Despite the limited space, your body shifted anxiously beneath his. One of his hands went to the back of your neck, and he could feel your lips curve into a small smile between your kisses.

When his lips finally left yours, his other hand traveled to your waist, gripping you and pulling you even closer to him. His mouth trailed kisses down your chin and down the length of your neck to the beginning of your collarbone.

“Jungkook.” Your voice cracked.

It wasn’t a groan, but a warning. He couldn’t tell if it had to do with the two of you or the people who might pass by. However, as soon as your hands wrapped around his neck, he preferred to believe that you weren't worried about what people would say if they saw you there.

As the grips on your waist intensified, your mouth innovated in new curses. Meanwhile, Jungkook's lips took advantage of your entire neck, with kisses, light bites. You were completely at his mercy and didn’t even make a move to stop him. 

In that small moment, in that corner of the college, you were entirely his.

His face rose back up to kiss you again when he found a goofy smile dancing over your lips. He didn't know if he should have seen it, it looked more like it was your own personal smile, one you only gave when he wasn't looking.

From that smile alone he could have sworn you were in love with him, but then he remembered your face when you'd rejected him in his kitchen.

Ignoring those thoughts that insisted on returning to the surface, Jungkook collided, with some violence, on your lips. Taste of you never ceased to be good, your body never ceased to be soft, and the moans that escaped during your kisses never ceased to be musical.

God, why did you have to be so frustrating? Why should you have rejected him? Why were you so good? So... sublime? So… made up for him? 

He knew he wouldn't make it. The thoughts were everywhere, haunting him every time he thought of you, every time he touched you. It was as if that moment in the kitchen had defined the relationship you would have forever, whether as fuck buddies or something else . He hated to think of the idea of having you as “something else”, but he hated even more the idea of not having you at all. Jungkook’s mind was a mess. He didn’t even know what he wanted.

His hand came down to your thigh, squeezing it tightly, he wasn't thinking straight. A desperate groan crept between his lips. You were panting loudly, your tongue trying to get lost between his to prevent louder sounds from coming out.

As soon as his hand went up to your inner thigh, seeking to find your core, a smug giggle followed by a light clap of hands interrupted him.

Fuck.

Your hands instantly left his neck and went to the shorts you were wearing, making sure there was nothing beyond the normal exposed. Your face heated up and you quickly turned around, hiding in the crook of Jungkook's neck.

Slowly, calculating every move, Jungkook released your body and turned to face the figure who was cheering both of you. He wore his most arrogant face, ready for anything. He could fight anyone, argue, accept punishment for breaking the college's code of decency, he could even have an argument with Seulgi if he had to, but he couldn't face the man who was standing in front of them with a shameless smile.

“So, is that what I pay you college for?” The voice was serious but light.

You have to be kidding me.

Jungkook took a deep breath, his body rigid. “Dad.”

Jungkook swallowed, feeling all the skin on his body prickling. God, of all the people he imagined might be there watching him and you, his father was the one he least imagined, and also the one he feared the most. Not because of his severity, – he was not scared of his dad – but because of his petulance.

Every cell in his body was practically begging for this to be a dream, for him to magically wake up and be in his house, alone.

Hearing the word “dad” come out of Jungkook's lips, made you slowly lift your frowning face, you seemed to gape. Your eyes frantically analyzed the whole scene, trying at all costs not to miss any detail of the two men in front of you.

It was quite a show for you.

“What- What are-” Jungkook stuttered.

Without even getting a chance to finish his sentence, Jun-Yeol interrupted him. “I'll give you two a moment to settle down.”

His voice was so calm. Terrifyingly calm. 

Jun-Yeol nodded cynically, moving a few feet away from where you and Jungkook were.

Jungkook blinked a few times, still hoping that this was a dream and that he wouldn't have to put up with his father in five minutes.

Slowly, delaying each move, he turned to face you. Without quite understanding why, a feeling of shame swept over him. He didn’t know if it was because his father had caught him in a “compromising” situation or because you were witnessing that scene.

When his eyes finally met yours, he was surprised. You weren't bothered or at least, you didn't seem to be judging him, you just looked a little embarrassed. Your cheeks were flushed, and your lips pressed together, holding back laughter.

“Well, that was… weird.” You sighed, defeated.

You seemed incredibly resilient. A small smile playing on your lips as your hands frantically untangled strands of your hair. On the other hand, Jungkook was a nervous wreck. Nothing there was comfortable or funny. His serious face contrasted with the serene face of the girl in front of him.

Jungkook took a deep breath, looking at you in disbelief. 

“I’m sorry.” His voice was low, almost a whisper. Jungkook was noticing that more and more the word “sorry” was appearing on his lips, and that realization was horrible.

Your eyes looked over Jungkook's shoulder at the figure of his father. You bit your lip trying to piece together a quick profile of the well-dressed man standing in the middle of a college campus. He didn’t look awful, didn’t look nasty, just strict. He looked impatient, and as you returned your eyes to Jungkook, you couldn't help but notice how incredibly similar he was to his father.

“It’s okay.” You tried to quickly reassure him, but it was in vain.

“No, it’s not.” He immediately responded angrily.

Jungkook felt his heart racing, a noisy headache was starting to bother him. He wanted to get you out of there, he didn't want you to have any more contact with his father, any more dialogue would ruin you, and he didn't want to take that risk. At this point, he was too considerate of you to make you submit to an unpleasant conversation with his father.

Slowly, he looked behind him, trying to figure out some way to get past his father without him stopping you both in your tracks, but his position was extremely strategic, making it impossible to slip through unnoticed.

“God.” He whispered to himself.

You stared at him determinedly. “Jungkook, it’s okay. Come on, just forget it.��

Giving one last check on the status of your clothes, you let out a long sigh and began your brisk walk towards Jun-Yeol. And before you could go even further, Jungkook reached out and grabbed you lightly by the waist, stopping you midway. He heard a sound of protest leaving your lips, but he couldn't even laugh at the situation.

“Wait. Wait. Wait…” He hurried. “Just…”

A long sigh escaped the depths of his lungs.

“Don’t– Don’t take anything he says personally.”

You frowned at him. God, his father must be the biggest asshole in the world.

“There’s nothing wrong with you.” He still had hope that you would give up on going to his father.

It wasn’t his intention to scare you, but he didn't want you to be taken by surprise when his father started dumping all his inconveniences on you. Jungkook had a very strange and unusual sense of protection over you.

You were still looking at him suspiciously. “Okay… Shall we?”

And there went another moment of you being the coldest, most passive person in the world and scaring him as usual. 

He raised an eyebrow at you, trying to disguise his mood. If you were so calm maybe it would be better not to infect you with his pessimism.

Feeling extremely defeated, Jungkook walked after you. It was a mixture of defeat and bad luck, he couldn't believe his father had actually shown up to college, and on the day he was with you. He could have seen him with anyone but you.

It was only a few feet away, but they were extremely torturous feet.

As you approached, his father had his back turned, he seemed to be entertained by something he had seen in the courtyard. Delaying each moment, Jungkook cleared his throat slowly, drawing his attention.

“Dad.” Jungkook nodded.

“Oh.” Jun-Yeol turned away in a slightly more malleable mood. “Jungkook! There you are! Much more presentable.”

Quickly his father's arms wrapped him in a hug, startling him. He was expecting to receive a scolding, a scowl, even a curse, but his father, one of the most insensitive men he'd ever met, was hugging him.

He thought maybe he wanted to impress you, pretend he was a good father, but considering the situation he'd caught the two of them in, it didn't make sense to keep the polite line around you.

Then he thought he was being sarcastic and teasing him, as if he knew he couldn’t be rude with him in front of you.

Many theories circulated in his head while his father ceased the hug.

“I was waiting you’d return my phone calls with any kind of news, but since you didn’t call me back, I came to pick up the news in person.” Jun-Yeol said in a teasing tone.

Jungkook mentally scoffed. There he was, the nasty, sneaky figure of his father.

“I’ve been busy.” Jungkook replied monosyllabically.

His father let out a weak laugh as he regarded him with a certain degree of disdain. “I could see it. Very busy indeed.”

Two minutes in his presence and Jungkook already felt suffocated. A lot of sarcastic answers came to his mind, but he didn't want to cause an unnecessary misunderstanding at the very beginning of the conversation, especially with you being there.

“Dad, this is Y/N. A friend of mine.” He pointed at you, who maintained a calm expression.

“Friend? Is that what you young people call it these days?” His reply came quickly and in a disapproving tone. 

Jun-Yeol turned to greet you. Jungkook watched the scene with some surprise. You were a lot like his father when it came to not giving in. You were both very stubborn, so watching you maintain a confident expression in the face of the unyielding figure who was his father was charming.

“Y/N?” He wondered. His fingers were pointed up just like a true politician, his face was confident, and he wore a smug smile. “You’re not…”, he turned slightly to Jungkook. “What was her name again? Your other girlfriend? Seungi, Sungi?”

Instinctively, you parted your lips, your eyes were widened, and your vision met Jungkook’s. It was not your intention to demonstrate that the information somehow “shocked” you. All this time teasing him that Seulgi was his girlfriend, even though you didn’t really believe it, for his father to say it like it was the most well-known truth in the world.

These are the kind of things that made hard to believe the words that came out of Jungkook at his house the other day. But then again, you weren’t an idiot, clearly his father really likes to get under his son’s skin.

Not so suddenly, the air seemed to be sucked from Jungkook’s nostrils. His body stiffened; his posture straightened. How he hated this behavior, this kind of little game that his dad loved, he could have asked that later, of course he could, but he had this need to embarrass him.

Hesitantly and with an irritated face, Jungkook raised his voice just enough for his father to hear. “Seulgi. And she was not my girlfriend.”

“Of course.” He mocked. “Nice to meet you, Y/N.” 

Jun-Yeol subtly stole your left hand for himself and placed a quick kiss on your knuckles.

“Likewise, Sir.” You were quick to respond.

“Oh, don’t make me feel old. You can call me Jun-Yeol, please.” 

“Jun-Yeol.” You nodded, repeating the name on your lips, testing it.

He raised an eyebrow at his son. “Even more polite, beautiful. What a nice upgrade, son.”

An annoyed sigh escaped Jungkook's lips, and he glanced over his brow at you. You both exchanged a slight smile, and Jungkook was once again surprised by your coldness. You’d just been caught in a less than ideal situation for a college, the man in front of you had just “confused” you for Seulgi and was being a complete idiot, and you still stood your ground.

As soon as he let go of your hand, Jun-Yeol hurried on, not giving Jungkook room to end with that torture soon. “Anyway, I was here thinking about taking the two of you out for lunch.”

Jungkook scoffed to himself in disbelief. 

Immediately he turned to you, moving even closer to you. “Oh, I’m afraid Y/N has class now, right?”

Looking at you, Jungkook was met with a priceless reaction. You were still looked self-assured, but there was an indecision present in your next action, which caused your entire body to behave in a way he had never seen before. 

You could easily see that Jungkook hated being in the presence of his dad, he was so uncomfortable. Maybe if you were to accept that lunch, his dad wouldn’t have much chance to bother his son, at least not this time around. Wait, why do you even care?

Your eyes were still slightly wide from his father's mention of Seulgi, your lips pressed together tightly, your hands began to rub together anxiously, and the air you were breathing in felt heavy, so loud was the sound coming out of your nostrils.

You were undecided. Even late, you could still get into second class if you wanted to, but something about you showed that you were curious to find out more about his father and have lunch with the two of them together.

“I think it’s okay... I’m... already late. I can- can skip it.”

Lie. 

Why were you lying? You hated skipping classes, you'd talked about it before, seen it. Jungkook wanted to question you right there, but that would put even more pressure on you. He didn't need an answer, but he wanted one.

Before he could even persuade you to drop the idea, his father intervened.

“Marvelous. I'll be waiting for you two at that restaurant near your house, son.”

You smiled politely at his father.

His voice was so convincing, irritating, that Jungkook had to struggle not to roll his eyes right there in front of him.

Lately, God and all the celestial stars had been testing his patience. It wouldn’t be a lie if he said that since he’d crossed paths with you, his life had been extremely turmoil, and not always in a good way. 

