#closest thing to summer that was not summer i’ve ever come across

[m-yg93]

Solace

Pairing: KNJ x Reader

WC: 13.5k

Genre: Roommates2L

Rating: M (minors dni)

Warnings: Brief blood mention from a cut, mention of minor character death (sickness), fingering, hand job, big dick joon, belly bulge, unprotected sex, mentions of choking, creampie, dirty talk, inconsistent POV

Banner by @sugarwithtea​

Beta’d by @yoongiobsessed​ and Sara (twitter link)

Summary: Namjoon thought getting used to a new roommate would take time and adaptation but you fit yourself into his apartment with ease. He swears he only landed in your bed to keep you safe in his arms when you get spooked by the storm. Surely he can blame the eventual lack of clothing on the summer’s heat stroke.

Author’s Note: This should have been written months ago. I don’t have an excuse. Oh well, it’s here now! 

Part of the Room For Rent collab

There needs to be a word that describes the feeling of being happy for someone while simultaneously going through betrayal.

Namjoon is happy for Yoongi, of course he is, but watching him from across their kitchen table is sending an uncomfortable wave through him. He didn’t expect his oldest and closest friend to run from him, leave him in the dust, just straight up abandon him.

“Oh my God, you’re being dramatic. I’m not abandoning you, I’m moving to Gangnam. It’s just across the river! You and your freakishly thick thighs can bike to my new place in 20 minutes.”

Okay so perhaps he’s being a little dramatic but what else was he supposed to think? He and Yoongi had shared this apartment for years. There had been countless sleepless nights fueled by too much ramen, the living room littered with energy drinks as they bumped heads and helped each other brainstorm ideas for new beats. These walls hold melodies and memories, and he’s just expected to share them with someone else now?

“Plus, I told you you’re welcome to move in with Jin and I. His dad’s some CEO and the apartment is ridiculously lavish. There’s a room with your name on the door if you want it. I’m serious, Jin has this thing with plaques and has a name for every room, it’s honestly worrying. I won’t even tell you what he decided to name the master bedroom.”

Namjoon purses his lips at the thought. That was the main reason behind turning Yoongi’s offer down. He likes Jin and genuinely loves that he brings so much light into Yoongi’s naturally dreary life. Seeing Yoongi’s lips fight against a smile only to burst into the cheesiest, gummy grin while audibly groaning about his boyfriend’s terrible jokes brings a warmth to Namjoon’s chest every time. Yoongi deserves to be happy and he knows Jin is the best person for the job. But he knows full well the couple will christen every room of that apartment and he wants no part of it.

“I know,” he agrees, “But with the proximity to Yongsan park? I don’t know if I’ll ever leave this place.” The open fields just outside the doors of their apartment are the first solace he reaches for when the instrumentals in his brain just keep fighting each other, transforming into the screeching noise of the streets under his window. The trees don’t talk back but letting out his frustrations under the canopy of leaves feels like it helps anyway. “I guess I’ll have to try to pick up some extra freelance contracts to make up for having to pay the rent alone. I hate having to produce meaningless pop but it brings in decent cash when I’m in a tight spot,” he laments.

“Dude, I’m not heartless. I didn’t just decide to move out and leave you stranded. I have a friend from high school. I don’t see her often but she’s a good time and she’s looking to move out of her parents’ place now that she’s done with her degree. It’ll be easier to find work in the city. I’ve mentioned her. Y/N? I go out to dinner with her every couple months to make sure we keep in touch. She’s pretty shy and she’s quiet, you’ll barely notice she’s here.”

There’s a wave of relief that comes with knowing he won’t have to pinch pennies but it quickly turns frigid at the realization that he’ll have to live with a stranger. What if she was a morning person? What if she was a smoker and made the whole apartment fill with the lingering acrid smell? What if she killed his plants?

“I can see your brain working overtime. Breathe, I wouldn’t offer the place to someone I know doesn’t fit your vibe,” Yoongi reassures. I guess there’s not much else to do but wait and see how compatible your living situations are.

Thankfully their own music equipment had been bought separately because they’ve been bickering all day when Yoongi tries to put something in a box from their shared spaces only to have Namjoon object.

“What are you going to do with a wok, Joon? YOU DON’T COOK!”

“Jin has a plethora of different ones in his kitchen and we both know it! Maybe your friend likes to cook, huh? Maybe she’ll want the wok to make meals.”

“Make you meals, you mean?” Okay so maybe he was hoping the new roommate situation came with food because losing both Yoongi and Jin’s cooking overnight was going to hit him hard. He’ll wither away into a string bean at this rate seeing as he’s not allowed near the knives nor the stove.

Yoongi must take pity in the pleading look in his eyes because he puts down the wok with a sigh and passes to the next cupboard. Namjoon is distracted by Jin’s entrance, always loud and boisterous.

“Hey! How is packing going? I just parked the moving van downstairs but I don’t know how long I’m allowed to be there.”

“It’s fine,” Yoongi shouts from across the apartment. “I’d be done already if Joon didn’t try to steal all my shit and force me to leave them here.” He’s zooming past him, bony shoulder purposefully digging into Joon’s bicep.

“I’m monitoring the fair share of roommate assets,” he huffs. “Jin’s apartment has more shit in it than he already needs. You’re leaving me alone with only memories that you once cared for me. The least you could do is not leave with half of what’s in this measly dwelling when your sugar daddy’s got you up in a penthouse.”

They both know the jabs are jokes. Jin has more money than anyone needs, but he’s also a hard worker and spent his youth learning how to take over the business from his father when the time comes. He’d swept Yoongi off his feet with expensive dinners and outrageous gifts when they were first dating, only knowing how to flaunt his money for attention before Yoongi set him straight and taught him that he’d have to put more thought into his courting if he expected him to stick around. Clearly, he did.

Reminiscing about his, nearly ex, roommate almost distracts him enough to miss Yoongi trying to sneak a thin square package into his last remaining box.

“You’re going to take that vinyl out of here over my dead body, Yoongi!” The apartment echoes the lament in surround sound.

They do eventually make it to the van parked downstairs after Yoongi finishes taping up his boxes with only a limited amount of protest from Namjoon.. The air is humid, clothes sticking to Namjoon’s skin as he chases after the wind from Yoongi’s open window like a dog on his first car ride. Jin’s apartment building is a stark opposite from their, his, own. Whereas the outside of his building is all grey concrete walls, Jin’s is all sleek glass of floor-to-ceiling windows causing the brightness of the sun to reflect off and into Namjoon’s eyes as he looks up to the top where his friend will now be living.

The air conditioning of the lobby hits full force, the trio letting out a pleasant hum which quickly turns into a deep groan when they see the elevator boasting an out of order sign. Two pairs of sharp eyes round on Jin, malice dripping from furrowed brows.

“I swear it was working when I left this morning. They must be using all the power to keep each unit’s AC going through the heat wave. The stairs are this way.” He points to a corner of the lobby, tight corridor leading to a single door.

“The stairs? You live in the penthouse, that’s FIFTEEN flights, babe.” Yoongi is quick to point out.

“Are you trusting enough to keep all your music equipment in the van for who knows how long this heat is going to last? I know you’re going to complain about all the moisture in the air messing with your delicate settings.” Namjoon knows he’s got him there. Yoongi would suffer through a natural disaster if it meant keeping his equipment safe and at peak performance.

“You’re right,” Yoongi sighs dejectedly, head thrown backwards. “But I won’t be any help bringing the gear up. You see these legs? They’ll snap like toothpicks if I try to bring them up. Guess Biceps and Shoulders need to do all the heavy lifting.” There’s an airy lilt to his voice when he figures he’s saved himself from the worst bit.

“Doubt they’ll stay that small seeing how many times you’ll be going up and down those stairs to bring up all the light boxes while we deal with the heavy stuff. You’ll have lungs of steel with all that cardio, buddy. I’m sure Jin will appreciate how long he can hold his dick in your throat without you needing to breathe after that.” Namjoon sends him a salacious wink.

Yoongi’s face, which had been a flushed shade of pink from the heat, drains immediately when he realizes the position he’s put himself in but Namjoon doesn’t let him change his mind. He just claps a hand on his shoulder and turns around to get to the van and pick up the first console they’ll need to bring up to Yoongi’s new designated studio space.

Namjoon regrets showing Friends to Jin after today. If he has to hear ‘PIVOT’ one more forsaken time he might choke that windshield wiper laugh right out his friend’s throat. His whole body is aching when he sets his ass down on Jin’s plush couch, finally tasting a bite of heaven after all those steps but it can’t be savored long.

“Get up.” Yoongi’s voice breaks through his needed rest. “The elevator mishap made us take way longer than planned and we’re already late to pick up Y/N.” If anyone sees him fighting back tears that’s none of their business.

The drive out to the suburbs of Seoul is peaceful, the population seems to have holed up inside and away from the sun’s rays. They pull up to a nice two-story home. Namjoon can’t see much into the property since it’s surrounded by tall brick walls, but it’s unnecessary as he can see the silhouette of a young woman waiting outside the gate, piles of boxes at her feet.

They all pour out of the truck, Yoongi darts out first to meet her halfway where she throws herself in his arms. There’s a lot of squealing and Namjoon isn’t sure from who it’s coming out of in the mess of limbs. They separate and approach where he and Jin had waited by the vehicle.

“I’m Y/N, you must be Jin!” There’s a hand out ready to be shaken but it’s presented in front of the wrong man.

“Actually, Jin is this one,” Yoongi corrects, taking your wrist and moving it to the correct person.

“Oh my God, that’s embarrassing. I just figured it was the big one. I’ve heard about your muscle kink enough once you figured out you were into men that I just-- You know what? I’m going to shut up now. Hi, sorry about that. Nice to meet you.” There’s a nervous giggle in between words that’s instantly endearing.

Jin doesn’t seem offended, laughing alongside her. “No worries, he’s plenty satisfied without the beefiness of his teenage crushes.” He wiggles his eyebrows comically which has her chuckling and Yoongi whining.

“This is Namjoon, your new roommate. Joon, this is Y/N.” It’s his turn to shake hands, your fingers so thin and delicate around his much bigger grasp. He takes the time to really take you in, looking down at you; wide grin and smooth skin that spans from your neck down into your… Nope, face!

“You have a nice face.” For a lyricist he sure did have a way with words.

“Thank you?” Your eyes trail to the side where Yoongi stands, eyes deadpan and mouth shut tight.

“He grows on you, I swear. Get in the car, we’ll grab your boxes.” Yoongi says as he passes in front of you with an icy stare towards Namjoon. Okay, so he could have made a better first impression.

You don’t have many boxes which makes sense. The apartment is furnished and Yoongi had left his bedroom set for you since he wouldn’t need it at Jin’s. He remembers leaving his parent’s house with barely anything. It had taken a while for Yoongi and him to make the apartment seem like people actually lived in it. They’d spent far too long eating cup noodles while sitting on the floor in the corner of the kitchen.

Jin takes his place behind the wheel, Yoongi slipping in beside him in the passenger seat. The earlier ride in the backseat wasn’t so bad for Namjoon since he could sit crookedly to fit his long legs behind the couple’s seats in front of him but your presence beside him forces his knees to hit the back of Yoongi’s seat.

“Can you push your seat up a bit? Your little legs don’t need that much space,” Namjoon shoots ahead of him.

“And just for that comment your giant ass and long limbs can suck it up. Respect your elders, brat,” Yoongi snaps back. Maybe he deserved that one.

He sends you a sheepish look and an awkward smile as he spreads open his thighs lewdly. His knee hits yours despite you sticking your legs together demurely, hands politely sitting in your lap. The touch attracts your gaze and Namjoon can track your eyes as they drag up the bare skin of his quad, past the hem where the material of his shorts dig into his thighs, and settles just a little too long where both his legs meet. He can practically feel your stare burning a hole into his groin, a heat expanding through his body.