It seemed that everything about you tormented him: you had met just about every important person in his life, his friends were now your friends, and all his thoughts had your name, your scent, your texture.

Jungkook pursed his lips, holding back every curse that came to mind.

He approached you, feeling defeated. “You don’t have to go.”

“You don’t want me to go?” You took a step forward with a smile.

“Well…” He rebuked. “You just saw it for yourself. Do you really. want to go through this?”

He really cared about your well-being, didn’t want you to spend too much time in his father’s company, hated the idea of you becoming intimate with him, it was dangerous, toxic. Even he couldn’t handle his father himself.

At those specific moments Jungkook missed his mother even more. He hadn’t met her, but he was sure his father would be a more tolerable person if she were still here. From the things he tells him, she was an amazing human being.

“He’s certainly something.” You said wryly, snapping him out of his thoughts. “Trust me, it will be over sooner than you think.”

Jungkook smiled as he watched your mock. You were so carefree he could barely remember why you were arguing ten minutes ago. 

That was your problem. You fought, had sex, then fought again, then got together, it was a vicious cycle, an unhealthy cycle, he was aware of that. Both of you were aware. It wasn’t supposed to get this complicated. 

He could say that he enjoyed it, but more and more he felt incapable, weak within this cycle. Seeing you there having fun was good, it made him feel light, made him believe that things in life could be good. However, when he remembered that you had “rejected” him, everything went gray, his mood brutally declined, it wasn’t supposed to be like this, it was just a rejection.

He was feeling a sense of anticipation, realization. 

It was weird, new, he had never been in love with anyone. Not that he was now. Well, he didn’t know how that feeling acted on the human body, didn’t even know if what he was feeling was love. He felt good when he was with you, and he hated to think that you most likely didn’t feel the same way. It was hard to decipher whatever was going through your mind.

And it wasn’t something to think about now.

“Shall we?” You said, already walking towards the parking lot.

Like an obedient servant, he followed you in silence, not daring to challenge you anymore.

The drive to the restaurant was smooth, calm, certainly different from the conversational tone he and you had been having a few minutes ago. When Jungkook parked in front of the place, his eyes caught the figure of his father seated at the first table of the restaurant, right at the entrance. He quickly turned away to look at you, who offered him a knowing smile.

Jungkook felt his breath hitch, his throat itched.

God, this was going to be the longest lunch of his life.

“Are there any topics I shouldn’t bring up?” You said as you walked to the table.

A wry laugh escaped his lips. “Don’t worry. He will speak for you.”

It was kinda cute that you were worried about what to say to his father, as if he wasn’t the most unpleasant person you’d ever met. In this you were certainly better than Seulgi. He remembered when his father had caught him in bed with her, under those very circumstances: invading his personal space without any fuss.

Slowly, he realized that this situation could have been much worse. He could have shown up at his house when you were there, or in the library. Heaven forbid, there were so many worst-case scenarios that Jungkook was starting to feel slightly better.

“Still driving at that slow pace, son?”

These were Jun-Yeol’s first words when he saw Jungkook coming to the table.

“Yep.” He responded by sitting up, ignoring the sarcasm.

He would be superior, he would not discuss useless things, he would not fall for his trials. On the brief walk to the table, he’d decided he’d be better than his father, at least once in his life. There was nothing that would take away his peace, nothing.

He could try to get him into an argument, but Jungkook was willing to win this lunch.

Sitting beside him, with you in front of him, Jungkook stretched out his legs to meet yours under the table. 

He saw you hold back a laugh and for a moment allowed himself to relax.

“I think we should already order. Has Jungkook brought you here before, Y/N?” Jun-Yeol’s eyes were fixed on the menu, and before you could even formulate a response, his voice dropped to cruelty. “Oh, no, I confused you with Seulgi again. My apologies.”

My God, this man is really a snake. Now you get why Jungkook told you before not to take anything his dad says personally.

Jungkook turned quickly to him, swallowing hard. “Dad.” 

He scolded him on the spot. However, his father's carefree expression didn’t reassure him about the rest of lunch. He didn’t know if his father was testing him or if it had been an unintentional slip-up.

“It’s okay.” You tilted your head slightly, your gaze flicking between Jungkook and his father. You cleared your throat, and continued with a smile that Jungkook could have sworn was one of the fakest he’d ever seen. “I’ve never been here, but I think this Caesar salad looks pretty good.”

Jun-Yeol choked in false surprise. “Oh, you even have good taste in food. How you got it right this time, Jungkook!”

A unison of laughter formed at the table and Jungkook couldn’t help but roll his eyes this time. 

It irritated him the way he spoke, as if he and Seulgi had been interacting for hours and he’d really gotten to know her. He’d seen her in bed with him, then had a quick breakfast in his kitchen, nothing more.

Yes, he knew you were infinitely better than Seulgi, it was obvious. You had everything, you were beautiful, intelligent, and appeared to be a much kinder human being. But all that mention of Seulgi, comparing them, made him more and more anxious.

Without even looking at his son, Jun-Yeol held up one of his hands, excitedly calling for a waiter to serve him.

“I’d like two Caesar salads, please. And…, Jungkook?”

“A burger, please.” His voice was as low as a breath.

Hearing a long, disappointed sigh from his father, Jungkook and you looked at each other.

Really? He can’t even choose a food without his father judging him.

You were biting your lips with a certain violence; your eyebrows were slightly arched. You looked so understanding there, your eyes seemed to sink into his thoughts, it was as if at any moment you could start to speak what was on his mind.

Once again, he saw how superior you were to him. You were dealing with all that bullshit a lot more resiliently than he was. You didn’t seem nervous, intimidated, much less bothered by his father’s conversation, although he imagined you were, you were just too good at hiding it.

You smoothed his leg with yours under the table, catching his attention again. “U okay?” You whispered, almost incomprehensible.

He nodded slightly at you. There was no reason to tell the truth at that moment.

“So, Y/N, what do you study?” Jun-Yeol called out, startling you.

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see that Jungkook had leaned back in his chair, wanting to ignore all the dialogue that was about to ensue.

“Classical Literature.” Your tone was so excited that you even looked surprised at yourself.

Jungkook smiled to see you speak so proudly.

“Oh, that’s amazing. It is definitely an interesting degree.”

“I love it! It kind of brings together all the things I like, literature, myths, and a little bit of teaching.” Your voice was strangely high-pitched.

“Teaching?” Jun-Yeol leaned across the table, showing interest. “Do you plan to be a teacher?”

At that moment, Jungkook leaned back slightly from his chair. It was a topic that even he wasn’t aware of, and for various reasons he still couldn’t explain to himself, he was interested in your future plans.

“I think so. I- I don’t know, I haven’t given it much thought, but it would be nice.”

Your eyes strayed to Jungkook, who was raising his eyebrows, just waiting for you to look at him.

“You would make a great teacher.” He confessed, smiling.

Your eyes narrowed as a smile filled almost the entire lower part of your face. You were genuinely happy for the compliment, and Jungkook was finding it quite a show to watch you happy. There you were, not the Y/N who had rejected him, who was playing games with him, you were just Y/N, a happy, beautiful, girl.

“Thank you…”

Before he could even relax into his chair again, another topic he also knew almost nothing about came up.

“And you were born here in Seoul?” Jun-Yeol amended.

Before answering him, you arched an eyebrow at Jungkook, making a point of showing that you had sensed his interest in the conversation. “No, I’m actually from Y/C/N.”

He watched, waiting for you to break eye contact first. Luckily for him, his father’s words caught your attention.

“Y/C/N.” He tested the word. “I heard it’s a great place to live too.”

By the end of that sentence, Jungkook couldn’t hold back the laughter that rose in his chest. It was as if he was considering whether that country would be a good place for his son to live with you.

It was pathetic, and funny.

The waiter interrupted you with a three-course tray, and Jungkook mentally thanked for the speed of the establishment. The faster you ate, the faster this torture would end, and he could walk away. He knew he would have to face his father at some point, as he always did, but at least you wouldn’t have to go through more shit.

“Did your parents move here too?” 

You choked, putting your cutlery down. Immediately, Jungkook looked at you, your eyes were slightly wide, your mouth was slightly open. For the first time since the moment this encounter had begun, you looked unsure.

He remembered that the last time you both “talked” about this subject, you had briefly mentioned that you hadn’t grown up with your parents. You had no reason for that topic to make you so nervous. Or at least that was what Jungkook thought.

These were the kind of conversations that you always avoided. There were really few people that you would open up to. It wasn’t like there was something to hide – although there was one thing that you didn’t tell Jungkook last time you talked about your family -, you just didn’t like sharing some of your personal matters.

You weren’t used to it and you had armed yourself for quite some time to avoid attaching to people, it wasn’t going to be easy for you to put your guard down and start spilling all your life to anyone.

Your loud breathing took over the table. “Ah, no... Ehr... I grew up in Seoul with my aunt, and my mother– she… stayed in Y/C/N.”

So far, the details Jungkook knew about your parents matched what you had told him. Nothing new. But he wanted to understand the reason for your nervousness, your face was serious, even your posture had stiffened.

“And your father?” Jun-Yeol continued his interrogation.

And that’s when he finally managed to understand.

You craned your neck, smiling nervously. “Ah… he died. I– I actually… didn’t meet him.”

Jungkook wished he had better disguised his reaction when he finished listening to the words that came out of your mouth. He was feeling, somehow, betrayed. He knew it was a selfish feeling to feel, that it wasn’t his right to feel this way, but a strange sense of bitterness filled him.

This wasn’t the way he’d expected to know this sort of thing, you could have talked it over with him, or at least mentioned it. Did you not trust him enough to open up about this topic?

He never wanted to go into details about his mother because he didn’t feel comfortable, but in the few moments when the subject came up, his body practically begged him to open up. It was a sense of urgency that always felt right, like you were the right person to listen to him.

The fact that you had never commented anything about your father, not a single mention, made him feel uncomfortable, insufficient. He expected you to feel like he did, tempted to open up, to be vulnerable, but you, on the contrary, never showed any kind of weakness in the matter. You were so good hiding your feelings. He never suspected that one of your parents had died.

That topic was, most likely, the most common thing you both had together. The frailty, growing up without a father/mother figure, all the agony during the commemorative dates, you could have shared so much together. You could have spent hours talking about it, helping each other, healing each other. 

God, how betrayed he felt. Even when it was selfish of him to expect for you to open up to something this deep for you, he couldn’t help to feel once again that he wasn’t enough. Ugh, the insecurities were playing with his mind.

Jungkook forced himself to swallow the bite of snack stuck in his mouth. He needed to force himself to look away, to act casual, but he just couldn’t. His body was restless in the chair, and the noise his movements made practically announced his discomfort.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” His father said casually. “You’re just like Jungkook, but with his mother, of course.”

Immediately, Jungkook thought he was in hell, he just hadn’t been formally warned of it.

You remained silent but your eyes were restless. They couldn’t keep their focus on one thing, wavering between his father, the salad in front of you, and him. You looked at him with compassion, as if he were a stray dog, it was a terribly disturbing look to him.

He hated to think that you were feeling sorry for him.

“Haerin was an amazing woman, she would have loved to meet you.” Jun-Yeol continued.

“Can we not talk about this?” His voice came out loud, startling the man beside him.

Jun-Yeol chuckled weakly, his self-centered posture did not allow him to face his son. Instead, he leaned his elbows on the table, and bent his head to get closer to you. “Well, truth be told, she’d love to receive you at home with a big lunch or dinner. And the two of you would definitely talk about literature, she loved to read.”

A loud scoff escaped Jungkook’s lips. He looked up at his father. “Please.”

You swallowed hard watching the scene. It was one of the first times you’d seen Jungkook say a “please” so pleadingly and not just out of politeness. You saw his jaw clench, and his fingers tightened even further on the snack in his hand.

“What’s the matter, Jungkook? People die, we get over it and we keep living with it.” His father snapped back angrily.

Keep living with it? Sounds quite insensitive for me.

You curled up in your chair, were about to witness a real fight between Jeon Jungkook and his father. It wasn’t something you were expecting to happen, but it was definitely something you were curious about.

“I’m begging you.” One of Jungkook’s fists hit the table almost unintentionally.

Jun-Yeol leaned back in his chair, slovenly. “Okay, that’s fine. But don’t pretend you are respecting her memory.” His tone was assured, utterly provocative. “Or what? Do you think she’s proud of you now? The way you’ve been acting?”

An inaudible “oh” escaped your lips as your eyes widened.

This is so fucked up.

Jungkook stood up abruptly, pushing the chair away. “That’s enough.”

His body stiffened, his posture was painfully straight, and his fists were clenched. You stared at him scared and could have sworn that if that wasn’t his own father, they would be grappling on the floor.

It was a Jungkook you’d never seen, not even when he’d quarreled with Jimin. The vein in his neck was standing out, flashy, and you could see the effort it was taking for him to rebel against his father.

“Jungkook, sit down.” Jun-Yeol said slowly, not as a threat, but as an order.

You saw his body bow slightly, as if Jun-Yeol’s words had real control over his actions. Jungkook’s face contorted in something akin to pain. He was trying hard not to sit down.

He gasped loudly and finally snapped out of that kind of trance that had left him almost paralyzed. His feet moved off the table, and his eyes searched desperately for your figure.

“Shall we? I can take you home now.” 

You knew it wasn’t a suggestion; it was a plea.

Again, your eyes darted frantically to the two men in front of you. Jun-Yeol kept a calm expression, as if he knew he was bothering his son, that he was in control of the situation; and Jungkook had his brows arched, practically kneeling for you to get up and follow him.

You choked, dropping the silverware next to the rest of your salad. In your mind your movements had been faster, but it took you a long time to get to your feet and finally nod at Jungkook’s request.

“I’ll see you at your home. And it was a pleasure to meet you, Y/N.” Jun-Yeol’s voice echoed in the back of his mind.

Jungkook saw your lips tighten in an attempt to answer a simple “likewise”, but no sound came out. So, you simply nodded at him with a small smile on your lips.

When his feet finally stepped outside the restaurant, Jungkook allowed himself to take a deep breath without guilt for the first time since meeting his father. He could hear your hurried footsteps beside him as you tried to keep up with him.

“I can take you to eat somewhere else if you’re still hungry.” He said low.

“I’m fine.”

He didn’t dare look at you. He was feeling embarrassed after that “scene�� with his father.

When he got into the car, his hands were shaking, and his feet took a while to grip the pedals. His breathing was loud, and to his unhappiness, you were completely silent, making the sounds of his nervous body stand out even more.

“Are you okay?” You finally spoke, your voice now music to his ears.

He avoided answering you. He was far from “okay”, and he was sure his voice would fail the moment he decided to start talking. The silence lasted a long time, but not long enough to reach your apartment.

“Jungkook,” You placed one of your hands just above his knee.

His body stiffened and he cursed himself for it, because you sure as hell had noticed. The air seemed to have been sucked out of his breath. You wanted him to look at you, you weren’t going to continue your sentence if he didn’t look at you, but still he kept his eyes fixed on the street in front of you.

When he parked in front of your building, he didn’t wait for you to say goodbye. Immediately, he got out of the car, seeing you get slightly confused.

You got out of the car and looked at him smiling. “What are you doing?”

“Taking you home.” His answer came out humorously.

Amazing how your presence alone did him good, even with all the arguments you had, you had this power to bring out the best in him. He was still a nervous wreck over his father, but a little time alone with you already made him light, light in a way that even worried him.

“You don’t have to.” You laughed, heading towards him.

“I insist.”

The elevator ride to your floor was complete silence. Leaning against opposite walls, you faced each other, competing for who had the worst grin on their face. Being in such a small, closed cubicle with you was a nightmare for Jungkook. The scent of your perfume filled the entire space, and he felt even more helpless around you.

As the doors opened on the seventh floor, he mentally thanked God.

“Seventy six?” He took a chance.

“Seven.” You teased. “Did you come all this way just to find out which apartment I live in?”

You approached the door but made no move to open it. You leaned against the doorframe, pursing your lips while staring at him. You stared at each other for a long time in silence, as if talking mentally. Your face showed resilience while his showed a mixture of confusion and regret.

Jungkook braced a hand against the door. “I’m so sorry.” His voice came out weak, not as confident as he wished.

What is he apologizing for?

You opened your mouth in mild astonishment. “You are not your father, Jungkook. You don’t need to apologize to me.”

“No, it’s not just about that.” He promptly replied, almost interrupting you. “Earlier, I was not– I…– that wasn’t very manly of me.”

He was referring to the scene before his father interrupted you in college.

A little scoff escaped your lips. You didn’t seem to believe he was apologizing for that.

“It was a line we crossed together. I kissed you back, didn’t I?” You had a smug little smile on your face, your head tilted slightly next to his outstretched arm.

Always superior to him.

Jungkook let out a long weary sigh. He was feeling more and more lost about you, his head hurt just thinking about getting home and talking to his father, college seemed interminable, and he felt more distant from his friends, he was living a horrible period.

“I hope you know you are better than the things he says.” You said softly.

“Am I?” His face came slightly closer to yours.

When he saw you nod, he couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at the corner of his lips.

Might be the first time he hears a compliment coming out of your mouth and he’s enjoying it so much. His body was still for a while, his eyes studying your face. You were really one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen, and he couldn’t tell if it was just your looks, or if your mature demeanor influenced that view.

More and more he understood you less, he thought that with time he would be able to decipher you, read you, but things became more confused, nebulous. You had said you were with him for the sex, but all your kindness with him at times when you didn't need to be kind left him questioning whether or not you cared for him.

One thing he had realized, had been almost forced to realize: he liked you.

He felt good with you, craved your company. In college he looked for your face, even if it was just for you to curse at him; at home he missed the way you just fit into his bed; parties had lost interest because he wasn't looking for someone anymore, he kind of already had someone.

“Jungkook–” Your voice woke him.

“You’re not gonna invite me in?” He cut you, roughly.

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⏤ author's note❧ FYI, the "Y/C/N acronym stands for 'Your Country Name'. Long chapter once again! 😄 Sorry for making you wait for updates guys, I really want to make this story worthy so I might take some more time to write the next few chapters in order to do that so. Please, don't hesitate on leaving your feedback, reblog, send me asks, whatever you'd like. I absolute love reading your comments 💜🥰

⏤ tag list❧ @chimsworldsstuff @erica2283 @ahgasegotarmy116 @whoa-jo

[stonecoldholly]

Worldwalker: Chapter 8

Summary - After witnessing a ritual at a pagan festival in her hometown, Sam suddenly finds herself in a world where magic exists and dangers far worse than everyday crime lurk around every corner. Accepting her unfortunate situation is one challenge; trusting these otherworldly beings to help her is another. As she uncovers the truth, she often finds that it leads to more trouble than it’s worth. Sam must navigate this new world, find her way back home, and restart her life.

Warnings - Negative thinking, suggestive language, cursing

Word Count - 8.3k

A/N - Azriel seems to have a problem with Sam, but won't say anything. Sam meets Eris Vanserra and things get...interesting. The journey to the House of Wind begins.

AO3 Link

“Maybe I'm foolish, maybe I'm blind.

Thinkin' I can see through this and see what's behind.

Got no way to prove it, so maybe I'm lyin'.

But I'm only human, after all. I'm only human, after all.

Don't put your blame on me."

Human – Rag’n’Bone Man

Night Court, Prythian

Sam lay in her bed as the sun broke the horizon. The golden rays of the rising sun attempted to pierce her still-closed curtains and chase away the darkness that encased the bedroom, but Sam couldn't find it within herself to allow them to pour in.

Her restless sleep left her feeling worn down, emotional, and disheartened. She had a great night talking with Lucien over dinner and faerie wine, laughing, joking, and connecting. She had strengthened her bond with Lucien even more, and as she learned more about him, her loyalty to him became unbreakable. A nagging feeling continued to chew at her, and she felt guilty for having a good time, given her circumstances.

She wanted to go home; that was her mission: find a way back home. But with the friendships she was creating, nurturing, and building, returning to her planet would be painful. Even now, if she were to go home tomorrow, her heart would shatter. She would miss Lucien, Azriel, Cassian, Feyre, Rhys…

The emotions became too much, and she spent half the morning in tears, her face buried in her pillow to suffocate her sobs. The weight on her from the stress she was enduring, albeit decently and of her own creation, was only becoming more and more unbearable as the days passed. Either she created bonds that left her heartbroken or pushed others away and did it alone. She knew she was out of her league and needed help, so creating bonds was what she had to do.

But it didn’t make it any easier.

She heard Lucien awake and rustling around the house and decided it was time to shove her feelings back down into the box she had created inside of herself. She was a strong woman, but she felt like she was presenting herself as weak with the constant crying and grieving she was wallowing in. She tried to tell herself that anyone in her position would do the same, but she couldn't convince herself. How many people had been in her position?

She took a quick shower and dressed in her go-to black leggings and a deep purple shirt, pulling her long, curly hair into a messy bun on top of her head. She looked at herself in the mirror, studying her face, which finally resembled the reflection she knew so well. Her cheeks regained their dusty pink hue, and her complexion (while splotchy from crying) was even once again, the little cuts from the forest having healed and faded away. Her favorite feature, her green eyes, were glossy from previous tears but had brightened considerably. Prythian seemed to agree with her.

As she went to the kitchen to start breakfast, her thoughts continued to push through. No matter how hard she tried to shove them away, they demanded that she process them. Her constant habit of pushing thoughts aside had a tendency to explode at the wrong time. She knew that but also didn't know when the right time to "process them" would be, hoping that later would be a better opportunity.

Instead, she used cooking as her personal time to process her thoughts and talk herself into or out of things. So, as she grabbed the ingredients she needed to make breakfast, she began to get lost in her own little world, turning up the heat for the sausage patties and bacon to start sizzling.

‘You have to stop being so emotional.’ She kneaded the dough on the floured surface, listening to that voice in her head.

'Why are you trying so hard to be friends when you will be leaving soon?'

‘Do you even want to leave? You’ve done nothing. You’ve gotten drunk and made friends. That’s not usually what someone does when they want to go home.’ The kneading got rougher, Sam throwing her entire upper body weight into the biscuit dough. Short grunts escaped her lips as she pictured the dough as a frustration outlet.

‘You’re doing too much. You’re trying too hard to be liked.’

‘Focus on research, on your friends back home. Don’t you miss them? Or do you not consider Melissa and Josh worthy of an explanation of what happened to you?’ Sam had begun rolling out the dough, her arms shaking with the strength she exuded on the rolling pin. Her breath stuttered at Mel and Josh's names before she picked up the rolling again with renewed vigor.

‘Have you replaced them with your ‘friends’ here?’

‘Are you considering this place your home now? Have you taken the renouncing of your homeland literally?’

Sam growled at her negative thoughts, using a glass to cut the biscuits out. They were so damn conflicting. Was she doing too much or not doing enough? Which one was it? Why was her mind her biggest enemy? Why did she continue to listen to it?

She slammed the door to the oven closed, whirling around to snarl to herself before another vicious thought could pass through.

“What if I want to be liked? Why is that so bad?” Sam asked herself out loud, grumbling as she scooped the sausage patties out of the pan first and then stirred the flour into the crumbled bits of cooked sausage. “And so fucking what if I got drunk for one night? I'm a human being; I'm allowed to have a damn drink.”

Sam thought she may have a mimosa to spite her thoughts this morning. She grabbed the cooked bacon from another pan and plated it on the same plate as the extra sausage patties.

“I do consider these people my friends. How can I not? Of course, I want to go home. Of course, I miss Mel and Josh, but they can't help me here, can they? No, because they aren’t fucking here. I am. I am here, and I will do what I have to to get back home, and if I make friends along the way, then you can suck my dick because what’s so bad about that?”

Sam poured the milk into the sausage rue she had made, stirring until it thickened. She was making a breakfast that always brought comfort to her growing up. A breakfast that always seemed to chase away all the problems in the world for a brief moment. Sam hoped it would do the same this time, too.

“And another thing, I’m allowed to make friends. I’m allowed to care. That's my humanity, and it's not a weakness. It’s a strength to care for someone, for others. So what if it hurts when I leave? At least it will hurt knowing that I cared, that I made a difference. So fuck right off.” She spat angrily at herself once again.