He doesn’t even realize when he lets out an uneasy cough and you’re quick to look away with a start when you hear it; clearly having been caught in your little perversion. The flush that builds on your cheeks is shameful enough that he doesn’t mention anything more, only locking away the memory of you blushing and embarrassed for later.

Namjoon is thankful that with four pairs of arms there won’t be a need to do multiple trips for your boxes. Jin sends you and Yoongi off with a box each but loads Namjoon’s arms with three; enough to block his view so he has to peek around them to see where he’s going. There might not be many boxes but the ones he’s been given are heavy enough to make his arms shake underneath their weight. He’s absolutely going to blame that on having had to haul all of Yoongi’s belongings during the day and definitely not on the fact he’s weak. He goes to the gym regularly!

“Thanks for helping! Just leave them by the door, I’ll take care of unloading everything,” you call from across the apartment. Yoongi must be giving you a tour of the place.

Namjoon kicks off his shoes and crashes head first into the couch, his big body halfway dropping off of it. All his muscles ache and he’s sticky with sweat. His lids close, reaching for some rest. His stomach rumbles, the memory of breakfast fading. There’s soft footsteps sneaking up on him. He’s trained himself enough to catch Yoongi coming. He’s broken enough things when his roommate suddenly appeared by his side and gave him a spook.

“Don’t think I’m an idiot, Joon. I could see the way you looked at her. I’m only going to say this once, don’t fuck my friend.” His voice is almost sinister as it whispers in his ear. Namjoon’s eyes quickly open wide. He wasn’t looking at you in any sort of way and he was about to defend himself, mouth open with a denial on his tongue. He doesn’t have the chance since you pop around the corner, seeing them both with their heads too close to each other, Yoongi’s glare facing Namjoon’s incredulous look.

“Everything good here?” you ask.

Yoongi’s expression shifts, gummy smile on full display but Namjoon still sees the daggers in his eyes. “Yep, I was just saying bye to Joon. Jin’s already back at the van and we need to get it back to the vendor. Text me if you need anything Y/N. And Joon? Remember what I said.” He and Jin take their leave, surely to start desecrating their new shared space.

“Okay? Is it just me or was he being weird?” You look back at Namjoon but there’s only a shrug of his shoulders as your reply. “Alright, well I’m going to start unpacking then.” You’re just about to turn tail when you can hear the growl coming from Namjoon again. “Ah, you must be hungry, you’ve been going around the city all day. Is there anything already in the kitchen?”

“No, we went through all of it when Yoongi and Jin decided to have a goodbye dinner this week. You get started on unpacking and I’ll run down to the store for some stuff. I think we’re both too tired to do much effort but I can grab ingredients for some decent ramen.” Namjoon slips his shoes back on and running out the door as soon as he finishes speaking.

Luckily, there’s a small family owned market just down the street from the apartment. Mrs. Park is going to be sad to hear that her ‘little dumpling’, as she called Yoongi, won’t be visiting her anymore. She’s mostly used to seeing Namjoon anyway. Yoongi may have been the one cooking but Joon was always the one sent off on errands for any ingredients that were missing midway through the meal preparation.

The bell chimes above him when he walks into the little shop. Mrs. Park doesn’t even look up from her newspaper, head staring firmly into her lap. There’s a low buzz emitting from the artificial lights mixing with the music that’s playing in the shop, something Namjoon doesn’t know, a beat that hasn’t been popular in half a century.

The aisles are familiar and he grabs the ingredients absentmindedly, throwing things in the handheld basket hooked onto the crook of his arm. Green onions from the produce section, a carton of eggs and a hunk of cheese from the dairy section, and spam from the canned goods area.

Mrs. Park finally lifts her eyes from whatever news story that had her attention and gives him a warm smile that reaches her eyes. He should give his grandma a call. A smooth wrinkled hand grabs his groceries one by one, slowly bringing them closer for inspection. Her frail finger punches into the keys of the register.

His eyes wander while his items disappear from the counter and into a bag beneath the surface. The sky has turned a slate grey from an overbearing cloud covering the sun, bringing the vibrance of outside down to a dull.

Against the window is a shelf filled with flowers. Namjoon has often seen people grabbing a bouquet as they wait for their total. He remembers a man with a tie midway undone, suit jacket flapping behind him as he rushed out frantically. A forgotten anniversary he suspected. Just last week, there was a small child tugging at his father’s sleeve, pointing at a particularly bright blossom and requesting to bring it home to his mother. The memory brings a small smile to his lips.

He doesn’t contemplate long before reaching for a lonely white rose in a near empty bucket. He remembers certain symbolism from the time he read The Language of Flowers. Purity, innocence, a new beginning, and reverence. He thinks he catches a mischievous glint in Mrs. Park’s eye as she hands him the bag of groceries in one hand while the rose remains in his other.

The universe allows him only long enough to step out of the shop before the skies open up with a loud clap and water erupts in a downpour. Shock overtakes him and he freezes on the spot as he lets the fat water droplets sink into the fabric of his clothes. The cold immediately seepsinto his skin and settles in his bones, eyes shut tight and mouth open.

The loud rumble of distant thunder urges him to start moving. The plastic of the bag is slippery in his grasp and there’s a stinging pain in his palm from where the rose’s thorns dig in. There’s an uncomfortable squeak from the leather of his sandals with every heavy step he takes. As he sprints the few blocks back to the apartment, the loud slap slap slap of his foot hitting the pavement.

The door of the apartment slams into the wall as Namjoon rushes to get inside, the doorknob undoubtedly leaving a mark from the force at which Namjoon has opened it to throw himself inside.

“Namjoon? Is everything okay?” you call from the living room. “I’m sorry for the mess, I’m trying to fit in my own books across your collection. I don’t want to mess up the system you’ve got going on.”

“Yeah, all good, just wasn’t paying attention,” he reassures.

Your head pops out from the hallway to take inventory of the situation yourself, not quite trusting the waver in his voice. “Oh god, it started raining? I was so in my bubble that I didn’t even notice. You’re soaked! Let me grab you a towel.” You’re off to the bathroom before he can even thank you, already back to exchange the flower still in his grasp for the towel you hand him.

“I hope it didn’t take a beating on my way back over here,” he says, worry tainting the edge of his voice.

“No, it’s perfect. Thank you. Do you know if you have any vases?”

“I’m sure Yoongi’s left some in the kitchen. Jin had a habit of getting him a new bouquet every month. Don’t tell Yoongi I said this but he’d blush every time despite all the grumbling he did about it. Happened every month for two years, like clockwork,” he teases.

“That sounds about right. Yoongi will never admit it but I know how much praise and appreciation means to him. I’m glad Jin gives him that. I’ll go find it.” You’re turning tail and heading into the kitchen in search of the vase.

He pats himself dry enough so that he’s no longer dripping on the floor before he follows you in. You’re in front of an open cabinet, head tilted back to look at the top shelf of it. Your hand is stretched to its capacity, boosted by the tip of your toes, one knee nearly hiking onto the countertop to give yourself enough reach.

He truly only means to help when he sneaks in behind you to grab at the vase. He doesn’t expect to catch you off guard, sending you backwards and off balance with a squeak. His grasp abandons its path towards the top shelf and instead redirects to land on your hips, pinning you against his chest.

You’re taken by surprise at the strong hands grabbing onto your side, a hard wall of muscle at your back, heat radiating from his skin, his wet clothes dampening yours.

“Are you okay?” he asks, breath just a little too close to your ear.

There’s a hitch in your voice when you reply hastily, “Mhm! All good. I’ll let you get that actually. I’m going to change. My clothes are gross from today. You should too, you’re going to catch a chill if you stay in those wet clothes. Your shirt’s so soaked I can see right through it. Not that I was looking! I’ll just- right.”

You’re running off before he can articulate a thought, the door of your room slamming shut behind you. He’s nearly certain he can hear an embarrassed groan through the wall despite that. He does get the vase down and fills it with water, dropping the rose into it before he slips into his room as well.

The rain will be good for the heat in the long run but as it stands it just permeates the apartment with heavy humidity. He grabs a pair of comfortable shorts and a tank top to change into. He passes next to your room on his way to the bathroom. He takes the time to stop and knock at your door.

“Y/N? Do you need to use the bathroom? I’m going to jump in the shower really quick.”

“Go ahead! I’ll take one after dinner.”

His clumsy fingers struggle with the lock behind him, clothes falling onto the floor. The bluetooth speaker that has a permanent residence in the bathroom is turned on, a playlist going at random. He makes sure to adjust the temperature of the water, slightly colder than he usually would. It’s absolutely to combat the heat and definitely not the memory of your body pressed against his in the kitchen; soft under his hands and plump against where his crotch pushed in under the curve of your ass.

Oh god, focus on something else. Listen to the music. The beat is uplifting and he finds himself singing along to the lyrics. A popular song from a girl group member. He recalls Yoongi mentioning he’s worked on something similar.

He lets the tepid water run down his body, hands quick and rough where he scrubs the soap into his skin, not letting them stay in one spot too long to melt into the feeling. Yep, he definitely needs to have it colder. It’s near shivering levels of frigid when he ducks his head under the stream to rinse the shampoo out of his hair.

He’s nearly forgotten about the shape of your body against him, mind preoccupied with the soprano of the singer in his ears. Pop pop, pop, you want it. His body responds as if with muscle memory from seeing this song trend with its choreo everywhere online. His hands take turns pointing at an open hand and back again, fists then popping as if miming fireworks going down a zig zag pattern.

The haunting thoughts of the kitchen eventually disperse enough for him to exit the stream of water and change into the clean, dry clothes. You’re already in the kitchen humming to yourself once he leaves the room followed by a puff of steam.

“Do you need me to help with anything?” he proposes.

“Yeah, that’d be great. Can you slice up the spam and drop the eggs into the water? There’s a pot already boiling.” Put eggs in water and cut up some meat. Sure, he can do that.

The eggs may have cracked a little when he quite literally dropped them into the pot but that’s fine. A little hard boiled never hurt anyone. He swears he’s extra careful when you hand him a knife and let him stand in front of the cutting board. Just going to very daintily hold down the spam and slowly bring the knife down-

“You’re holding it upside down. Sharp edge towards the bottom and make sure you curl your knuckles in so you don’t nick yourself.” Right, of course, he knew the knife was upside down. Just making sure you did, hah.

He manages to make some slightly uneven slices until about halfway through the block but eventually there’s just not enough space for his big sausage fingers to hold on and the knife just slips…right into his palm.

“Ah, shit!” He jumps back, letting the knife clatter to the floor. His uninjured hand keeps the pressure onto the wound as small river of red runs between his fingers. He’s taken by surprise and lets himself be manhandled to the sink before his wounded hand is pushed under the cold, running water.

“I should have figured why Yoongi was so ominously telling me where the first aid kit was in the kitchen. And why he asked how often I cooked at home.” There’s shuffling behind him and a small hand sneaking its way between his body and the sink.

“Take it out, I’ll pat it dry and put a bandage on.” He’s careful to keep his hand stable as your delicate fingers patch him up. A soft pressure with a gauze and a more instant one for the wrap that goes around his palm.

“My friend JK is going to think I took up boxing and ask me to go to the gym with him if he sees this.” He tries to laugh it off, bringing humor into his near amputation.

“I don’t think you need any incentive to go to the gym.” Your eyes are trailing up his arm, stopping at his bicep and following all the way to the middle of his chest. The flex he pushes is completely accidental and was absolutely not to show off the progress he’s been building.