If anyone had walked into the kitchen, Sam wondered if they would fear for her sanity. Unfortunately, she did this quite often—arguing out loud with herself. If she heard the words out loud, it seemed to quiet her mind down, perhaps because her voice inside her head and her spoken voice sounded different. She wasn't sure, but it seemed to trick her mind into thinking someone else was talking to her.

With her mind primarily quiet, she finished making the food, pulling the biscuits out of the oven and plating them. She hoped her anger hadn't transferred into making the food, but she was sure it would still taste good if it did. She cleaned up what she could before layering the plates of food on her arms and backing through the door that connected the kitchen to the dining room.

“Lucien! Breakfast!" Sam called out, spinning around with the plates in her hands with practiced ease. Two plates loaded with biscuits and sausage gravy balanced on her left forearm, and a plate filled with homemade biscuits in her hand. In her right hand, sausage patties and bacon piled on the dish, the equivalent of a small mountain of food.

Lucien entered the dining room, took the two identical plates off her arm, and set them on the table. "Cauldron, Sam, you could have burnt your arm.”

Sam waved it off once she set the remaining two plates before them. "I worked in a diner back home; that ain't nothin'."

Lucien handed her a cup of coffee and sat across from her. Sam smiled at the gesture, which only solidified her internal/external argument with herself. Yes, she was allowed to make friends. “You don’t have to keep cooking for me, you know.”

Sam shrugged, sipping her coffee, allowing the bitter flavor to coat her tongue. "I assure you, I will not do anything I don't want to do. I want to cook…" Sam looked down at her plate. "Makes me feel like I'm contributing instead of just...leeching off of Rhysand, Feyre, and all ya'll."

Lucien pinched his eyebrows together, frowning down at his food. “You’re not leeching, Sam. Don’t think like that.”

Sam reluctantly nodded, even though she felt the opposite. She was beginning to feel like a burden, a thorn in their sides. Living in Rhysand and Feyre's houses free of charge and using their money, Sam wasn't contributing anything to the household in return. She didn't know how the currency worked, and she didn't know much about the country she was in or its laws or regulations. They had given her citizenship without thinking twice about it, and she knew nothing.

Sam had begun feeling unworthy of it all. Just another bullet in the gun for her negative thoughts.

“This is biscuits and gravy, a Southern staple of breakfast foods.” Sam offered before the voice in her head could sound off. “This is the type of breakfast that fills your soul with that 'home' feelin'. It's fillin’, delicious, and one of the best things that's ever come outta the South...not countin' sweet tea, now."

Lucien cut into the biscuit buried under the sausage gravy, a look of apprehension gracing his features. Sam would admit that sometimes the gravy didn't look appetizing, but when made just right, it would ignite your taste buds and fill you with love. Anyone could make biscuits and sausage gravy, but only a few could make Southern biscuits and gravy—a distinct difference.

“...You keep cooking like this, and I won't let you go back home. Once Rhysand and Cassian try this, you'll have difficulty convincing them that returning to your world is a good idea." Lucien told her as he cut another piece of biscuit, scooping up some extra sausage to accompany the bite.

Sam laughed, a smile blossoming across her face as they shared breakfast. While Sam attempted to beat down the guilt that gnawed inside her, she appreciated Lucien's words.

"I believe I heard my name." A booming voice sounded from the kitchen doorway, a tall shadow blocking the light.

Sam looked up and gasped in surprise, a smile breaking across her lips. “Cassian! You’re back!” she exclaimed, jumping up to greet him with a hug.

He hugged her back, looking her over before turning to the amount of food on the table. “And what do we have here?”

“Biscuits and gravy.” Lucien answered as he cut another bite, hardly pausing with enough time to answer Cassian, let alone breathe.

“You hungry? You want some? Where’s Azriel? Have y’all eaten?” Sam rapidly fired the questions as she stepped aside so he could walk further into the room, being mindful of his wings.

Cassian motioned behind him, “He’s landing now. I believe we will both take a plate, Sammi.”

Sam nodded and disappeared to the kitchen to grab their silverware and plates. A sense of relief settled into her at the sight of Cassian. She hadn't realized she had been anxious about their absence until they had reappeared. Granted, it had been over a day since they left, but she had subconsciously grown concerned for them when they didn't arrive back at the townhouse. She felt anxiety release its hold on her as she heard another chair scrape along the floor, signaling Azriel's arrival.

Sam reappeared from the kitchen, walking into the dining room to see Cassian and Azriel had taken their seats. Cassian sat at the head of the table, and Azriel took the seat next to Sam's spot. Sam moved around the chairs, setting Cassian's plate down and Azriel's in front of him. Azriel looked at the food and then at her; a flicker of surprise flashed across his face before it returned to its neutral, closed-off expression.

"Welcome back, Az. Did everything turn out alrigh'? " she asked, sitting back down in her seat next to Azriel. She faced him, checking him over for any injuries. His shadows reached out to her, circling her fingers and wrists in greeting. Their movements were frantic initially but settled down the longer they circled her skin. They retreated to Azriel, curling around his ear, and he reached for his silverware, looking at her briefly.

Azriel was content with nodding in response to her, but Cassian answered her question verbally: "We ran into a slight problem with Eris."

“Eris? Your brother?” Sam asked as she turned to look at Lucien. She saw Azriel stiffen out of the corner of her eye.

Lucien sighed, momentarily looking down at his plate before looking up at Cassian, "What kind of problem?"

“The kind where he’s a pain in the ass and demands to meet Sam.” Cassian replied, cutting into the biscuit and taking an extra piece of sausage from the plate in the middle of the table.

“No.” Lucien responded immediately, shaking his head and stabbing a piece of biscuit with his fork.

“We don’t get a say, Lucien,” Cassian said, glancing at Azriel and Sam before turning back to Lucien, who had a tight expression. "Rhysand's hands are tied. Eris has the right to investigate what happened on his lands." He took a bite of the biscuits and gravy, chewing for a moment before turning to look at Sam. "Every day, Sammi. Every single day, you have to make this."

Sam snorted, chewing her own bite. "You haven't even tried my French toast yet."

"You should have been here for the cheeseburgers she made last night," Lucien added, his voice carrying a tone of wonder.

“When am I supposed to meet Eris?" Sam asked Cassian, who had shoveled more food into his mouth.

“In a few hours, Eris is speaking to Rhys and Feyre. Rhys is trying to do damage control as best he can. We'll go to the River House and finally get you to the House of Wind afterward."

The table went silent as they ate their breakfasts, digesting the information as they chewed. That sense of guilt rose up again with renewed fire. A carefully laid paper trail and crafted plan had already been blown to shit, loopholes had been exploited, and more people had become involved in what should have been a well-kept secret.

It was all her fault.

“Sam.”

Her eyes snapped up to Lucien, who was looking at her knowingly. His gaze softened, and he gave her a slight, reassuring nod. Sam knew he was telling her to stop belittling herself, but it was hard knowing that the two Illyrians had just returned from a mission that concerned her, and now Rhysand and Feyre were dealing with the aftermath of something she did.

“Eris can be…” Cassian paused to find the right words.

“Intense? Infuriating? Demeaning? Violent? An asshole?” Lucien supplied helpfully to Cassian.

“...You said it," Cassian replied, stealing another biscuit from the other plate. "He’s a master manipulator, not someone to take on lightly.”

Sam looked at Azriel, who had remained silent throughout the entire conversation. She gently nudged him with her elbow, watching him in concern. Azriel looked up at her, their eyes locking on each other, and Sam could see the anger swirling deeply inside. It was so intense that Sam lost her breath, almost regretting getting his attention.

Sam sat up straight, frowning. “Are you okay?”

Azriel's expression did not change, nor did the agitation in his eyes as he answered her curtly, “Yes.”

Sam blinked, confused at his sudden change in demeanor. She wasn't used to this side of Azriel, having grown accustomed to their carefree conversations at night. But in the morning light, Azriel was intense and stoic, and Sam wasn't sure if he was angry at her or not.

Sam suddenly sat back, crossing her legs under the table, and turned to Cassian, an expression of seriousness and determination settling onto her. "And what do you need me to say or not say?"

Cassian sat up straighter with her, swallowing his bite. “What do you mean?”

"I'm assuming this will be akin to an interrogation, at least an uncomfortable conversation. I have sworn to protect the Night Court; I need to know how you want me to proceed, given that Eris is from Autumn."

Cassian's face was nothing short of surprised delight, and a devious grin appeared. "Oh, I like you, Sam."

Sam inclined her head towards him in thanks, the seriousness never leaving her face. “What information do you want me to give up?”

“As little as possible.” Azriel finally spoke up. His shadows swirled around him before an object was dropped in front of her. “Eris found this in the forest.”

"My wallet!" Sam exclaimed, snatching it up, flicking it open, and going through her cards and what little paper money she had. "I thought I lost it in Savannah." She whispered, looking at her credit and insurance cards. She glanced at her driver's license, turning to Azriel, who had not taken his eyes off of her. "So he knows the basic information about me."

Azriel nodded, "Your birthday, height, weight, full name, address of another world, and currency of your former country.”

Sam could hear the underlying anger in his tone the more he spoke. He was mad at her, and she now knew why. She turned back to Cassian as her own irrational anger started to manifest. It’s not like she meant to leave her wallet behind. It wasn’t like she meant to come here. "How do you want me to be during questioning?"

“Be accommodating, for the most part. Answer his questions but be - “

"Difficult," Sam answered for him as she stared down at her driver's license photo. It looked more like one of her mugshots than a driver's license photo. She had stared straight ahead, unsmiling, looking more displeased that she had to have her photo taken.

“Eris will expect to meet a weak, scared human." Lucien began, sitting back in his chair with a hand resting on his full stomach. "You have to be anything but."

Sam agreed; she would meet his brother, who was next in line to the throne of Autumn and someone with a lot of history with the Night Court. The gravity of the situation settled on her shoulders.

“I need to speak to Feyre before Eris questions me.”

"We can have it arranged," Cassian replied quickly, turning back to his plate, intent on clearing it before meeting the Autumn-born heir again.

-x-

Rhys and Feyre met her in Rhys's office at the grand River House. Sam had to control her awestruck expression at the sheer massiveness and beauty of the home. She didn't have time to take in all the marble flooring and beautifully painted artwork that hung on all the walls as she was quickly ushered in by Cassian towards Rhys' office. She could glance out the window to see a stunning backyard filled with seasonal flowers and lush shrubs. Sam wondered who tended to the beautiful garden, wondered if it was Elain—if it was her talent and patience to nurture and grow plants to the point of thriving.

Regardless of who it was, the garden was marvelous to behold. Sam didn't have a green thumb, though she wished she did; however, the plants in her apartment were made of plastic, and she had killed enough on accident to know it was not her forte.

“I do not believe Eris will pry much, but he does have the right to," Rhys said, stealing her attention from the garden. "I will be present for the questioning, as will Feyre and Azriel."

“Lucien requested to be in the room, as well," Feyre said, setting her folded hands in her lap and observing Sam. "So you will be surrounded by familiar faces.”

Sam shrugged, indifferent to any spectators, turning her attention down to the law book on the desk that she had requested. "I don't care who is in the room, respectfully," Sam replied hurriedly. "I just need to know what information you want me to give him and what to avoid."

Rhys's violet eyes were alight, sparkling like stars in the night sky. "Considering we don't have much to go on as we haven't been able to talk and Amren has gone radio silent for now, we will allow him to ask what he wishes. I do not think there will be much he will have to work with.”

“But you must play your part.”

Sam became mindful of how delicate fae hearing was, knowing Eris was somewhere in the manor. She looked at Feyre and Rhys and thought, ‘You think I can accomplish this?’

A sharp talon caressed the barrier of her mind, and she suppressed the shudder and the sudden involuntary recoil her body instinctively gave at the feeling. 'We do. Eris will do everything to press your buttons, but you will do fine.'

‘But defend yourself,” Feyre’s voice replied sternly, and Sam tried not to smirk. 'You may be human, but that does not mean he is better than you. Make sure he knows that.'

Sam felt gratitude and respect flow through herself for Feyre, who gave her a sly smile. Sam suddenly realized Feyre was more devious than initially thought, a perfect match to Rhysand. She was a mastermind carefully crafted, a former human transformed and honed into a fae weapon of war and manipulation. This was her High Lady, the female who brought the Spring Court to its knees. Feyre Cursebreaker.