“I take care of myself, I guess.”

“Right.” There’s a small laugh in your voice. “Go take care of yourself, away from the kitchen. I’ll handle the rest.”

He lets himself be shooed out of the hot space, out into the living room where he sees your earlier comment about a mess. There’s books all over the floor in little towers looking for a home on his already overly compacted bookshelf. He picks a few of his bigger tomes to rehouse to his room which allows space for yours to make themselves at home.

He doesn’t notice how long he’s been calculating which books need to be relocated until he hears the clatter of bowls hitting the coffee table behind him.

“I figured we could eat in here today, more casual and all. Thank you for helping me make sense of where to put my stuff. I didn’t want to impose.”

“This is your home too now, you deserve to have space for your things. Yoongi wasn’t much of a reader. Thank you for dinner. I’m afraid you’re going to be in charge of feeding me a lot. I can always just order in but Yoongi was always on my ass for spending money on takeout.” He has the humility to look ashamed at his incapacity to nurture himself.

“No worries, it was kind of implied when he told me to take his spot. I like cooking, so I don’t mind, really. Tell me more about yourself though, I only know what Yoongi’s told me which is pretty much only that you produce music like he does. You’ve got an eye for art from what I can see of the prints on the walls.”

“Ah, actually those are all mine,” he blushes and points to a camera that takes a place on one of the higher shelves. “I like biking around and I figured it was a shame to see all the pretty landscapes without getting to commemorate them properly so I got into photography. I’m not a professional or anything but I enjoy it. I’m actually going to Comic Con this weekend with a group of my friends. They’re cosplaying and they wanted someone around to take pictures of them in costume. JK's actually got a pretty great Spiderman thing going on and it works for him with all the, you know, muscles and spandex.” He’s gesturing a little wildly over his body, as if you’re familiar with Jungkook’s physique.

“I don’t but I can imagine.” Your eyes are following where his hands had gestured over him, gaze roaming over the muscles he’s boasting himself. “You don’t happen to have any spandex hiding in your closet yourself?”

“Nothing like him, riding shorts for when I take particularly long bike rides. I don’t tend to favor it, they really ride up.” His sentence ends in an uncomfortable chuckle and he avoids your view, completely missing how your eyes have started to glaze over.

The small talk fades after that, replaced with the sound of chopsticks hitting the edge of bowls and the occasional slurps. You hold your chopsticks loosely between bites, your phone in your spare hand just mindlessly scrolling.

There’s a familiar tune coming softly from your direction, a low hum of a melody that triggers Namjoon’s receptors. He can place it pretty quickly, pop pop pop uh uh.

His hands take on a mind of their own. He doesn’t stop chewing as his fists go through the movement. Open palm, point, switch, zigzag.

He wouldn’t have even not realized what he was doing if a little giggle hadn’t interrupted the flow of the song. He freezes, eyes widening. It’s a slow pan of his eyes to look into his peripheral, as if not moving his head would somehow render him invisible and able to melt away from the embarrassing situation he’s caught himself in.

You’re doing your best to hold it in, lips nearly completely sucked into your mouth, teeth forcing them closed. He appreciates the effort but he can admit the jig is up. He picks his chopsticks back up with a little cough, gathering his bearings.

“It’s a catchy song,” he defends.

“Oh absolutely, it gets stuck in your head so easily. Even when hearing it off key and through the rush of running water,” you tease.

He pretends to be offended by that. “I’m a producer! I’ll have you know I have great pitch.”

“Of course, someone should tell Nayeon that she’s in the wrong key then. How embarrassing for her to be performing it that way.”

You both dissolve into laughter after that. The silence that follows feels a lot lighter than it previously had been and he breathes a little easier.

“Leave your dishes in the sink, I’ll take care of it in exchange for the cooking labour. I rarely break things anymore. Even if Yoongi won’t let me forget about his favorite mug. I still insist that the shape wasn’t ergonomic and that’s why it slipped out of my hand. He was so mad he refused to drink any coffee that day and knowing Yoongi you know how that was more a punishment for me than it was for himself,” he shares the memory of how grumpy Yoongi had been that day. They must have restarted the same beat half a dozen times. Suffice to say it wasn’t a very productive day and Namjoon owed him a new mug of his choosing.

Your first night together was fruitful. You’ve managed to unpack and meld your belongings with his, have dinner - where he didn’t kill himself in the kitchen - and bond over some banter. You’ve practically ingrained yourself in his life already and Namjoon isn’t sure if that’s good or a little terrifying. He’s not the type to usually feel comfortable with a stranger so quickly. He’s glad Yoongi had you take his place, he doubts it would have been this pleasurable if he had had to place an ad online.

There’s a ghost of a smile stuck on his face when he closes the door to his bedroom. Being alone in his room brings forth the thoughts he’d pushed aside back to the forefront. His computer monitor lights up the space, calling him back. The mixing board on his desk blares a signal he can’t ignore. He has a project to finish and the deadline is knocking at his door incessantly. He sits in his chair with a sigh and slips his headphones over his ears, blocking out the loud patter of raindrops on his window.

He awakes with a start. His back is sore and his skin is damp with sweat. He’s too old to be falling asleep on his desk like this, he’s going to feel it in the morning. The room is pitch black around him. A quick jiggle of the mouse tells him the computer is dead and there’s a hint of panic at the thought of having lost his work. Rationale takes over to remind him that it automatically gets stored on the cloud at consistent intervals. They’ve learned their lesson too many times before implementing that.

There’s an odd irritation at the back of his mind and he realizes the thrum of the AC is missing. Ah, no power. The storm must have knocked it out. His muscles scream from the stretch and there’s more than a few uncomfortable cracks when he gets up and extends his arms above his head. He slips out of his clothes in hopes that more skin in contact with any air might help him cool down. Besides, he always sleeps in his boxers anyway. The air has dried up his throat and he can feel his body begging for water. He grabs the latest water bottle to litter his desk, tips it all the way upside down but not a drop comes.

He hopes he can traverse the apartment to the kitchen silently. Between his heavy footsteps and the stubborn squeaky floorboard outside his bedroom he’s worried about waking you. He sends a silent prayer into the universe that you’re a deep sleeper.

He does hit the floorboard, sending a creek into the night and he freezes for a second but no angry outbursts come from your room to scold him. He’s slowly taking a step in front of the other, carefully moving his weight from one foot to the next, the little smack of his sole hitting the wooden floor melding into the sounds of the rain still pouring outside.

The pressure from the faucet sends the water stream beating onto the metal of the sink and he hopes the curse he lets out fades into the night. He downs two whole glasses before he feels sated and prepares for the slow trek back to his room.

He’s just outside your door when the apartment flashes as lightning touches down in the distance. Namjoon stops moving as the roll of thunder comes quickly behind, nearly covering the strangled gasp from the other side of the door.

“Y/N? Are you okay in there?" The door to Yoongi’s room always had trouble latching since Namjoon drunkenly threw himself into the frame thinking he was heading into his own bed one night.

There’s a small crack where he can press his ear to. He holds his breath, straining to hear above the rattle of the heavy rain against the windows. For a second he believes he must’ve imagined it, or perhaps you’d shifted in your sleep.

He has one foot in the air, prepared to shuffle back to his own room when he hears it again. A choked sob hidden between the pitter patter of drops slamming against the glass.

He’s more insistent this time when he calls your name and pairs it with a soft knock against the wood of your door.

The noise seems to give you a spook because he swears you let out a high pitched ‘EEK’ in your surprise. There’s no additional verbal answer so he takes his chances on turning the knob and poking his head inside.

“Y/N? It’s okay, it’s just me. It’s Namjoon,” he reassures.

He can’t see a thing, the room is pure darkness. The streetlights outside have gone down with the rest of the power grid so he can’t tell if you’re hurt or might need help.

“Joonie?” There’s a soft voice coming from where he knows the bed is, muffled and timid.

“Yeah, can I come in?” he asks.

“Yeah,” comes an answer, meek and nearly whispered.

He hadn’t come into this room since you unpacked so he’s careful to take small, careful steps towards the bed, nearly bent in half with his arms out to feel for any furniture you might have moved into the path. He taps the bed tentatively when he finally reaches it, feeling long limbs under his palm.

He shyly takes his hands off you and makes his way towards the headboard, knees hitting the edge of the mattress as guidance. He reaches out again, expecting to find you but he only feels more blanket covered lumps.

“Are you hiding under the blanket?”

No words come but the hard shape under his palm moves in a nodding motion. He sinks down, kneeling onto the floor a little harder than he expected. Difficult to judge distance in the darkness.

“Can I pull the comforter down? Can you tell me what’s wrong?”

The fabric moves under his touch until the feeling of goose down turns into silky hair. He moves his fingers down, grazing your ears until they reach your cheeks, damp and hot against his skin.

“Are you crying? What’s going on? Is moving away from home for the first time getting to you?” It definitely had for him at first. He’d go back to his parents’ house every night to have his mother’s cooking for dinner and only started spending the evenings at the apartment after his younger sister had mocked him about not being able to stay too far from his mother’s comfort.

You let out a shamed whine below him. “No…” He stays silent, waiting to see if you’ll share more. “The thunder woke me up and then I tried to turn on the light but it wouldn’t work. And-”

Lightning interrupts you and as the room flashes in sudden light Namjoon sees your face for an instant. Your eyes are wide, laced with red from the tears but one thing he can tell for sure is that in that second- you’re absolutely terrified.

Your breath gets shaky and there’s a twitch in your hands where he can tell you struggle not to throw the blanket back over your head to escape.

“Shhh, it’s okay. You’re afraid of the storm, I get it.” His grip on you tightens when he feels you tremble as the thunder rolls behind.

“You can say it. It’s stupid to be scared of storms. I’m just a big weenie.”

“I’d never call you a weenie, Y/N. You know, my friend JK is afraid of microwaves. Runs out of the kitchen and hides across his apartment every time he needs to heat something up. He’s convinced they’re going to blow up and take him with them in the blast.”

You snort, which is followed by a loud slap of skin on skin that he can only assume is you covering your mouth in response to the noise that just escaped. He’s huffing out his own chuckle in response. Adorable.

“Okay, so what are you afraid of then Mr. Tough Guy?” You’re more combative now. He’ll take that over the fearful demeanor you had a minute ago.

“Me? Hmm, I don’t think there’s anything too unusual. I’m not super fond of spiders, I suppose?”

“Spiders? But Yoongi told me you’re obsessed with crabs. They’re basically water spiders. They walk similarly and they’ve even got more legs!” Oh, you’re heated now but you’ve hit him where it hurts.

“How dare you!” The offended gasp he lets out overtakes the drone of rain coming from outside. “Crabs are cute little friends. I have half a mind to walk out and leave you alone in this storm after that.” He fakes getting up but a small hand digs into the flesh of his bicep.

“Don’t! Please. I’m sorry, crabs are adorable, you’re right. I was just kidding. Don’t leave.” He can hear the fear engulfing your voice in your plea.

“No, no, it’s okay. I was just joking. I’ll stay as long as you need.” He didn’t mean to trigger your panic again, especially since he had just gotten you to calm down a bit.

“You might be here a while then, it doesn’t seem to want to let up anytime soon.”

“No worries. Let me just get off my knees. I won’t be able to walk tomorrow if I spend all night bent like this.” He makes to switch to sitting on the floor but you stop him.

“Do you… uhm, want to lay on the bed? There’s more than enough room for two. I’m not like Rose, that bitch.”

“Are you sure? I can sit here, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” You’d known each other barely 12 hours. He didn’t want to appear pushy in your vulnerable state. He’s enough of a gentleman to know to make space for the women in his life to ease themselves into his presence in a manner where they feel safe.

“Don’t worry. Yoongi told me enough about you for me to know you’re the least scary man on this planet. Only way you’d hurt me is if you fell on top of me, which I’ve been warned may happen more than I expect so be careful climbing in.” He feels you scooch over to the other side of the bed, leaving a wide open space for him to settle into.

There’s still some hesitation that weighs heavily in his limbs but when he sees how your body jumps when another bolt touches down and illuminates the room his resistance melts away. His movements are slow as he eases himself onto the mattress.

“Do you have enough space?” you ask.

If he’s being honest he’s certain half his body is teetering off the edge but he’s more concerned about overcrowding you. “I’m fine, don’t worry. You should try to sleep, you had a long day.”

You’re answering with a half hearted mumble and the room is overtaken with the battering of rain on the windows. Namjoon stays alert, hoping to feel your breathing even out to indicate that sleep has claimed you but it never comes.

“Are you still awake?” Your voice is barely a whisper and if he wasn’t specifically keeping an ear out, he would’ve missed it completely.

He turns onto his side, body now settled fully onto the bed with no risk of suddenly tumbling out with a wrong move. “Yeah, what’s up?”

“Can we just talk for a bit? I think that’ll help me calm down.”

“Of course, as long as you don’t insult my little crustacean friends again.”

“Were you one of those kids that would do that shark chant? ‘Fish are friends, not food.’”

“Nah, Pixar and Bruce are wrong for that. Fish are food, crabs are friends.”

“You’ll have to give me a history lesson as to why kiddie Joonie came to that conclusion if Nemo wasn’t the inspiration.” There it is again, Joonie. Namjoon huffs out a little chuckle at hearing it, letting the nickname slip under it.

“Oh,” you gasp. “I’m so sorry, I should have asked before calling you that. Do you not like it? I’ll stick to your name. Or should I be using honorifics, oppa?”

Oh, he’ll have to unpack how his stomach flips with that last part but now isn’t the time for sudden self discoveries.

“No, no! Don’t worry, it’s cute. I just wasn’t expecting it. My friends usually stick to just Joon but you can get special roomie privileges.”

“I fear you’ll one day regret that. I’m going to be so annoying from now on.” He can hear how your words are blanketed in a mischievous teasing, and he believes you but won’t admit defeat that easily.

“You’ll have to give Tae a run for his money. If he pairs up with Jimin then they’re insufferable. Hobi is a saint for having them both under the same roof with him. You don’t know the guys yet but you’ll figure it out soon enough.”

It’s easy to imagine you already melding into his little group of misfits. He thinks back to dinner when you’d teased him about listening to that ‘girly’ song, and he knows he’ll soon be babysitting four wiley dongsaengs instead of three. Sometimes five when Jungkook manages to set Seokjin off. He doesn’t realize the smile that sets itself on his lips and it’s too dark for you to comment on it.

The bed shifts and your voice is suddenly closer, indicating you’d mirrored his movements and were now facing him.

“You talk about them a lot, your friends. Yoongi does too. You must all be really close.”

“We are, like brothers honestly. I have a younger sister but meeting Yoongi was the first time I felt like I had a hyung. He’s not much for declarations of affection but I love that dude.”

“He knows. You guys are all he talks about besides his music. He loves you, too. I can tell.” Namjoon never doubted that but it’s always nice to hear.

“What about you? Do you have any siblings?” It should be an innocent question but the silence that follows feels heavy and loaded.

“I did. My little brother. He was five. He spiked a bad fever one night and had to be rushed to the hospital. My father packed him up in the middle of the night while I slept. My mother woke me up at 4 am in hysterics. We drove to the emergency room and I watched my parents fall to the floor from across the room as the doctor told them he didn’t make it. I couldn’t hear what they said from that far away but it was obvious. I’m haunted by the sounds of the storm that was raging outside as the windows shaked around me. Acute bacterial meningitis.”

“Fuck, Y/N. I’m-”

“Don’t,” you interrupt. “Don’t say you’re sorry. You have no idea how many times I’ve heard that. It doesn’t bring him back, nothing will. I’m just left with distant memories of what his laugh sounded like, and this stupid fear of storms that just reminds me of the day my family broke apart.” Your words are being spit vehemently, your throat clearly closing up as it tries to choke back sobs.

Namjoon’s arms reach out to scoop you into his chest where you lose it in earnest. You hide into the crook of his neck as he can feel your resolve break. Tears hit his skin but he says nothing. There is nothing to say, he knows. You need something to hold onto as you let the emotions run their course and that’s something he can be for you.

It’s not too long before you catch your breath, great big gasps helping your body to settle back into rhythm.

“God, I’m so sorry. Having a breakdown because of some rain, trauma dumping, having a full breakdown. I must be making a great first impression as a new roommate.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m just glad you’re able to let it out. Bottling all that up would cause more damage.”

“Who knew I was shacking up with a therapist. It’s the same thing my counselor told me.” You’re back to teasing and Namjoon lets out the tension in his muscles that he didn’t realize he was holding. Your giggles fade off into a comfortable silence. The rain is still loud against the glass but the trembling that shook yo uhas subsided.

“‘Joonie? Can you hold me until I fall asleep?” Your voice is shy, the request bold for someone you barely know but he agrees without apprehension.

He expects you to burrow back into his chest as you’re already nestled in from your impromptu need for comfort but you surprise him by turning around and slotting yourself against him, back pushing into his front.

“Need to sleep on my left side. You don’t mind, do you?” After your revelation, he’d give you the moon if you asked, some spooning was an easy favor to fulfill.

He simply hums in agreement not entirely trusting himself not to put his foot in his mouth at that moment. He allows you to push back until you’re comfortable and slings his arm over your waist, letting his hand hang limp over your abdomen, careful not to push any unspoken boundaries.

You take it upon yourself to scoop his arm up and hold it close to you. Namjoon closes his fingers into a fist to avoid any accidental groping since his hand now rests on your chest, just above your breasts. He can feel the curve of them against his wrist, the mounds pressing into his forearm.

No! He needs to send his mind elsewhere. He tries to focus on the patter of the drops on the window. Pit pat. Would a roll of thunder fit into any of the songs he’s currently working on? What about the clap where the beat could drop? Anything to distract him from how warm you are beside him. The humidity of the storm only aggravates the heat that seeps through his skin, making it clammy and nearly wet. You, wet against him… NO! The heat is pooling at his crotch, the pressure rising when his blood is sent southward to fill a chub in his boxers. No, stop!

He’s trying desperately to inch his pelvis away from where your ass was resting against him. The universe is truly out for his demise because another round of lightning and thunder sends you jumping, forcefully seeking the hardness of his body against you. The grip on his arm turns vicious, your nails digging into his skin and your rear flies backwards in search of a seat and finds an unexpected obstacle.

Namjoon isn’t sure which sound rings louder. The gasp you let out at your discovery or his moan as his hips involuntarily thrust up against your ass. He doesn’t dare even breathe. What were you thinking? That your new roommate was a giant pervert? That he was taking advantage of the situation when all you asked for was some comfort in a time of need? Would you tell Yoongi? His hyung might be smaller than him but he has no doubt the older man could and would beat his ass into next week for this.

He seems to be the only one spiraling into a panic because instead of screaming and shoving him out of bed you only push back again. Your movements are tentative, slowly adding pressure and grinding your ass in circles against him as if trying to memorize the shape of him against your cheeks.

He slips his arm out of your grasp to bring his hand against your hip, pushing it down to pin you into the mattress and stop the maddening teasing.

“Y/N...” His voice comes out rough in between his teeth, a clear warning.

“Are you-?” You don’t need to finish your sentence with words, opting instead to push against his hold and roll your hips backwards again to feel the length behind you.

“I definitely am now since you can’t lie still. I’m trying to comfort you right now, so I am asking very politely to please have some mercy on me and go to sleep.”

For a second, Namjoon thinks he may have been too harsh.You’re quiet against him and he hopes he hasn’t triggered another round of distress with his tone.

The worries ebb when he feels your hand sneak behind to cup where his dick pushing against the fabric of his underwear. His eyes close when the pressure against the head sends little jolts of electricity flying through his body, a loud moan accompanying them.

“What if this is the comfort I need right now? Will you give it to me?” There’s a confidence in your voice now that had been missing when the sun went down. Namjoon is glad to hear it even if it beckons his doom.

He tries his best not to move, simply letting you tease along his length, your fingers wrapped around his cock through the thin fabric barrier. The drag is dry and nearly painful but he still twitches and wets a patch when your hand comes to squeeze at the head at every stroke.

You seem to take the lack of fighting back on his part as encouragement, and you push at the waistband to finally get under his boxers and meet the feverish skin hiding under them. He helps you reach your goal by shimmying the fabric down and under his balls, freeing his cock to let you handle it as you wish.

Your hand disappears for a second only to come back wet with spit and making the first tug of skin on skin both tortuous and heavenly. He can’t help but meet your fist with a thrust, precum dripping into your hand and easing the next strokes.

You’re showing your impatience when you grab his hand from your hip to aim it towards the waistband of your own underwear. You let him figure out the rest and go back to focus on jerking him off, a little harder this time as your hips roll against thin air.

He doesn’t keep you waiting too long, slipping his hand into your panties, realizing you’ve also opted out of sleeping with bottoms. His fingers plunge low and he’s surprised at how wet you are.

“All this just from rubbing against my dick a little bit?”

“No, I’ve been wet since you pulled me into your arms. Stupid thick biceps and big tits. Figured you’d notice it wasn’t just my eyes that were leaking.” Your words come staccato while your hips desperately try to chase his fingers.

He gives you what you seek and dips his middle finger into your heat. Your muscles contract around him, hot and so wet.

“Fuck, more,” you beg. You’re doing your best to clench around him but there’s not enough to bring relief.

“Impatient.” He wants this to last. He’s barely just gotten his hands on you after all the tension of the day finally snapping. He wants to savor it but you seem to have other plans.

“Namjoon, if you don’t start fingering me properly I’ll kick you out of this bed and do it myself.”

In any other situation he’d probably call that bluff, but he doesn’t want to risk you going through with it. He adds a second finger to your core and gets to work on a punishing rhythm. He uses the angle to his advantage and digs the heel of his palm against your clit to grind onto it with every thrust of his hand.

Your threats devolve into mewls. You’re trying to keep up your own pace against his dick but your grasp is loosening and losing rhythm. Hedoesn’t care. It allows him to focus on making you lose your mind, but you don’t seem to agree with the imbalance because you’re tugging him closer to you, tip bumping into the cotton of your panties. The need overtakes you and you’re ripping his fingers out of your pussy, letting it clench around nothing and mourning the loss. Your legs clamp shut to allow you to reach around and pull the fabric away from your entrance. You push back against his cock, trying to guide him through the darkness.

“In. Want you inside.” Your words aren’t quite begging but Namjoon can hear the plea clearlyin your voice.

“Fuck, Y/N. I should stretch you out more. I don’t think you should take it like this.” He knows he’s above average and he’s unsure that between the darkness and your horny haze you've realized quite what you’re up against in the short span of the mutual masturbation session that’s happened.

“I felt it. I know you’ve got a big dick. I don’t care. Fuck. Me.”

He hesitates to argue with you. He doesn’t want to hurt you but he can feel the warm wet heat enticing the head of his cock and it’s hard to ignore the call. He loses his battle and sinks himself into you. He brings his hand back to your hip and holds himself still as you shake through acclimating to his size.

“Oh god, fuck.” He can feel your pussy tightening around him, the pulses of your walls essentially jerking him off and it’s taking all his resistance not to start rocking his hips up to meet your ass.

“I-” He’s cut off as soon as he tries to start.