If Rhys wasn’t already married and mated to her, Sam would ask her out for a drink.

Feyre's laughter broke through the air, and Rhys murmured an agreement with Sam's line of thinking. "Apologies, Sam, but it took more than a drink to convince her I was a good choice."

“I believe a shoe was involved…” Feyre tapped a finger against her chin.

“And a lot of patience and paint.” Rhys smiled at his mate, his gaze devastatingly in love.

Sam smirked at them before returning to the thick book of laws and regulations, "I'll need an open line of communication between the three of us in case I get tripped up."

Rhys nodded reassuringly, his arm wrapped around Feyre’s waist, “You will have it. We will be with you the entire step of the way.”

Sam tapped her finger on a subclause under the rights of the people during civil investigations and interrogations. "I wish I had more time to read this; I'm sure it would be useful in the future."

“You're more than welcome to come by any time, and we can also send it with you when you depart for the House of Wind," Feyre replied, walking over to Sam and fixing her hair over her shoulder. "You look like you were born to wear the Night Court colors."

Sam chuckled, closing the book and looking down at her deep hunter green dress, cut lower in the front and a slight slit running up her leg to give the illusion that she was taller than she was. The stunning dress flowed to the floor and enhanced the color of her eyes, the shade of green almost an exact match. Her black heels differed incredibly from her combat boots, but she was comfortable walking in them nonetheless. She was thankful she wouldn't have to walk over cobblestones in them; the last time Sam wore heels, she had gotten it stuck between the stones, snapping the heel off and twisting her ankle. Her deep purple-red hair complimented her dress, her hair left down and in its natural, curly state. Sam was bare-faced, unable to procure any makeup in this world, and not comfortable enough to use Mor's or Feyre's.

“Green has always been my color," Sam commented, adjusting the top of her dress. Rhys turned his eyes away out of respect as Feyre stepped closer to help adjust the straps.

“You look beautiful, Sam," Feyre told her as she stepped back to admire the dress. Feyre’s eyes traced the sleeves of tattoos running along Sam’s arms as Sam adjusted the skirt.

“Lucien said Eris would expect a pathetic human girl; I think this says the opposite, or hopefully it does.”

Feyre hummed in approval, "Oh, it definitely screams the opposite. Be grateful Mor isn't here to see you; not even I could save you from the shopping sprees and parties at Rita's that she would drag you to."

Sam forced a smile. Something about Mor didn't seem right to her. Maybe it was because she was considered a goddess, and Sam wasn't ready to dive into that conversation. “Well, let's go meet Eris Vanserra, then. Get it over with," Sam announced as she walked with Feyre towards the door.

“I will meet you up there.” Rhysand kissed Feyre on the cheek and disappeared into the hallway, leaving the two females alone in the office.

“After this, I'm going to the House of Wind?" Sam asked Feyre, giving herself a once over in the mirror across the room.

“My sisters will be waiting to meet you there. Cassian and Azriel will take you.”

She was excited to go to the House of Wind, where she would make her stay for as long as she would be there. Cassian and Nesta gave up a room for her in their own house, a sacrifice that did not go unnoticed by Sam and one for which she was grateful.

She had heard all the 'bad' things about Nesta from Lucien, but Sam knew there was a history between them, likely regarding Elain, who Nesta was fiercely protective of. Sam was excited to meet Nesta and Elain, two polar opposites of sisters, but the stories of Nesta piqued Sam's interest. It would be a battle to get Nesta to trust her, but Sam wanted that friendship desperately, knowing that if things ended up going to Hell, she would need someone like Nesta.

Feyre was quiet as she listened to the movements in the house, only nodding at Sam when she was sure the meeting room was ready for them. They stepped out of the room together, walking in stride with a purpose. The sound of their heels clicking on the marble floor enhanced Sam’s confidence about going into this meeting, this interrogation, but the fear of slipping up and saying something she wasn’t supposed to kept ebbing into her internal struggle to keep the faith.

‘You will do fine, Sam, do not worry.’ Feyre smiled at her, nodding to her silent words of encouragement.

The door to the meeting room was opened, and Sam was greeted by another beautifully decorated part of the house. Floor-to-ceiling windows lined the room's right side, overlooking the curve of the Sidra. Sunlight glistened along the top of the water, reflecting light towards the River House and catching the teardrop crystals of the chandelier hanging above them in the center of the room. A long, wooden, oval table surrounded by light brown office chairs took up most of the space to the left of the room, and two identical chairs facing each other sat in the middle of the space. Sam wanted to commission Feyre's interior decorating skills for her home apartment.

Seeing Eris Vanserra was nothing short of intimidating. He stood tall and regal in his stance; his entire body exuded confidence, discipline, and well-earned arrogance. His sharp, amber eyes roamed over her figure, and she felt like she was being stripped bare under the weight of his gaze. His long silken red hair, similar to Lucien's, draped over his shoulders, and his pointed ears peeked through the strands. Sam could see the well-built muscles through his tailored shirt and jacket, the clothes hugging his arms and straining across his chest. Clearly, he commanded the Autumn Court forces; even if Lucien hadn't told her, it would have been easily guessed.

Feyre went to stand beside Rhysand, who was talking to Eris, who was assessing her as she glided further into the room. Azriel was tucked away along the corner of the room, shadows covering his body, but Sam could see his bright eyes staring at her, burning a hole through her skin. Sam and Azriel stared at each other as tension built between them; Sam could feel a tightening in her gut, similar to a rope being used in tug-o-war. It was distracting and nerve-wracking, a feeling that grew more uncomfortable the longer they looked at each other.

She suppressed a shudder as Lucien came to her side, resting a hand on the bare skin between her shoulders and allowing her to break the connection with Azriel. He glanced down at her, asking a question with his eyes, and Sam nodded in agreement. She was fine; she would be even better once this was over.

She adjusted to her full height, giving Eris a body check of his own. "You must be Eris Vanserra," she said, concentrating on toning down her Southern accent to make it as neutral as possible. "I'm Samantha Damato." She held out her hand for him to shake.

“Samantha Damato, it's a pleasure to meet you." Eris took Sam's hand in his own. Callouses scraped along her skin as he gripped her hand firmly, pressing a kiss to the back and bowing a little at the waist in his own greeting.

Oh, he’s good.

Sam was almost caught off guard at the chivalry that Eris showed her, a facade to lure in his prey before devouring. She pushed away the intrusive, inappropriate thought about Eris and him devouring her as quickly as she could, praying Rhys and Feyre didn’t hear it. Eris’s half-lidded eyes sparked as he dragged them up to meet her darkened green eyes.

Sam knew how to play this game, and a thrill shot through her.

Sam took control of the situation, motioning to the two chairs facing each other in the center of the room. "Shall we?"

Eris's grin sent shivers down her spine as she allowed him to guide her towards a chair. He only let go of her hand when she smoothed down the back of her dress to sit down as gracefully as possible. She crossed her legs, the slit in her dress exposing a little more of her upper thigh, a deliberate move on her part. His eyes flickered to the expanse of newly revealed skin before dragging his gaze up her bodice and face.

“Who are you?” Eris asked immediately, hardly giving her time to settle in her seat.

‘Not so much for foreplay, huh? Pity.’ She thought before replying to him aloud, “Samantha Grace Damato, but I believe you already knew that.”

Eris didn't seem amused at her response, his expression betraying nothing. “Who are you, really?”

Sam's eyebrow quirked; the urge to reply with sarcasm was almost unbearable. "Samantha Grace Damato, as I have said three times now.”

“Where are you from?” Eris asked, moving on with the line of questioning. Sam could already tell that she was getting on his nerves, which, to be fair, had been easy thus far. That twisted side of her wanted to see how far she could push him.

"I believe you know that answer as well," Sam replied, glancing at her nails briefly. She made a show of frowning at her hand, running her thumbnail along her cuticle before looking back at him.

Eris was staring at her, his eyes cold and his expression controlled. “Why are you here?”

"The question we all wish to know the answer to, but I have no answer to give." Sam shrugged one of her shoulders. ‘Get in line, bud.’

Eris gave her a disbelieving glance, sitting back in his chair. “You must know something.”

Sam wasn't an expert in reading body language, but she knew when someone was stressed and forced to stay relaxed. She had seen it in the mirror more often than not. "I know many things; the answer to that question is not one of them."

Eris’s eyes flickered with agitation, “Why were you in the Autumn Court?”

"I wasn't there on holiday, I assure you." She scoffed at him. Sam found it beautiful despite her response implying an insult to the Court. Autumn was her favorite season, and the memory of the stunning beauty of his Court in all its vibrant colors kept calling her to go back. She wanted the chance to see it again.

“Why were you in Autumn?” He asked again, his lip slightly curling back to reveal his perfectly white teeth.

"It was where I landed," Sam explained briefly. There was no harm in giving information he already knew. “You saw the impact sight; clearly, it wasn't planned."

“You were just a few miles away from the Forest House, where my father resides,” Sam saw Lucien tense out of the corner of her eye, his head whipping towards her. “How did you slip past the guards?”

Sam tried to contain her frustration. “I don’t even know what the Forest House is, let alone who your dad is,” As she spoke, she heard Rhys’ voice in her head warning her not to insult Beron, the High Lord of Autumn. “I didn’t know where I was.”

“How did you slip the guards?” Eris asked again, a little more forceful. His jaw tightened, and his brows were furrowed. Sam could taste the anger rolling off of him.

Sam’s eyes narrowed at him, “I ate dirt, fell into the mud, and then started walking...for hours. If there were guards around, I didn’t see any. That says more about your guards than it does about me.”

Eris suddenly leaned forward, causing Azriel to approach them from the shadows. "Do not insult my Court or my men.” Eris was a viper, coiled and ready to strike. Vicious in his words.

Sam was pushing the right buttons then. “Then do not insult my intelligence by asking the same damn question expecting a different response.” Sam leaned forward and hissed right back at him.

She was playing a dangerous game. It was easy to forget that she was merely human and these faes could kill her within seconds. Her presence, her existence, would not be missed here; it would be a tiny blip on the radar in the grand scheme of things. She had not made a lasting impression on anyone, and her death would not be mourned for longer than an hour.

“You appeared in Autumn, slipped the guards, and were on your way north. Were you planning to meet with someone?”

Sam was getting angry, and her inability to control the filter between her brain and her mouth was beginning to wear thin. "I wasn't meeting anyone. I was lookin' for help. I didn’t know where I was.”

“You expect me to believe that?”

“It’s the truth.” She sighed exasperatedly. They were going in circles.

Eris scoffed at her, leaning forward again to hiss lowly, "You could be a spy for all I know.”

"A spy?" Sam scoffed back at him, setting her hands in her lap as her fingernails dug into the palms of her hands. "With all due respect, I have more trouble in my life than worrying about what you got goin' on in the Autumn Court. Do not mistake my appearance in Autumn as an indication of interest of you. I assure you that I do not care.”

"You seem indifferent to the severity of your situation, Samantha,” Eris began, her name rolling off his tongue like poisoned honey. “You seem to underestimate the extremes of what you have brought our world into.”

Sam’s eyebrow rose, confusion and doubt starting to rear up behind her thoughts. “I know very well what my situation entails, and it does not concern you as much as you think it does, I promise."

"Oh, but it does because, at this very moment, there are soldiers on their way to Prythian from the Continent to seek out the rift you caused.” Sam did her absolute best to control the shock that ran through her. “So, tell me, how does a human create a rift between worlds?”

"Rewording the question will not give you the answers you want," Sam snapped, her eyes flashing with vexation. She was already sick of this line of questioning; all she could do was give the truth. "I don't know the answer to that question. And I won't allow you to gaslight me into admitting something I didn't do!"

“I would like the record to show that those guards that you speak of, Eris, have been seen to at your request," Rhysand spoke up from his position at the table. "They are currently on their way back towards the Continent, where they will spend a few days in Rask before returning to Vallahan with nothing to report."