“You better not say ‘I told you so’ while you’re inside me or else you’ll never be again.” The possibility of this happening again shut him up pretty quickly.

He opts to try and ease you into the feeling, lets his hand trace along your skin, up to your torso. He peppers kisses down your neck and onto your shoulder. His hand seeks out a breast under your shirt and gently takes it into his palm, massaging the flesh as his fingers tweak at the nipple.

He tries to imagine what it must look like pebbled between his thumb and index; the color of them in contrast to your skin. He’s overwhelmed with the urge to slip it between his teeth and test how hard he could nibble at it before you broke, but the current position makes it impossible and he doesn’t dare switch it now.

Your breathing becomes heavier at every pinch and twist. He can feel your chest heaving under his hand and you’re melting against him. The chokehold your pussy has on his cock also lets up a little, allowing you to rock back and forth seeking more friction.

“I’m ready.” Your voice calls him back. “You can move. Fuck me.” He starts slow and careful, long languid strokes out until only the head stays inside you, and back in with a smooth confident thrust; letting as much of his length fit as he can from this angle.

He lets his hand wander once he feels you matching his strokes, backing up to meet him at each push in. Your skin is damp under his palm and the sticky feeling would usually bother him, but he’s too enthralled by the little noises that you make with each movement.

Your hand chases after his, following where he cups at your breast, pinches at your nipple, and he notes the hitch in your breath when his large palm settles loosely at the base of your throat. He’ll have to file that one away for another day.

You eventually seem to grow frustrated with his teasing touches because you drag his hand back south and into your underwear. He spreads his fingers around where the two of you are joined. He can feel your arousal coat his cock and your pussy stretch around him, sucking him in at every stroke.

He brings his fingers up to finally give your neglected clit the attention it’s been craving. You can feel how it’s throbbing with desire. You don’t bother trying to suppress the moan that comes out in nearly a scream when Namjoon presses against your bundle of nerves with skillful pressure and maddening circles.

It’s still slow. Everything is infuriatingly slow but you can’t find your voice through the groans and gasps to ask for more, so you let him set his torturous pace and drown in the electricity coursing through your body.

You take up the mantle that he’d been forced to leave behind. You feel too good to ask to change positions but you mourn the lack of his other hand which is forced under him, unable to wreck the same havoc on your body as its twin. Your right hand travels to your torso, attempting to mimic his earlier teasing while your left holds onto his wrist between your legs to keep yourself grounded.

You melt into his touch, head lolling into the pillow. Namjoon takes advantage of your neck opening up. He finally gets to use his right arm to push his upper body enough to dip his head down where your shoulder meets your neck to attach his lips to your skin. The added feeling of his teeth biting down, paired with a hard suck and lick of his tongue sends you reeling. You push back harder, urging him to thrust in rougher, as deep as the position allows.

“So big, Joonie. Can feel you so deep.” You’re pushing his buttons and it works. You’re riling him up and he lets it happen. You sacrifice the feeling of his fingers on your clit to bring them up just above your pubic bone and push down hard making the head of his dick hit against the front of your walls. You know he can feel it push against his hand every time he hits home.

You know when he registered what’s happening because he’s pistoning into you with renewed vigor, each thrust stronger than the one before. The new pressure from his hand makes everything feel euphoric.

“Shit, Y/N. So fucking tight around me. You feel so good, sweetheart.” The praise falls from his lips without thought and the endearment slips through with ease but there’s no time to focus on it. You’re clenching around him, being brought to the edge.

Your hand replaces where his had been, fingers wild and frantic on your clit, pushing you towards your orgasm. It doesn’t take long to hit and your body goes rigid in his arms. Your muscles scream as they twitch and the wave radiates out from your core and washes over you to the tips of your limbs.

The shaking in your body subsides but the throes of pleasure still buzz under your skin from where Namjoon hasn’t slowed. He continues to push and pull his way into your body, keeping the tension alive.

“You sound so fucking hot when you cum. Feel so perfect around my cock.” No words come in reply to his, only mindless moans answer the praise. You want to tell him how good he feels inside you too, how you still need him so desperately.

“More!” You manage to gulp through the overwhelming feeling surrounding you. “Want to feel you deeper.”

His hips stutter in response, your words hit him in the pit of his stomach. He wants to give you more, whatever you want but he can’t go any further from this angle.

“Gonna have to move us around for that, okay?” His voice is muffled from where his mouth is still dug into the crook of your neck, breath heavy near your ear.

You’re nodding without giving it much thought. Whatever he wants, he can do anything he wants. You’d agree to anything if it meant getting more of the addictive feeling coursing through your veins.

His cock slips out of you and you barely have the time to whine at the loss that a yelp escapes you instead as you’re hauled up and around to land firmly on his lap, underwear being ripped away in the switch, Namjoon now spread beneath you. Your hands fly forward to balance yourself, knees planted on either side of his hips.

“Holy hell, I was kidding earlier with the tits comment but…” You let your hands finish the implication as they grab at the flesh of his chest, nails digging into his skin. “Can you flex for a second?”

His muscles tense under your touch and you can’t help the groan that slips out in response. His chest is rock hard now and you feel your body rise with the strength imbued in it. You let your hands drift downwards, nails dragging behind. You wonder if the marks will still be there tomorrow for you to see the damage you're leaving in the light of day.

You can feel each bump on his abdomen where the muscles bulge out and dip back in. You’re surprised to feel the smooth velvet tip of his cock hit your hand so quickly. You’re barely halfway down his abs and the realization of how big Namjoon actually is sinks in.

The previous position wouldn’t have had him remotely close to fully sheathed inside you. The anticipation of really feeling his entire length has you grinding down and sliding along him, trapping him between his stomach and your sopping folds.

He bucks up to meet the pressure, hands holding firm on your waist, following the pace you’ve set. He lets you roll on him, his sensitive head catching on your clit and every loop which elicits moans from both of you.

He’s sure he could cum from this alone, but he’s aching to feel you sink down on him entirely. There’s a desperate plea on the tip of his tongue, an encouragement for you to lead him back inside but he keeps quiet. He wants you to make the decision and go at the pace you need. Despite the shift in situation, Namjoon still feels the vulnerability you’re under.

His hand drifts up, letting fire spread along your skin. The electricity in the air isn’t only from the storm anymore. He’s gentle as he cups your breast, content when he can feel your chest arching forward to chase after the pressure of his touch. Your nipple pebbles despite the hot and humid air.

“Perfect,” he murmurs under his breath. He’s sure it’s low enough to stay a private confession but the low moans mixed with your thighs tightening against his hips reveal otherwise.

The praise urges you on, reigniting your movements. Namjoon almost fears you’re moving away, off from your seat on top of him. His hands are quick to reach back for yours; a silent imploration to stay but they’re unnecessary. The pressure on his chest where you anchor yourself grounds him. There’s a shake where your balance falters so you can reach beneath you and grab at his cock, holding it straight towards your core.

The darkness hadn’t bothered Namjoon until this moment. He’ll rue this day for his entire life for stealing the vision of your expression as you slowly sink down on his entire length for the first time. The whimpers that escape, as you take each inch further, are only teases compared to the satisfied groan that comes once you’re fully settled back in his lap. The entire situation is torture. The heat of the stifling summer night is nothing compared to the scorching embrace of your walls around him. There’s aftershocks of your muscles spazzing around him that pair with more moans while you acclimate to the feeling of him inside you.

Namjoon’s mouth is dry and his brain is empty. There’s a strong instinct to move, a twitch in his arms to use his strength to lift you up enough to have you slam back down but he resists.

He can hear your breathing even out, big gulps of air diminishing to a more normal rhythm. You’re fidgeting, torso lowering to come parallel to his until your breath hits his throat. He doesn’t even realize your hand had snaked away until it lands in his hair and you pull on the strands to allow your lips to stroke at the cartilage of his ear, a warm tickle accompanying your words.

“You’re so big, Joonie. Feel so full.” He knows it’s the sign he was waiting for when you end the compliment with a strong squeeze that he can feel through his entire body. All the restraint he had exhibited snaps.

It all happens at once. He reaches for a fistful of your hair to keep you still as he clumsily seeks for your lips with his own. The kiss is aggressive and too full of teeth clanking together at first. It eventually melts into something more salacious. Your lips are hot and slippery but Namjoon is aiming for more.

You’re too distracted to notice that his stance has changed. He jostles you as he plants his feet into your mattress to give him the best angle to properly pound into you. The first hard thrust is paired with a well timed bite of your lip which has you opening your mouth with a shout of pleasure. He takes advantage of the position to delve his tongue into a battle with yours, turning the dirty kiss into an even wetter mess.

Neither of you can hear the storm over the slaps of skin, low groans, and high whines from inside the room. “You hear how wet this pussy is for me? Sound so fucking pretty, bet it looks even better. We’ll have to do this again, right? So I can see you leaking over my cock properly.”

If you’re answering him it’s unintelligible in the mumbles melted into the moans that continue to spill out of you. He’s taking it as an agreement from the tightening of your core around him.

His legs eventually lower behind you, pushing you to straighten back up and work to keep up the faltering rhythm. The heat and late hour seeps into your bones but the exhaustion that lies at the edge of your consciousness is no match for the fire in your veins that feeds the lust inside you. Your hands reach behind you and grab onto meaty thighs. God, you’ll need to talk about those in the morning because you don’t have the energy to trigger another round tonight. Your head falls, back arching towards the sky. It gives Namjoon the opportunity to roam your body, soft strokes and harsh grasps.

“Come on, Joonie. What good are those big biceps for if you can’t fuck me harder?” The taunt works like magic to reinvigorate him. Large hands come back to your waist, palms digging hard into your body above your hip bones. His thumbs aim towards your core, pushing into the softness above your pelvis. It’s not as obvious as the first position on your side but he can definitely feel the shift under your skin where the pressure of his thrusting cock pushes against his fingers.

“Shit, Y/N, never felt pussy this good. My perfect girl. Are you close? Can you cum for me, baby?”

“Y-yeah, so close- fuck. You feel so good.” It wasn’t a lie, you’ve teetered on the edge for a while but you just needed a little extra push. Namjoon’s hold on you is strong enough to allow you to sneak a hand to where the two of you are joined. There’s only a flash of pleasure before your fingers are slapped away.

“Nuh uh, my job. If you want to be touched a certain way just ask for it. You’re a big girl, use your words.”

If he kept talking to you like that maybe you wouldn’t need the extra help after all but that’s an experiment for another day. “Please, Joonie, want to cum. Touch me.”

He dares to slow the pace, still upkeep the long hard strokes that hit deep inside you. “Is that the best you can do? You’re about to cum all over my cock and I’m still just Joonie? You’re not being very clear, you know. I’ve got my hands on you, I’m already touching. Be more precise. What do you want, princess?”

He’ll be the death of you, you can already tell you’ve set yourself up. Your words are coming out in choked sobs, your climax on the brink. “Please!” you exclaim, “Namjoon, please play with my clit and make me cum all over your big cock.”

He didn’t expect you to take the bait so strongly, but you asked so politely, who would he be to deny your request.

“Good girl. I’ll give you anything you ask for if you do it like that. Look all innocent but you’re just a desperate little thing, aren’t you?” His words are paired with increased speed. He pistons into you with such force that you swear you’re floating above him. The world falls away when his thumb finally comes to rub tantalizing circles around your nub, the movement a little clumsy form how wet it is between your thighs.

It doesn’t take much to reach elation. White light explodes behind your eyes making you believe the power may have returned for a second. There’s electricity living in your nerves that travel down your limbs. There’s a rawness in your throat you assume was birthed from the scream that still echoes around the room.

You catch your breath on a pile of loose limbs draped over your new roommate’s huge frame. Your muscles are spasming from the outside in. You can tell that Namjoon definitely feel it from how tense his muscles feel under your fingers. You purposefully constrict around him and the answering grunt confirms your suspicions.

It takes a second to gather enough strength to sit back up while keeping him snuggly inside you. You wish you could look into his eyes as you roll your hips over him. You know it’s not as stimulating as the hard thrusts from earlier but the sweet sounds you hear from under you seem to have him perfectly content.

“Fuck, you never stop surprising me but you really need to get off because I can’t last anymore.” There’s a tension in his tone, one that you’d hear from someone holding onto a loosening grip that could result in falling to their doom.

You let the nail from your index dig into his skin and leave a burning sensation behind as your scratch down the valley of his pecs, from his clavicle to his abdominals. “Good. Then my plan is working. Your turn to cum for me.”

“Oh, I will. The second you get off me, it’s torture to keep it in, so please-” It’s his turn to beg but you’re not as ready to give in to his demand this time around. You only double your efforts, rolling hips and tight squeezes.

“Go on, then. You wanted me to ask for what I want? Cum. I’m safe and I want you to cum inside me, Namjoon.”

There’s black magic in the way you say his name, it’s hypnotizing. Or maybe it’s the imaginary visual of what you’d look like splayed out with his cum seeping out of you that does it.

He brings his fingers back to your sensitive clit and the pressure is almost too much. You nearly beg him to give you a break but he interrupts you before you can start. “One more time, with me. If you want me to fill up that sweet pussy, you’ll have to milk it out of me.”

You can’t tell whether it’s the pressure on your clit or the dirty words from his mouth, but the wave of pleasure comes back with a mighty force and crashes through you again. You can feel your core tightening around him in spasms which triggers his own release. You can feel his cock spurting inside you, an extra layer of warmth seeping into you. You can’t hold yourself anymore and flop onto Namjoon, both of your breaths heavy and labored.

His hand strokes comfort onto your back. You don’t even mind how sweaty you both are, sticking to each other. “We should get cleaned up,” he suggests.

You dig your face into the crook of his neck in protest. “No. Tomorrow. Don’t want to move. You still feel good, don’t want you to pull out.” You purposefully twitch to make your point. His cock may be softening but it’s still firmly plugging you up. You both know you’ll regret it in the morning but you couldn’t care right now.

The exhaustion you both feel settles into contentment as sleep pulls you in. You both fall asleep without even noticing that the storm has also fallen into slumber.

Okay, so maybe Namjoon was a little dramatic about being abandoned because it’s only a week later when Yoongi is back in his old apartment from a weekend brunch date with his friends.

You and Jin are bonding in the kitchen. Yoongi can hear his boyfriend’s windshield wiper laugh mixed with your giggles that he’s always compared to a hyena. He expected the atmosphere to be a little awkward when he came in, both of the new roommates a little shy and fond of individual activities.

But when he let himself in earlier he found both his friends sharing the couch in the living room, each with a book in hand,which wasn’t surprising, but your feet perched on Namjoon’s lap, that was a little surprising.

He had let that slide easily enough. His suspicion returns simply from how much smiling Namjoon has been doing. Smiles wouldn’t be odd for most but Yoongi has heard that man’s music lately and he’s the definition of a Sad Boi™.

The pieces fall into place when you bring in the plates and there’s lingering. From your fingers on Namjoon’s when you exchange the dish to his eyes on your ass when you turn away. Yoongi stares Namjoon down, deadpan. His friend’s eyes widen in panic once he realizes he’s been caught. Yoongi’s always been able to read him like a book.

“You motherfucker,” Yoongi spats at him just as you reenter the room.

“Now now, Yoongles. Do we need to call Dr. Lee to go through your mommy issues again? We’ve already established I’m not your mother.” You take a seat on Namjoon’s lap as if to make a point. “Besides, there’s only one person that gets to call me mommy now.” The look you and Namjoon share might be the final drop that makes him go dig for his old psych’s number that night.

[janespink]

𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐝𝐨𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐬 - 𝑀𝒶𝓉𝓉 𝒮𝓉𝓊𝓇𝓃𝒾𝑜𝓁𝑜 Warnings: none

Summary: Y/N befriends her mysterious neighbor, Matt, only to discover during their date that he’s an escaped prisoner.

Author’s note: English is not my first language. Also the first ff i ever wrote

Moving to a new neighborhood wasn’t exactly how you planned to spend your summer. Your parents called it a “fresh start,” but to you, it just felt like being uprooted. Thankfully, you had Nate and Madi—your closest friends, who were more like family than anything else. They made the transition bearable. It was a quiet afternoon when you first noticed him. You were sitting on the front porch, scrolling through your phone, waiting for Nate and Madi to pick you up. Across the street, a guy around your age was unloading boxes from the back of a truck. He was 5’7 and lean, with a hoodie pulled over his head despite the warm weather. You didn’t mean to stare, but there was something intriguing about him—the way he moved quickly, almost like he didn’t want to be noticed. “Hey,” his voice cut through your thoughts, and your head snapped up. “Oh, uh… hi,” you stammered, caught off guard. “You just move in?” he asked, pausing with a box in his hands. His tone was casual, but his eyes studied you with interest. “Yeah, last week,” you replied, gesturing vaguely toward your house. “Looks like we’re neighbors.” He nodded, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Guess so. I’m Matt, by the way.” “Y/N,” you said, returning the smile. Before the conversation could go any further, Nate’s car pulled up, horn blaring obnoxiously. Madi stuck her head out of the passenger window, grinning. “Let’s go, Y/N!” “Coming!” you called, grabbing your bag. You glanced back at Matt, who gave you a quick wave before disappearing into his house.

Over the next few weeks, you saw more of Matt. It started with brief hellos when you passed each other on the street, then longer conversations whenever you found yourselves outside at the same time. He was easy to talk to—funny, thoughtful, and just a little bit mysterious. “How do you not have a single social media account?” you teased one evening as you sat on the porch steps, talking while the sun dipped below the horizon. Matt shrugged, a playful smirk on his face. “Guess I like keeping things simple. Besides, I prefer real connections over a bunch of likes and comments.” “Wow,” you said, pretending to be impressed. “Deep and philosophical. You’re really setting the bar high, Matt.” He laughed, the sound low and genuine. “What can I say? I’m full of surprises.”

It wasn’t long before your friendship with Matt became a regular part of your life. Nate and Madi noticed, of course. “So, who’s the guy?” Madi asked one afternoon as the three of you hung out in Nate’s basement. “What guy?” you asked, feigning innocence. “Don’t play dumb,” Nate chimed in. “Madi saw you talking to some dude on your porch the other day. Spill.” You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the small smile that crept onto your face. “His name’s Matt. He just moved in next door.” “And?” Madi pressed, her eyes gleaming with curiosity. “And… he’s nice,” you said with a shrug. Nate raised an eyebrow. “Nice, huh? That’s it?” “Yes, that’s it,” you said, hoping they’d drop the subject. But they didn’t. Over the next few days, they made it their mission to find out everything they could about Matt—much to your annoyance.

One evening, Matt surprised you by asking if you wanted to grab coffee. “Like… a date?” you asked, your heart skipping a beat. He hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “Yeah. A date.” You felt a blush creep up your cheeks but managed a smile. “Sure. I’d like that.” The next day, you told Nate and Madi about the date. “Finally!” Madi exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air. “I’ve been waiting for this to happen.” Nate, however, looked less enthused. “I don’t know, Y/N. Are you sure about this guy? You barely know him.” “That’s what dates are for,” you said, brushing off his concern. “Just be careful, okay?” Nate said, his tone more serious than usual. “I will,” you promised, though you couldn’t understand why he was being so cautious.

The date started off perfectly. Matt picked a cozy little café tucked away from the busy streets, its warm lighting and soft music setting the perfect mood. “You’ve got good taste,” you said as you took a sip of your latte. “Glad you think so,” Matt said, his eyes crinkling with a smile. The conversation flowed easily, just like it always did with Matt. He told you about his favorite books and movies, and you found yourself laughing more than you had in weeks. Halfway through the date, your phone buzzed. You glanced at the screen to see a text from Nate. Nate: Call me ASAP. It’s important. Frowning, you quickly texted back. Y/N: Can’t. I’m on date. The response came almost instantly. Nate: Y/N, I’m serious. You need to see this. You sighed and opened the next message, which was a screenshot of a news article. The headline sent a chill down your spine: “Local Prisoner Escapes Custody: Police Warn Public to Stay Alert” Beneath the headline was a grainy photo of the escapee. You stared at it, your heart racing. The man in the picture looked eerily familiar—too familiar. It was Matt.

End of Part 1.

[slafkovskys]

an inconvenient attachment

pairing: jeremy swayman x cassie davis (oc)

warnings: mentions of minor character death, language

word count: < 1000

“i think that there’s a word for this, for what you do every summer,” cassandra davis muses as she stares at the man across from her. he doesn’t look much different from their college days. he had a full beard now and she could tell that he bulked up a little, absolutely the demands of a professional diet.

“and what do i do every summer, cassie?” he humors her like they both didn’t know the only business that he had in maine was her, as much as she despised that simple fact.

“you keep coming back here like i’m going to change my mind. i’ve given you the same answer for the past three years and if you want to make it four, we can. i haven’t forgotten what you did, jeremy.”

“i-”

“you didn’t even tell me you were going to sign,” she cross her arms over her chest, staring at the man across from her. the wind from outside the cafe were they always had their yearly meeting sweeps through his hair, “you left town, changed your phone number, and i found out through twitter that you were going to boston. through twitter, jeremy.”

“i’m not the same person that i was then,” jeremy leans forward to rest against the metal table. the new weight causes both of their drinks to slosh around in their cups, “i thought that i was doing the right thing.”

“i would’ve preferred a breakup text then whatever the fuck you did,” cassie huffs, “i’m being serious here. this needs to stop.”

“are you ready to do this by yourself, cass?”

and in the two and a half months since jay had passed, no one had asked her that. it was always ‘are you okay?’ or ‘let me know if there’s anything that you need.’ like she and jay were something serious. like he hadn’t told her a week before the accident that he wanted no involvement with her or their child if she chose to keep it.

and now here she sits, across from the the man who tore her heart out just like she did every summer, contemplating his question. her hands smoothe over her stomach and she’s not immune to the way his eyes follow their path. she had thought that he was going to faint when she approached, wordlessly taking a seat across from him as his eyes stared at her midsection. she sighs, “i don’t really have a choice, jeremy.”

“there’s always a choice,” jeremy watches her for a second, “come to boston with me.”

she doesn’t even hesitate to burst out laughing at his statement. she uses one hand to grip onto the table while the other covers her mouth, “oh, you- you’re funny.”

“i wasn’t trying to be. i’m being serious, cassie.”

her laughter subsides and through teary eyes, she stares at the man across from her. he’s got a look on his face, serious like he was claiming to be, and she shakes her head, “absolutely not.”

“your parents are still in sinclair, aren’t they?” cassie was the youngest of three and once she moved away for college, her parents were quick to sell their house and move to the top of the state. she was the only one of her siblings who had hung around portland after graduating, coming back for a since of familiarity. she nods and he sends her a look, “so your closest support is six hours away.”

“what? you want me to rely on you when you’re gone half of the time?”

“that’s- it’s different,” jeremy rubs a hand over his face, “we were roommates before-”

“that was five years ago when we were fucking and then you ghosted me,” she deadpans and he groans.

“will you please just listen,” he begs and she blinks, “okay, i was a je- an asshole. what i did was textbook asshole and you don’t owe me a damn thing, okay? we can both agree on that, but i’m not just going to leave you here by yourself to raise a baby on your own.”

cassie stirs her cold coffee with her straw, “this isn’t your responsibility, jeremy.”