Sam held back her smirk at Rhysand, effectively shutting Eris's argument. While Eris replied to Rhysand, Sam thought back to the Autumn Court, where she had walked in the woods without seeing anyone. Her eyes flickered to Lucien, who was already looking at her. Sam thought momentarily that he would spring into action and steal her away from his brother if given the opportunity. Her head tilted to the side as she stared at Lucien, but she was talking to Eris as she questioned, "Did you send those dogs after us?"

Sam didn’t have to be looking at Eris to know she had caught him off guard. “I did.”

She asked Eris, "How long did you know I was in your forest?"

Eris blinked at her, the smirk falling from his face and returning to a blank mask. "A while," he said.

"So you knew that I was there for a while. You knew I needed help and was clearly disoriented, and instead of helping me, you sent dogs to attack me?”

Eris rolled his eyes, “I did not send them to attack you,”

"You clearly didn't send them to get a damn pup cup," Sam replied, aggravated, “You sent them to attack me, to attack us. Your brother came to my rescue.”

“Well, thank the Mother that Lucien was there to protect you," His tone was scathing, and Sam's eyebrow quirked again.

“Better male than you are,” Sam spat at him, adjusting her weight to cross her other leg. “Under the Truce Treaty of the Hybern Wars, the Autumn Court and the Night Court are allies, signed personally by yourself on behalf of High Lord Beron Vanserra.” Sam could hear Feyre’s voice in her head as she repeated her words to Eris, “Sending your hounds after the Night Court Emissary, who had every right to be in Autumn and as he is still recognized as a member of the Royal Family, violates the Truce Treaty under Sub Section Thirty-Two, where it states that ‘an attack on a Royal Family member of any Court, under no duress or threat of physical harm or war, where the attack is considered 'unprovoked' and 'unsanctioned,' is considered a violation of the Treaty and punishable by incarceration.’"

Eris's grin was serpentine in nature, and Sam, despite the boiling hot waves of fury rolling through her bloodstream, had chills running down her spine at the sight of it, "And what does the Truce Treaty say about trespassing in other Courts?"

"How could I be considered 'trespassing' if that is where I landed? I was in an alleyway and face first in the mud, hardly trespassing." She reiterated again for what seemed like the hundredth time.

“But you are a ‘naturalized’ citizen of the Night Court, are you not?”

"At the time, she was not," Rhys admitted to Eris after Sam remained silent, unsure how to answer. Sam could tell that what they had been trying to do was starting to backfire.

"So, when you were in the Autumn Court, you had no Court the claim as your own and no business being there. Under the Truce Treaty, I can take trespassers and other lawbreakers into Autumn Court custody for further questioning."

“The hell you will-" Lucien started, stepping to Sam's side.

“I am taking her into Autumn Court custody," Eris said sternly, staring at her intensely.

Sam stared back at him, the fire in her eyes matching his, “Under what grounds exactly?”

“Interfering with an investigation, illegal and unlawful entry into Autumn and Prythian, and espionage.” Eris stood up, adjusting the lapels of his jacket. He stared down at her. An air of arrogance surrounded him, making it hard for her to breathe.

“Just because you don’t like my answers does not mean I am interfering or being dishonest. It’s just what you don’t want to hear,” Sam replied, standing up and stepping towards him. “And that doesn’t fall under grounds of arrest.”

They were a foot apart, staring at each other to see who would back down first. Hot-headed and petty, Sam would stand in the middle of that room for as long as it took until he backed down first. Eris seemed to be playing the same game as her, comfortable with standing there in a stalemate.

A part of her bargain tattoo started to pull, a mild burning running along the middle of her back and towards her shoulders. She showed no emotion or acknowledgment that she had felt the burn as she stood there, content to continue to let it hurt if it meant becoming the victor.

"She will not be going anywhere, Eris." Feyre's voice sounded from her left, but Sam didn't move.

“It is my rig-”

"We know it is your right, but as you have already been informed, Sam is a special circumstance. We will not allow you to take her to Autumn nor in front of Beron."

Sam felt the sting of her tattoo, and another part lit up in a flare of pain. She briefly wondered what each section meant before pushing it aside.

"You have two choices, it seems, Eris," Rhysand's voice came next. You either sign the paperwork we presented you with earlier today regarding Sam's situation or you leave the Night Court with no more information than what you came here with. We granted you the request to meet Sam and question her; now it is your turn."

“You’re going to be trouble, Samantha, I know it. They all know it.” Eris whispered to her. Sam couldn’t help but become entranced by the fire dancing in his amber eyes. “That’s why they are keeping you so close.”

“I am nothing, Eris. Nothing. They have nothing to win or lose by helping me. Neither will you if you agree to help." Sam hissed right back at him just as softly. Her heart clenched tightly as she said the words out loud. "I will not beg you to sign those papers."

"Oh, but hearing you beg would be so sweet.” Eris’ grin was terrifying and electrifying all at the same time.

Sam felt his words ghost over her skin as she took a half step closer to him, dropping her voice even lower to where she could hardly hear herself, “I’m not the begging kind, Eris, but I think you could be if you played your cards right.” Something hot flashed through his expression for a fleeting moment, but Sam was able to catch it, and it caused a slow, vicious smile to appear on her lips. "I know I talk with an accent and sound slow as fuck, but it's a trick, don't get it twisted. I do not answer to you. I answer to my High Lord and Lady, and you will get no further with me, or them, if those papers are not signed.”

The silence was deafening as the two continued to stare at each other. Sam wondered if she had gotten too deep into the role and character she was playing, and Eris wondered how he could use the situation to benefit himself if he signed the papers. Sam felt a wave of praise roll over her mind, but she didn't dare let her eyes leave Eris, pinning him there until he made a decision.

After what felt like forever, Eris turned to Rhysand and Feyre, "I will sign the paperwork." He turned back to Sam, his eyes moving over her face, her ears, and her chest and back up to her eyes, "You're going to be a one-way ticket to Hell."

I hope not.

-x-

Sam didn’t release a breath of relief until she was far, far away from the meeting room. She removed herself from the house completely, disappearing into the backyard garden as quickly as she could manage it. Her heart was pounding a tattoo against her chest as the adrenaline rushed through her blood.

She had gotten too deep into the role she had played. She was playing with fire so recklessly that she knew she would get burned sooner or later. Eris was not like the men back home in her world; he was a master manipulator, a commanding general of an army, and the future High Lord of Autumn. Sam had attempted to sway him with suggestive comments and dumb luck. Sam ran a hand through her hair as she breathed deeply to steady her heart rate.

“Sam?”

She turned around to see Rhysand standing behind her. "Oh god, if you're here to tell me that I shouldn't have done that and that I went too far, I'm already beating myself up about it."

Rhysand laughed, standing beside her, and turned his attention to the blooming foliage. "No, that's not why I am out here. You did good."

“I basically offered myself to him on a platter if he signed the papers.” Sam sighed, looking down at her hands.

"We all have done things we are not proud of to get the job done," Rhys replied carefully. "It was quite tame compared to what we have all done." He turned his head towards her. "You were able to get him to sign the papers without risking yourself, this Court, or any information he wasn't privy to before signing. You did well."

"Is that why my tattoo burned?" Sam asked, puzzled, still looking towards the hedges.

“That was my bargain with you," He answered as he tapped the spot near her right shoulder blade. "When Eris threatened to arrest you. If he tried to take you, you would have needed my permission or Feyre's to leave the Night Court."

“So I can’t leave the Night Court at all?”

"No, you can, as long as it is your decision. If someone tried to take you from this Court without our permission, then...well, it would not end well for them and, in that particular situation, would not have ended well for me either." He gave her a tight smile, but his violet eyes and posture were relaxed.

"Another part of my back started burning," Sam tried to reach behind her and point to it. "It's about right here."

Rhys traced a swirl of ink along her spine, and she nodded when he got to the spot that had burned earlier. "Ah, that's Azriel's. It's his promise to protect you. That's likely why he had been behind you when you stood up to Eris." He chuckled, stepping back to his original spot beside her. "Cassian's is right below his."

Sam didn't respond as she mulled over the information. A comfortable silence fell between them as they overlooked the garden and the mighty mountains rising in the distance. Only when the door to the house opened behind them did they both turn around to see who joined their company. Cassian and Azriel stepped out of the house, their wings fanning behind them to catch the rays of sunlight.

“You’re ready?” Rhysand asked them both as Azriel closed the door behind them.

Cassian held up a rut sack that was nearly bursting at the seams. “Have all her stuff ready to go.”

"Is Lucien comin'?" Sam asked the three males standing before her.

Rhys shook his head, "He has a few things to discuss with his brother."

"Oh," Sam mumbled, standing between Cassian and Azriel. "Well, would you tell him I said 'bye'?"

Rhys turned to Sam, setting a hand on her shoulder. "Feyre and I will see you at the House of Wind tomorrow; if Lucien is available, we will bring him along. Until then, get some rest." He squeezed her shoulder. "You did good today; don't beat yourself up about it."

Sam nodded and allowed him to lead her to the two Illyrians waiting patiently. Cassian gave her a huge grin, wiggling his eyebrows while Azriel remained stone-faced. " Are you ready to go home?"

She ignored the word he used for where she was going, “Are we walking?”

Cassian’s booming laugh echoed around the garden as Rhys tried to turn away in time to hide his smile. “Oh no, we’re flying.”

“Huh?” Sam stared at him dumbly. “We’re wha’?”

Cassian’s wings spread out to their full width, the sunlight changing them into a deep red. Sam took a step back, fear pulsing through her. "We either fly, or it's ten thousand steps up."

“...I know you’re fuckin’ lyin’.”

He was, in fact, not lying.

Tag List: @smol-grandpa, @daughterofthemoons-stuff, @plants-w0rld, @rcarbo1

[crime-scene-psychic]

As I continue my Titans rewatch, I feel as though I've been unfairly harsh towards it. No, it's not perfect by any means. The writing goes from standing out, to half-way decent, and then to CW-levels of awful all in the span of a single episode. The special effects leave much to be desired for an HBO production. Sometimes the characters would simply Not Do That. It's literally impossible to see anything due to the lighting choices. Timeline? What's a timeline?

But it also gave me live-action versions of a lot of characters we haven't ever gotten the chance to see in that particular format. It gave me a pretty complex Dick Grayson character, something that, until that show, hadn't existed in a live-action sense either. The only other characterizations of that character that existed before Titans that were that complex were animated (namely the original Teen Titans and Young Justice, though they also didn't get a chance to truly develop the character as fully, in my opinion, because they were A. shows geared towards kids, and B. looking to focus on the entire team as a whole, which Titans sometimes had a hard time doing).

A lot of critique towards the end of the show came from people (rightfully so) complaining that the show focused too much on the Batfamily and that they should've just made a Batfamily show if that's what they wanted to focus on, which I agree. Don't get me wrong, I think a big reason why I can see so much potential in the show and why I enjoyed it so much is that it focused on the characters I loved so much. However, I realize that the show is called Titans, not Batfamily, so I totally understand why a lot of people were pissed. They signed up to watch the Titans, not whatever problems Bruce Wayne and his gaggle of children were dealing with.

I'm just biased and I recognize that.

Like, yeah, the show is far from perfect, but even with it sometimes focusing a bit more of Dick than other characters, I still feel like there are well-rounded story lines for the rest of the characters, at least the main cast, especially as it finds its footing a bit in the later seasons.

I hope in the near-decent future we do get a Batfamily show (or, heaven forbid, because I would NEVER shut up about it) a Dick Grayson show, because just from New 52 and DC Rebirth there is SO MUCH MATERIAL and that's not even scratching the current runs. There's so much to do with these characters, especially Dick, and I can't help but with Titans getting canceled (I'm surprised it made it 4 seasons, in all honestly) feel unsatisfied. Even with what was able to do, I was still disappointed when it came to how they handled certain story lines (mainly Slade and Dick, because I really feel like they had a missed opportunity not including the Apprentice story line. Like, they could've made it the big secret Dick was keeping from the rest of the Titans in season 2, that during his time with the first Titans group he was forced to work with Slade, but they did the Jericho thing, which is fine, but I think if they'd stuck a bit more to the source material they would've been better for it, especially since the Apprentice arch is such a fan favorite).