“i never said it was and like i said, you don’t owe me anything, but when have you ever turned down an adventure?” he quirks and eyebrow, “when we were together, we were good. i won’t put us in an apartment, i’ll get us a house where you can have your own space and i can have mine, but you can feel like you have someone there for you. you don’t even have to talk to me if you don’t want to-”

“you just want my ray of sunshine personality there all the time to keep house?” she chuckles and he sends her a wink. “i don’t have a job in boston-”

“there’s elementary schools and dance classes all over, babe, and with a resume like yours, they would be crazy not to want you.”

she allows his words to sink in for a moment before opening her mouth again, “why do you want this so bad?”

he visibly swallows a lump on his throat, “do you really want me to answer that?”

and no she didn’t because she was sure that she already knew the answer.

[boybandbaby]

I'm Not The Only One

Summary: You and Steve hate each other. He sees your boyfriend cheat on you. Will you believe him?

Word Count: 2316

Note: Not revised. This was an idea I got while listening to Sam Smith.

Your best friend was Eddie Munson and he had introduced you to the group when you moved back to Hawkins the summer after he graduated. Eddie spent so much time with his friends, especially Dustin that you grew close to him as well. You assume this is where the hatred from Steve started.

Steve would often hear your name so much it started to piss him off. First it was simple things such as Max or Nancy skipping out on group hangouts to go to the mall or a concert with you. Then it was his two closest friends Robin and Dustin who would go to you for things instead of Steve. It started with Robin: “Sorry Steve, Y/N is actually giving me a ride” after a shift. Then came Dustin: “I’m going to ask for Y/N’s opinion” on his outfit for a school dance or a date. Steve felt he was slowly getting replaced. With his lack of parents and his growing insecurities, Steve could feel himself isolating and becoming lonely. Soon, he would start flaking on group activities too and stop offering rides to his friends. 

Everyone noticed but no one knew how to bring up Steve’s absence. He would ignore their phone calls and door visits. He would be “too busy” at work to talk to Robin about it. He would somehow always be “unloading boxes” or “doing inventory” in the backroom when the kids would appear.

The group then decided to have a little meeting to see what they should do about it. It was when you suggested that maybe you should go talk to him about it, that the group started piecing together your new presence in the group coincided with his new absence. After much bickering from both Wheelers about how this seemed like a bad idea, you decided to just do it anyway.

So here you were, knocking for a third time on Steve Harrington's door. Eddie, Dustin, Robin, Lucas, and Max decided to “hide out” in Eddie’s van across the street to watch. You could definitely see them from the front door and so would Steve if he ever answered. You started getting impatient with Steve. His car was clearly in the driveway and you could hear the sound of a tv through the door.

“Steve, I know you’re in there. I can hear you.” You shouted. “If you don’t want to answer the door, I’ll just say my piece through the door.” You waited a few seconds. No reply. “Okay then, well we’re all worried about you. If me or any of the others did something to upset you, we’d like to know so we could fix it. I offered to come and speak with you because we all agreed ever since I joined the group, you’ve been off. If I’ve offended you or hurt you, I’d like to talk about it.”

The door suddenly opens and Steve’s looking as cozy and handsome as ever. Was he always this pretty? “H-hi Ste-” Your stuttering is cut short by Steve’s glaring and stern voice.

“I don’t want to speak with you.” He looks over your shoulder and can see Eddie’s van with several heads poking through the windows. “You can tell them that too. You know, since you’re this great, amazing, wonderful person. They clearly don’t need me anymore since they have you. Miss perfect.” He scoffs.

“Stev-” You attempt to stop him to ask what the hell is going on.

“Just go. Honestly, just get out of Hawkins. Go back to wherever the hell you came from and leave us alone. More importantly, leave me alone.” And with that the door slams in your face, leaving you in a blanket of embarrassment and anger. That was the start of your hatred for Steve.

-

A few years had gone by, the kids now seniors in high school. You’d met them when they were soon to be sophomores. Steve had integrated back into the group when you dialed back on your involvement. You’d often still hang out with Max or Lucas, and of course Eddie. But you started declining solo hangouts with Robin or Dustin and sometimes Nancy. Steve didn’t want to believe or think he was only useful now that you were out of the picture, well partially, but he appreciated it. It definitely helped with the loneliness too.

Over the last two years, anytime you’d see Steve, you’d just roll your eyes and keep your snarky comments to yourself (and Eddie who’d just chuckle and shake his head). Steve wasn’t as professional as you were though. He’d “accidentally” bump into you causing you to stumble, not enough to where you’d fall or seriously hurt yourself but enough to irk you and distract from whatever task you were doing. If you are at movie nights, he’d steal the entire bowl of popcorn or take the last slice of pizza or be super obnoxious by licking the top of the soda bottle so you (or anyone else) could have some. Of course Eddie would defend your honor and tell Steve to lay off and share his snacks with you, but it started to become too much. And there was the name calling: you forgot what time a hangout was? You’re dumb. You got over excited about a new song or movie? You’re a dork. You were too scared to go into a haunted house? You’re lame. So ultimately you started pulling back from the group even more.

This led you to seek friends in other places. That’s how you met Matt. Friend turned boyfriend. You’d met while on a solo trip to the arcade. He’d noticed you were playing Pac-Man alone and offered to play with you. You’d spent the entire night playing games and shared a basket of fries and chicken tenders. After exchanging phone numbers, you’d promise to see each other again. 

A few weeks later, you’d walked hand in hand into Family Video, all smiles as you searched the racks of movies. 

“Who the hell is that?” Steve leaned his elbows onto the counter, watching you and Matt. “She’s got a boyfriend? Since when?”

“They’ve been dating for like a month, you dingus. I’d think you’d realize that since she’s been spending less time with us.” Robin laughed quietly.

“Surprised anyone would want to date her, since she’s a witch.” Steve smiled at a customer who approached the counter. As he made small talk and rang the man up, you and Matt separated so you could go talk to Robin. Matt continued to scan the shelves, finding something you both might like. 

“Hey girly,” you smiled at Robin. “How’s work?”

“Better now that you’re here.” She winked, both of you chuckling. “How are things with Matt?”

“Good, good. We’re having a movie night at his place.” You smiled and looked over to Steve. “What are you staring at?”

“Nothing, nothing.” He laughed and threw his hands up in surrender. “You know, you might like this movie here. Since you starred in it and everything.” He handed you a copy of The Wizard of Oz.

You rolled your eyes, quick to respond. “You’re in it too ya know? You must have made a lot of money playing three roles. No heart, no brain, and a coward. I guess it didn’t take much to play those roles.”

“She got you there, Steve.” Robin laughed. 

“Matt, I’m going to wait outside.” You called.

“Okay babe, I’m almost done choosing.” He smiled, grabbing a copy of Grease. “Hey man, just this one.” He handed it to Steve.

“Sure thing.” He sighed and rang Matt up. Steve watched as Matt made his way out to you, throwing an arm around your shoulders and walking to his car. Steve scowled while Robin snickered. “What’s funny?”

“Oh dude, you’re so jealous.” Robin hopped onto the counter. “You like Y/N.”

“Absolutely not.” Steve faked a gag. “She’s the worst.”

“Why do you hate her so much? She literally never did anything.” Robin kicked Steve’s hip with her foot.

“She tried to replace me!” He argued.

“She did not. She had just moved here and her only friend was Eddie. She just wanted to make friends. You,” She kicked his butt cheek as he turned to leave from behind the counter. “Got jealous and blew up on her.”

“Did not.”

“Did too. And now you like her.” Robin hopped off the counter. “You try to hide it by being mean to her but you really like her.” She starts to make kissing noises. “You’re such a cliche Harrington.”

“Am not.” He tosses a rag toward her. “And I don’t like her.”

_

To say this night was a mess was a huge understatement. Not only had Steve’s comments actually hurt, but Matt was acting completely like Danny Zuko. You’d been watching Grease on his couch, snuggled under a blanket, when he tried to pull a move like Danny did to Sandy. You’d declined because you wanted to just watch the movie but he insisted. Then he made you feel guilty about not kissing him yet. You hadn’t had a serious kiss before and wanted to wait a bit. Your first kiss was with Eddie, a friendship pact to kiss each other and get it over with before you both turned 18. It was not good and you’d both laughed while it was happening. Now that you were looking to get serious with someone, you wanted a good first kiss redo.

The night had ended abruptly after you rushed off the couch and told Matt you’d see him later. You promised to call him when you got home. That call was not answered on his end. 

You tried calling him several times over the weekend but they all went unanswered. Had you messed up? No, he messed up. He was the one behaving like an idiot. You decided you’d go to his house and squash this entire thing Monday night after your morning shift.

What you hadn’t known was that he’d been preoccupied all weekend with his ex girlfriend Annalise. 

-

“You’re just trying to hurt Y/N. That didn’t happen Steve. It’s not funny.” Robin rolled her eyes. 

“I’m not Robin! I saw him. He had his arm wrapped around this girl that was not Y/N!” Steve followed her around the store as she reshelved returned tapes. “His tongue was down her throat. I swear.”

“How do you even know it was Matt?” She turned to face him, jumping when she realized just how close he was.

“He had on that stupid sweater vest and that lame haircut. I know it was him. Now you have to call Y/N and tell her.” He urged. 

“Why don’t you call and tell her yourself?” Robin shrugged. “You actually saw them.”

“She’ll believe you. She’ll never trust my word.” Steve pleaded. “Please, you have to tell her.” He grabbed the movie from her. “Please.” He whispered.

“I love Y/N but Steve, I didn’t see it and I don’t want to speak about something I don’t know about. Maybe ask Eddie to talk to her.” Robin snatched the movie back from Steve.

“If I tell Eddie, we’ll both be forced to kick this guy’s ass. I’d like to avoid going to jail for murder.” Steve sighed. “Please just talk to Y/N.”

“Talk to me about what?” Your voice carried across the store as their heads snapped to the door. The bell above the door definitely needed to be fixed. How did they not hear you come in? “Cat got your tongue?” You laughed and approached the counter.

“I was just telling Robin that you forgot to return Grease. It was due yesterday.” Steve muttered. 

“Actually, it’s under Matt’s name. So he forgot to return it. You can give him a call.” You shrugged. “Not sure if he’ll  answer the phone though.” You sighed.

“Well, what brings you in?” Steve asked nervously. There was no normal tone of annoyance or snarkiness laced in his words. You raised an eyebrow.

“Was just looking to speak to Robin actually. Girl problems.” You turn to look for her but she’s nowhere to be found. “Robin? Where’d she go?”

Steve’s just as clueless as you. He clears his throat and steps behind the counter. “So, um… how are things?”

“How are things?” You chuckle. “Why do you care?”

“I’m just trying to make small talk to fill in the awkwardness of this interaction.” He replies honestly. “How’s Matt?”

“I don’t know.” You lean against the counter. “He hasn’t been answering my calls. We kind of had a weird thing happen Friday night. That’s what I came by to ask Robin ab-”

“He’s cheating on you.” Steve blurts.

Your body tenses and you lean off the counter. “What?”

“He’s cheating. I saw him with another girl.”

“That’s not funny, Steve.” You glare at him, eyes narrowing. “You’re always so mean but this is super hurtful.”

“I’m not making a joke Y/N. I saw him!” He steps out from behind the counter as you start to back away. “I wanted to tell you but I knew you wouldn’t believe me.”

“Who else knows? Who else was there?” You ask quietly, tears springing into your eyes.

“Just me.” He sighs. “I was grabbing food after work when I saw-”

“When? What day?” 