I've been rereading some of the New 52 pre and post Forever Evil, mainly the Court of Owls run and the Grayson run, and there's so much untapped potential there! Just as I was revisiting Grayson, I couldn't help but think about how badass some of the panels would look in a live action show. We've barely gotten Court of Owls content, and when we do, they make it all about Bruce, which is fine, I guess, but Dick Grayson in the current Prime Earth lore was LITERALLY BORN to be a Court of Owl Talon and it's such a missed opportunity not to explore that further (which is probably one of the few grievances I had with Gotham Knights because if they were able to show Jason going through the Lazarus Pit again then GODDAMMIT they could've at least HINTED at Dick's ancestry!).

Side note, Court of Owls wouldn't have made much sense in Titans, but then again, they didn't seem too bothered playing fast and loose with the timelines, so why should I? It would've been a really interesting Dick Grayson arch, especially in comparison to Gar and Conner's time with CADMUS in season 2. Like I would love to see the Court sink their Talons into Dick and fuck him up a bit, but again, I'M BIASED!!!!

I hope with more and more people getting into the Batfamily that it'll lead to more content, especially live-action, but it just seems like studios aren't interested, which is insane because it seems everyone else is? I don't get why they're so hesitant. I talked about this in another recently long ass post, but I don't really get why studios are afraid to put Robin/Dick Grayson into the DCEU. He's such a cool character if done right and his fighting style is super sick to see live-action, as demonstrated in TItans. I love that they incorporate acrobats into his style, it's fucking awesome to see.

I dunno. Just back on my DC bullshit and thinking things. That's it.

[starwarsmum]

Day 20 is Pandora's Box 🫶 this is a follow up to a previous fic, I'll Kill You Either Way

@maribat-calendar-events

“You're moving out of the manor?” Bruce asked, confused. It had been six months since the catastrophe of working with Ladybug, and Damian had taken a couple of months to be furious with them before tentatively forgiving them. Bruce had assumed they were past any problems but now he was being thrown the curveball of Damian's moving out.

“Yes, father. I think it is past time that I see how well I can manage without Alfred taking care of me,” Damian explained patiently as he boxed up several painting tools. “And…the woman I have been seeing has offered to split the rent with me for a decent sized apartment.”

“Right, Marinette,” Bruce said, frowning more severely. Damian tensed whilst packing but didn't acknowledge the statement, nor stop. “You don't think moving in together after four months is a little fast?”

“Marinette and I have discussed our options and we would both like to see if living together works for us. As for the length of our relationship, I feel that four months is a sufficient amount of time to know whether it is worth the risk.”

“Have you completed a background check on her yet?” 

“Why should I when I already know that Drake has completed one? Had there been a concern I am sure either would have found out by now,” Damian said, smirking smugly when Bruce frowned more deeply.

“If you haven't done your research how can you trust her this much?” Bruce demanded. Damian sighed and shook his head but didn't elaborate, continuing to pack. “Damian, you know we just want you to be safe.”

“Alfred approves of her, I do not see what other endorsement she can possibly need. In addition, I am doing my ‘research’,” he said sarcastically, pausing in his task to add air quotes, “by getting to know her the traditional way. I do not intend to trespass upon her privacy by studying her like a criminal when I can simply ask her for her history.”

“People lie, Damian!”

“And background checks do not reveal everything about a person, father! For example, a background check would likely reveal an expulsion charge that was never removed correctly from her academic record. By speaking with her and discussing her past I know that she was wrongfully accused of something that led to an erroneous expulsion.”

Snapping his suitcase closed, Damian sighed again and sat on the edge of his bed. He looked up at Bruce with an inscrutable look, green eyes pensive. Bruce mentally noted that he didn't appear to be under any type of magical influence though he didn't write it off.

“Father, I am an adult and I am ready to attempt this. Marinette is trustworthy and I want to be with her, possibly forever. If I believe her to be trustworthy and you say you trust me, can you not extend some faith to her as well?”

Bruce couldn't think of anything to say to that, his mind working furiously to find a counterpoint or argument. Before he could, Damian's phone chimed and a genuine smile graced his face. It made him look younger, and happier than Bruce could recall seeing him before.

“Marinette is here to collect me. We shall be back for dinner on Friday and I will collect my remaining belongings at that point. Please remind Drake that we have a meeting on Wednesday to discuss Wayne Enterprise involvement in a charity venture.”

And then he was striding down the hall and out of the manor. Bruce watched from a window as he greeted the diminutive French woman warmly. Alfred approached them and she held out a box to the older man, smiling brightly at him and laughing.

Bruce couldn't understand it. The pair had hit it off at the Halloween party Jagged had brought her to. The rest of his children had seemed fairly charmed by her as well, Tim practically singing her praises as Jagged's designer. He himself had admittedly been impressed with the amount she had accomplished at such a young age.

As the couple climbed into her car and drove away, Bruce resolved himself to find out everything he could on the young woman.

_ _ _

When Damian and Marinette arrived at the manor on Friday night for dinner, Bruce was annoyed. He still hadn't found out any additional information beyond the initial background check that Tim had run and it made him grumpy. He also couldn't get rid of the feeling that she was hiding something big - though he couldn't prove it.

“Yo, Demon Spawn, how does it feel to be living out of the manor finally?” Jason called out once they were all seated. Bruce hadn't had the chance to tell the others that Damian had moved in with Marinette, and Damian had been the one to inform them that he was moving out. “Started any fires yet?”

“No, though not for lack of trying,” Marinette snorted before Damian could jump in. He made a false offended noise but grinned at her. “Mon chéri, you got distracted and forgot that you were boiling eggs. We had to throw the pan out, it was so badly charred.”

“Yes, well, I learned my lesson,” he said as he rolled his eyes. “Do we need to talk about the things you leave strewn about the apartment when you are designing?”

“Wait, are you saying you two are living together?” Dick jumped in, eyeing Marinette with barely contained glee. “Lil D, why didn't you tell us?”

“Why did you think you were entitled to know?” Damian shot back with a mock glare. “I do not need to share every part of my life with each of you cretins.”

“Okay, but…” Tim began, though he trailed off. Bruce wasn't sure what was bothering him and that feeling of wrongness made itself known again. Tim continued carefully. “I'm just surprised, given the new living arrangements, there hasn't been more of an impact on your punctuality.”

The room went quiet as Dick exchanged a look with Babs, who was joining in for the night as she wasn't going to be the only girl there. Bruce had to control his face as he realised what Tim was alluding to. Damian hadn't missed, or even been tardy to, a single patrol since moving out.

It was a conundrum for Bruce. He felt like Pandora standing in front of the box; if he probed for answers about Marinette's knowledge he would tip his hand, but if he didn't he had no way of knowing what she knew. 

“Believe me, with the amount I sleep in there would have to be some sort of miracle at work for him to need to fight over the bathroom in the morning,” Marinette said lightly, reaching over to squeeze Damian's hand. He gave her a besotted smile, interlacing their fingers.

The meal went as well as could be expected, Damian only snapping at Jason once or twice. It was clear he was relaxed and that Marinette was making him less harsh. Bruce just hoped there wouldn't be problems further down the line, when Damian inevitably had to keep secrets from her.

Part 3

[toji-fushiguro-is-broke]

How you date

How you date

(He picks where you go out)

Dating Toji isn't that hard, this man can survive anything. He isn't that picky.

He can eat anything and go anywhere as long as it isn't boring and expensive for him.

Toji isn't the one who does romantic dates. He doesn't know what that is, he'd probably bring you to places he likes and he thinks that maybe you'd like it too.

...Well, you did ask him to take you to places that he normally goes to and spend his time...

And those places were either dangerous, shabby or unheard of.

One time you both went to a gambling den, he asked you to wear a oversized shirt and pants going there.

You could smell the sweat of different men all the same time, their beer, and their cigarettes.

"I spend my time here, whenever I have no missions. Pretty great place if you ask me."

But you both weren't here for that. You looked as you see people fighting to death in the den as people bet left and right.

And the way people look at you like they were about to kill you in an instant, as Toji looks at them, they look away scared.

You wonder how that was Ideal for a date.

'Oh yeah, I forgot. There's no romantic bone in his body.' You thought as you saw Toji betting for the people fighting inside the den.

*End of Flash back*

*Back to the Present*

This time, you asked Toji to bring you somewhere that he normally eats and relax.

Where it isn't a gambling den or anything dangerous.

You were wishing this time, the place would be decent. You thought to yourself as you continue to follow him.

"They sell the best food" He said as he stopped infront of a shop as he enters and orders two food for the both of you.

The food was super cheap, and it looked like it was made something that wasn't made from real food.

As you looked at your food, you looked at him eating his share happily.

You sighed, and began eat it because he tried to bringing you out, as you tasted the food. You couldn't taste anything, like there was no seasoning on the food.

Atleast it you can tolerate eating the food.

Then it made you think, if this food was delicious for him. What kinds of food did he eat throughout his life.

Why did this cheap food that doesn't even taste anything, taste so delicious for him.

That place last time, that gambling den.

Where people fought to death just for money, that isn't even more than a few thousand that wouldn't even pay for all of their bills.

The thought of him being relaxed in that atmosphere makes you think. What kind life has this man went through that his standards was almost low as if it didn't existed.

After eating, you two started walking around the park. And sat down, looking around the people and family enjoying their time at the park.

"Look, I'm bad at this shit." He spoke.

"It's okay, you tried. I'm happy to see this side of you." You smiled as you looked at him.

He scoffed and looked away smiling. As he looks back to seeing you looking the scenery in the park where there was a lake infront of you with swans enjoying a beautiful scenery.

You thought to yourself, that you'd love him and teach him how to love.

[evieismol]

Big Bend Chapter Four - Workday

Wordcount: ~1800 words

Cw: language

Previous

“All ready?” John asked. I forced a small, close lipped smile as I looked down at the human standing on my desk. I didn't think I'd ever get used to how small humans were.  

“Yeah.” I hoped I sounded convincing. 

“Today’s going to go fine,” John said. Apparently I hadn't sounded convincing. “What's got you worried?” 

I glanced to the side, shrugging. “Just nerves, I guess.” 

“Hmm.” 

“So, uh, should we get going?” I asked. To my relief, John nodded. 

“I suppose Dave will be waiting for us soon.” 

As I placed my hand down on the table for John to climb onto, I wondered if Dave would be waiting for us. I'd gotten the impression he wasn't thrilled about working with me. That, or he wasn't thrilled about me period. 

Probably both. I could hardly fault any of the humans for being nervous about, well, me. Even if it wasn't for all the rumors on Earth about Aphirials being man eating monsters - which definitely didn't help - I was still dozens of times larger than them. A literal giant, comparatively. 

In my so far brief interactions with him, Dave seemed…more nervous than my other coworkers, though. I pushed that thought from my mind to focus my attention on John, who had climbed into my palm and taken a seat. That felt like the sort of thing that required 110% of my attention. I was literally holding a life in the palm of my hand. 

“I'm ready whenever you are,” John said. I nodded, telling him I'd stand up and make my way to the door before actually doing so. The morning air was still chilly when we walked out. It seemed like Earth was cooler than Aphiria in general. Even the desert heat here wasn’t too bad, which was a nice change. A less nice change was the comparatively shorter days and nights, which left me feeling like I hadn't slept nearly long enough. 

John instructed me to set him down near an official park truck that was park outside of my trailer. I did so carefully. 

“So, I was thinking I'd go pick up Dave and bring him back here, and we can give him the choice of either riding in the truck or with you. Once he's here, I'll go over the plan for the day.” 

“Sounds good,” I said. I watched as John climbed inside the truck. I couldn't help but feel a little amazed watching it drive away, towards the employee dorms. It was the size of a toy car back on Aphiria, and despite that, was a fully functioning means of transportation. Watching it go, I idly wondered how heavy it would be. 

Would picking it up feel the same as picking up a toy truck?  Despite my mild curiosity, I wasn't in any hurry to find out. It also seemed like something that small with that many working parts would be terrifying easily to break. 

It wasn't long before I saw the tiny truck returning, an equally small cloud of dust behind it. When it pulled up in front of me, John climbed out almost immediately. Dave was slower to emerge. 

“Alright! So, we're going to take the truck, and you can follow us,” John announced. That was an unsurprising turn of events. He continued. “Now, I'm sure Dan will go over the actual, y'know, ranger stuff. I only oversee the whole Aphiria-Earth liasion bit, and I won't be meaning to step on any toes this summer. Just wanted to get that out of the way," John said. "We were going to head over to the eastern part of the park, look around, and then I believe you'll be meeting Dan later this afternoon. Basically, we're just trying to get to know each other this morning.”

Dave and I both nodded, agreeing. I saw his gaze flicker up to me and then quickly away. 

“Easton, when you're following us, just make sure to stay at least a few truck lengths from us,” John said. 

“I will,” I promised. 

And with that, we were off. I made sure to stay a decent distance from the truck as it drove, keeping my gaze carefully focused on where I was stepping. It didn't seem like we'd been moving for too long when we came across a tunnel in the road. I carefully stepped around and over it once the truck had gone through. Shortly after that, the truck turned off into a small, gravel parking lot. I hung back, wanting to give them plenty of space to park and get out. Plus, it wasn’t like I'd fit in the parking lot anyways. As I waited, I took in my surroundings. The Chisos mountains and Panther Junction lay behind us. In front of the parking lot, beyond another stretch of desert, meanwhile, was the Rio Grande. From my vantage, I could see it clearly, though I wasn’t quite sure how it would look to the humans on the ground. 

Compared to rivers back in Aphiria, the part I could see wasn't terribly huge - maybe a bit wider than I was tall. Glancing down at the small truck in the parking lot, which barely came up to my ankles, I could guess why it was considered notably large to the inhabitants of Earth, though. 

“Great! We’re all here! Easton, you can take a seat if you like,” John exclaimed cheerfully as Dave climbed out of the truck. He shot another quick glance up at me. I tried to will myself to project a calming aura, if that was even possible as I sat down. 

“So, right over is the Rio Grande - there’s an overlook right up that trail. I was thinking this would be a great place to get to know the park and each other! Why don't we start with an icebreaker.” He didn't wait for either of us to reply before costinking. “What’s the most boring fact about yourself you can think of right now?” 

I looked over at Dave. The last thing I wanted to do was speak over him or cut him off. He briefly met my gaze, and I quickly looked away, now not wanting to seem like I was staring at him, because that seemed like it would give off the exact opposite of “calming aura”. 

When neither Dave or I answered after a moment, John spoke again. “Fine, I'll start. I’ve been wearing the same brand of deodorant since college. If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it, right?” 

I heard Dave let out a quiet snort at that. 

John looked over at him. “What? You got something more boring than that?” His tone was light and teasing. 

“I use 3 in 1 soap,” Dave said, sounding the most light hearted I’d heard him yet.  

John put his hands up in mock defeat. “Alright, you got me. How about you, Easton?” 

At the mention of my name, Dave visibly tensed again. I felt like shrinking into myself at that. No pun intended. 

“Uh, I organize my clothes by color and style,” I said. 

“I can confirm this,” John said with a laugh. “He has the most organized closet I’ve ever seen. Even compared to me.” 

“And here I am just shoving everything in a drawer,” Dave said. “On a good day.” 

“That’s probably more efficient,” I offered. I had spent many an hour at this point folding and organizing things since arriving, which had served as a nice reminder as to why I’d never been big on moving. Despite continually making choices that necessitated it. 

“Alright, time for round 2-” Before John could finish, we were interrupted by the sound of a car approaching from the opposite direction we’d arrived in. I felt my heart rate spike. I looked down at John for guidance on what to do. 

“Just let me take the lead introducing you if they do stop,” John said. “We haven’t officially introduced you at the park yet, but there have been announcements about your employment here.”

I nodded. The car didn’t slow down or speed up as it approached the turn for the parking lot. I was almost certain it would just continue past when it abruptly veered into the parking lot at a turn that seemed far too fast too be safe, even aside from the lack of turn signal. Almost equally quickly, the car skidded to a halt. Moments later, a woman stepped out. She was so tan she was almost orange, with hair that was close to the same color as mine, albeit with more yellow tones. She paused for a moment, looking at me, and then looking over at Dave and John. 

“So, I take it the rumors about you lot hiring an Aphirial weren’t just rumors,” she said flatly as she looked back to me. She had the sort of cold gaze I’d seen all too often with politicians and businessmen back on Aphiria - a sort of entitled detachment. 

“That’d be correct,” John said. He walked over to her, extending a hand as he introduced himself. “I’m John O’Riley, with the IMA. This is Ranger Easton Parks and this is Ranger Dave Goodman.” He gestured to each of us in turn. 

“Joy Everett. I better not see him trying to eat any of my cattle.” She said. 

I had to stop myself from letting out a baffled “what?”. 

“I can assure you ma’am, that won’t be any issue. Ranger Parks is following the same rules and procedures as any of our other rangers here, none of which include stealing and eating cattle. Isn’t that right?” John looked up at me. 

I nodded quickly. “Yeah. I’m a vegetarian anyways.” I added the last part jokingly, hoping to diffuse the situation. Joy scoffed. 

“Like those snowflake Californians?” She paused, then laughed. “You really expect me to believe that? Whatever. Just stay away from my cattle.” 

She stalked back to her car, slamming the door. 

“Nice to meet you!” John called. She flipped us off, screeching out of the parking lot as quickly as she’d entered. The three of us were silent. 

“Well…she seems…nice. And definitely not like she’d call me a slur,” Dave finally said. 

“You good?” John asked me. As if reminded I was there, Dave glanced up at me, worry suddenly glittering in his eyes. Not so much for me. More for what my reaction might be. 

“I’m fine. Can’t please everyone,” I said carefully. 

“Suppose that’s the truth,” John said. “I’ll mention it to Dan, see if he knows anything about her, since it sounds like she’s a local. Anyways, good job to both of you.” 

Dave gave a tight smile, and I desperately wished there was something I could do to put the small man at ease. This was going to be a long day.

[micechicken]

Some rambling on this scene.

A lot of things I've seen about this is just talking about how this is D's full switch into violence. And while that is true I think it's just everything at once.

I should also mention that this is seen as Orion betraying D, by disallowing him from killing Sentinel. He feels betrayed his friend isn't on his side even though he at every point has shown he doesn't want to kill Sentinel. So while I can see it this way, I think this is a lesser point for him.

Immediately after he catching him he asks "Why did you do that?" Just blaming Orion for stepping in the way and getting hurt. He can't explain it to himself at all. Before this moment he justifies violence. When anyone above his rank beats down on him or his friends he justifies it by saying "he deserved that" or "he'd had it coming". It's a (bad) coping mechanism because justifying it as deserved is easier to him than to face the reality of it.

When he realizes Sentinel's betrayal he justifies his desire to harm him with the fact that "everything was taken from him", which he continues to use to feel his desire is the correct course.

When fighting Starscream he builds that desire to harm others and even thinks of it as okay, even harming the others when fighting them away to get to Sentinel. But here. He didn't want to harm Orion. He couldn't say that Orion deserved it. Cause it was his best friend, and despite butting heads at this point, he still wanted to stay with him.

Even if he could do something in this moment, like pulling him back up, he choses to let him fall. Which I think is multiple things.

It could be a mercy, for if he fell hard it would kill him imminently, but we see him slowly die as he falls, so that's not even true. And either way he still ends up being responsible for his death.

It could just be him killing him for the sake of killing, allowing himself to fall into this violent form.

I most think that he wanted to let him die, so he couldn't see him fall further into this violent version of himself. Obviously, given he chose to step in the way, he was never going to be okay with him going down this path. The plead of "No." to him to choose another path as a final request (his final words even). So if he could choose to have Orion only know this end, to die not seeing what he further choose to do, then he'll have that. He doesn't want to have his bestfriend see him fall more and more mad. Which is how I view the "I'm done saving you". To leave off this end with a full cut, no regrets or remorse. No remembering the good. Just end it in that moment. A hope that Orion will only view him in that way (not that it works).

I don't think D/Megatron believes that Orion will come back. Even if he hoped he could. To him that was truly the end of Orion's life once he turns around.

Which leads me too:

He cries at the end of his fight with Optimus.

Aside from getting his shit rocked by his best friend. He failed to kill him again. Once again he chooses to try and end him instead of any other route. This both plays into him fully descending into violence and his desire to prevent Optimus from seeing this fall.

He also sees the one he thought was truly dead, alive again. With the way he reacts to his exile, I also feel he hoped that in this new form, his friend would forgive him. The dimming of his eyes is both him realizing the gravity of the situation but also the fact he may never be forgiven.

Side note: he's absolutely hiding his feelings here by keeping that guard up.

And Optimus' line about crossing a line, I absolutely feel is him also trying to cut off the way he feels (in relation to the "I'm done saving you")

His friend had also become the thing he claims to hate: all Primes. The one he had full faith in is now something he hates.

And while Orion had often dragged him into crazy and dangerous situations, he ultimately wanted to lift his friend up. Unfortunately it only leads to his decent.

[ikamigami]

I feel really terrible for Sun, always have but especially now, I mean think about it, ever since the day he came online it has been an unpleasant ride Any one of the things that has happened to him would break most people, like the relentless verbal, emotional, mental, and occasionally physical abuse from Old Moon both before and after separation, then Eclipse came along and became another source of pain along with constantly robbing Sun of his bodily autonomy(especially since unlike Moon he wasn't locked to only coming out in the dark), the complete lack of friendship and care from the other animatronics, save for Monty and sometimes Puppet who think he's a joke, Foxy who's just plain selfish and tries dumping his crap on people, Roxanne who just tossed him out, Golden Freddy who thinks Sun is not worth much, Bloodmoon being an active threat and source of guilt after being killed, the Creator just being a pure existential menace, getting locked inside a tiny box where he couldn't even move next to a mirror for who knows how long by Moon, the October takeover, July 16th, constantly being teleported to perilous dimensions on a whim, dimensional threats constantly coming out of the portal Moon made on a whim, then Moon's death, which he blames himself for, even though I'd argue it wasn't 100% his fault considering Eclipse was going to impale him with a sword and neither Golden Freddy or Old Moon bothered to teach him how to control his magic so he wouldn't have an outburst, and Golden didn't supervise him when Sun had to put the runes down since Sun had only one shot, Lunar getting blown up, Eclipse getting the star and making everyone hate their guts along with just being threatening by virtue of all the power he now had in his hands, all of the grief and stress...And I know I am missing a lot of other bad things But then...Things started getting better, Earth was kind and patient, New Moon had so much more empathy and integrity and even if it was rocky at the start New Moon just being there and being a decent person helped Sun start to heal even if it was off-screen which doesn't count or at least got a break, Lunar came back and started healing too, Eclipse was finally destroyed, Solar joined in, things started getting brighter, even if his issues weren't fully addressed things were looking better Even when Ruin appeared, the family managed to pull together and seemingly deal with him even if Bloodmoon and Eclipse were revived, which was stress all on its own, yet despite Ruin they managed to pull through and were okay, even when Earth got hurt things bounced back quickly ...Then Solar's death, there was great grief over Solar but it seemed things might be alright, but since then everything has gotten exponentially worse, Moon completely spiraled out of control, broke every promise he made, to so quickly transform into the opposite of who he was, who he promised to be, into someone willing to kill his own family if they get in his way, not even Old Moon dared to actually try and kill his family, or entertain the idea of making a deal with the Creator, in only a matter of a few weeks everything became a nightmare And after all that, being forced by Monty, Foxy, and Puppet to make the choice between effectively lobotomizing/resetting Moon, or killing him, either idea being too horrifying for him to consider, to the point that he's been crying all the time, and now this, having learned Moon almost killed Earth, leaving her half burned and in pain from star radiation for days, with the knowledge that had Puppet not gotten in the way she would've died It makes you wonder if he thinks anything will ever get better, or if this is all life is, a cycle of pain, isolation, and betrayal, yet the fact that he has not completely lost it, that he continues to try to love and do good despite everything... I hope things will turn out okay

Well said 👏

I don't need to add anything 🥹

Thank you, dear anon 💗

I also hope things will get better but I think that they'll go even worse before that.. after all Sun lost Moon once again.. I can't see him bouncing back from that too quickly.. 😔

But I'm sure that after the darkest of nights there will be the brightest sunset.. a new day.. and things will get better ^^