“Friday night. I thought it wasn’t him because he should’ve been with you.” He steps forward. “But he was wearing that vest with the diamond pattern. The green one. That’s how I remembered him.”

Suddenly, unfortunately, the bell signaling a new customer went off. Both you and Steve jumped at the sound, looking to the door.

“Welcome to Family Video!” Robin shouted as she entered from the back room. Her eyes flickered between Steve and you. You had to get out of there. And you did. Running as fast as possible back to your car. 

[praise-joko]

Summer Fest | Technology or Nature

Aimvara,

I found myself a teacher. Well, stumbled across her really. She’s done quite a lot of research into the fields of golemancy and necromancy, working to combine the two to create life from death. I think it’s quite close to what my Dream is leading me to, and she’s already succeeded!

I found myself a teacher. Well, stumbled across her. I dropped by Desider Atum, quite a large market out in the wilds, to restock my supplies and thought I’d check the area out. The entrance was hidden behind a tangle of vines and weeds. I could barely make out the glow of the access pad behind them. I’m not sure what drew me there, perhaps I could sense the faint necromantic energy that still lingered. But, Aimvara, as soon as I activated the pad, I knew I had stumbled on a wealth of information. It’s everything I’ve been looking for.

The lab belongs to an Asura named Oola. Lab genius, she calls herself. I’m inclined to believe that’s not merely Asuran pride speaking. She’s done quite a lot of research into the fields of golemancy and necromancy, working to combine the two to create life from death and it’s not all theory. She’s managed to successfully imbue her soul into a golem and the connection hasn’t faded.

I’d heard of her before, in my light research into golemancy. She was a very prominent name in the field 200 years ago. I had no idea that she was also a necromancer but I get the feeling that was less public knowledge. She’s not the easiest person to get along with, and she has been particularly wary about accepting me into her labs as an apprentice of sorts. She was betrayed by a former student, who publicly burned her books. I’m not sure why, attempting to learn more only sparks more rants so I’ve decided to leave it be.

I’m lucky she’s still around to teach me in person. Such a tremendous loss of knowledge and no one to see the proof of her accomplishments. I think she holed herself up in her lab, working until the last moment to succeed in her experiment, quietly fading away from the public eye. I get the feeling she wasn’t too fond of the general Asuran population.

I know she hasn’t been outside in a long while. One of the reasons I was allowed entry into her lab, I think, is that I was something completely new to her. A walking stick of bark with a mushroom for a hat. She was very interested in learning about us Sylvari. Where we come from, how we function. I admit, it did make me feel very uncomfortable. There I was, trapped in a lab with an old Asura with a fascination for life and death. I couldn’t help but think about all the Sylvari who have suffered at the hands of Asuran experimentation. It still weighs on my mind sometimes. If I hadn’t been able to prove myself, hadn’t shown real interest in her research, would she have seen me more as a research subject than a student?

I said I dropped the questions about her former student, but I can’t help but think about why he burned his mentor’s years of research. Maybe it was out of contempt of the field, many in other races are uncomfortable with the subject of necromancy. Maybe it’s just because she’s hard to get along with and their personalities clashed so splendidly it ended in a blaze. But then, it could be that she’s committed awful deeds in her pursuit of knowledge. And you know? I find that I really don’t want to know about it if that’s the case.

It’s not that I have some great regard for her outside of academics. That’s all I know. What she has accomplished, the things she’s achieved, it’s the closest I’ve ever come to finding what I saw in my Dream: a soul living in a mechanical body. Years of research, and expert knowledge of the intersection of two very different fields of study are all at my fingertips. Not simply words on a page, but an actual person I can talk to, theorize with. I want to learn all I can from her. The failures and successes, half-mad theories and genius ideas. If those results have come as the result of horrible experimentations… Is it bad that I don’t want to know?

This letter seems to have gotten away from me. Apologies for ending it on such a heavy note. I truly am over the moon to have discovered this treasure trove of knowledge.

Lost in studies,

Basmani

[coffeeandcalligraphy]

After death | Lost Gods

He looks at the skyline ahead of him, its famous shapes that tourists gape at like they’re observing a gorilla in an enclosure. It’s all grey to him, not just because of the looming storm but because the grids of buildings and lights have become boring in a way that seems fatal—this city is a dead thing on earth, he doesn’t care what anyone says. It’s all post-mortem—the blinking traffic lights, shafts of sunlight interrupted by high-rises, yellow taxis honking, honking, honking, like they’re shouting a prayer. He feels sort of like that too, caught in kitschy after death.

A little Harrison art <3 !! And an excerpt from the opening of Lost Gods!

4 years ago today I finished writing his very first solo novel, Moth Work, & I’m kind of in awe of how far we’ve come in that short time… 4 novels & 2 novellas narrated by this man who’s a little embarrassing and a whole lot profound (but you didn’t hear that from me!). A few more thoughts under the cut, but here’s a little note I made myself in 2020, the only note I’ve ever made after finishing a book (possibly because finishing this one changed my life a little).

TW for mentions of: mental illness, trauma in the mental health system, internalized homophobia

Technically I finished Moth Work at 2:34AM because I lived on the west coast at the time lol.

I don’t usually celebrate or remember the anniversaries of finishing books. But I wanted to celebrate this one because a) it’s Leap Day & I haven’t been able to commemorate what I was doing during the last one for 4 years, & b) because finishing MW was such a significant accomplishment!

I started MW in January of 2019 because I was struggling emotionally. At the time, I was racing to figure out “what was wrong with me” before flying across the country for uni in the summer (SPOILER I WAS JUST AUTISTIC LMAO), which led to a lot of stressful and traumatizing appointments with doctors. I desperately needed a book to cheer me up but a different one from my WIP at the time, especially because in 2018, I’d both discovered my voice and become really afraid of messing it up!

I also was taking a religion class at the time that was emotionally difficult for me because I felt reallyyyy alone and especially isolated in my queerness that I’d been hiding for a couple years at that point (& that I literally would not talk about at all, not even to people I trusted). When it became very clear I needed an outlet to explore my feelings (of being “unhelpable,” internalized homophobia, a general sense of aloneness/isolation) the decision of what I was going to write became pretty clear.

I’d written 3 stories in Harrison’s POV that predated MW starting in late 2018 (they were also my first explorations in third person present tense, which fun fact, I only tried in his POV because I’ve always written my notes ideas in that POV/tense combo, even when I only wrote first person!). I hadn’t written in a different POV character’s head beside’s Reeve’s since 2016, so it felt natural that the second character I felt closest to (Harrison!!!) could be a narrator. Funnily at this time Lonan was my favourite so I’m actually surprised I did not choose him but can we imagine how different things would be if I had???

I started Moth Work in my notes app (ICONIC) on January 16th 2019 at 11:37pm! The first chapter came pretty quickly, is actually quite non-linear for a bit, and was overall a lot of fun to write. I’d planned for the project to maybe be a short story or at the most a novella (does this sound familiar), nothing very long and definitely not a novel. I believe the goal word count was 5k which is so funny bc that’s exactly how Changing States & Lost Gods started!!!

And then the project stagnated, it wasn’t something I’d planned to write seriously, and I didn’t pick it back up until August of that year when my therapist at the time suggested I try to complete a “reach goal” as I was reaching Crisis and I guess I was so done with everything going on in my life that I was like okay fine!!!! I will write Moth Work as a novel!!!!

This book literally flew with me across the country… I wrote a lot of it late at night in my dorm with all the lights off after a long day on campus. I wrote a lot of it in my intro to sociology lecture LMAO. I wrote a lot of it on my phone. It was the first project (no literally) where I intentionally explored queerness, especially my own feelings as a (sort of?) catholic at the time. I explored atheism a lot! Something I needed to process my own feelings about faith & God. I explored what it’s like to be this completely unhelpable person because you’ve decided there’s no possible way to help yourself anymore (hiiii Lonan). I also explored (a bit like a premonition), what it’s like to care deeply for someone you can’t help (but that you very badly want to help).

And I almost didn’t finish the book! The imposter syndrome and insecurity went crazyyy when writing Moth Work. I didn’t feel like I was writing the First Person Retrospective Flowery Literary Fiction I’d deemed as the only possible “good writing.” (Still LOVE but I really was struggling seeing a very minor style shift, which is funnily much closer to my writing now than when I was writing the “best” way.) I deleted so much from this book. I couldn’t look at it. I was so embarrassed by it!! I made ultimatums with it!! I edited it so much but still couldn’t stand it! It was literally the safest space I had and I could barely be there a lot of the time!!!

SOOOO this is why I’m very proud of me for finishing it lol & while I would typically have celebrated the anniversary idk, in 2021, bc it didn’t exist until this year it felt apt to sit with those feelings now. I’m really proud of 17-year-old Rachel who was undiagnosed autistic & convinced I was a lost cause, who was sooo afraid of being queer I could only think of that through Lonan (& sometimes still do thx king 🫡) who literallyyyyy wrote a masterpiece in my collection that contains some of my best work (even if I only realized that 4 years later) & that’s been the start of EVERYTHING!

This is so much more than a book or an anniversary!! Somehow I made it through all the things I didn’t think were possible and now have written 2 books & 3 (writing the fourth) novellas allllll in this world. AND 2 additional novels in his POV!! Also thank you baby Rachel for Jeremiah. Like hello!!!! This is the only place I felt safe to be myself when I couldn’t be with anyone else! And there’s something priceless about that…

And it’s all bc of Harrison!!! Whoever I saw in that man in 2019… girl thank you!! Can’t explain what it’s like to grow with that character (who is sooo much more than that to me). Never would I have predicted where I am now. And IMO, that’s all thanks to him so ily fictional man in my head, this is soooo his day LOL.

& if you were here since the first MW update & made it this far… I MUST KNOW!!!!

[willkimurashat]

Writing Patterns

Thank you for tagging me @queen-of-boops @justtuesdays @mrsbsmooth and @0shewrites0 💕💕💕

Rules: Share the first paragraph of your last five published works or as many as you are able and see if there are any patterns!

1. Serendipity

She couldn’t see a thing. Neither the shape of the room, nor the edges of the bed, or rather the mattress propped against the wall, pillows haphazardly thrown on top and barely covered with a blanket. She couldn’t see the last sunrays penetrating through the open window, casting their amber glows across her skin, painting shadows over her curves, outlining the planes of his carved out body, and highlighting the perfect angles of his slim face.

2. You Don’t Spell It, You Feel It

Do you believe in fairytales? I sure did, without shame. When Santa dips his cookies in milk and the chimney becomes a little too tight for him to squeeze through. When stuffed animals become your closest friends and come to life at night for you to confide in them your deepest secrets. When the rainbow maps the location of the treasured gold, destined to be lost and to never be found. Fairytales make us believe, and believing makes life worth living.

3. Beloved & Beloathed

Many things in life come in pairs. Sometimes they’re inseparable, like scissors, or glasses, or a Twix bar. Sometimes, they’re at opposite ends, tugging on each other for balance, like left and right, hot and cold, heaven and hell. Yet other times, they can exist on their own, but are only really useful when they’re together. Like paintbrush and watercolor, or a pair of chopsticks, or buying two shirts during the sale where the ad clearly reads “Buy one – get one free.”

4. We Spoke in Flower

I always hated the rain. Ironic, given I live in England. I just never got the appeal of the aesthetic. It’s rather difficult to look on the bright side, when all you see is grey skies and your skin doesn’t receive enough vitamin D. Runny mascara is much too angsty for me; the cold droplets almost piercing through my goosebump-covered skin, reaching straight to the bone. Leaky shoes, damp socks, dirt-splattered trousers, soaking wet collar. And umbrellas. Of course, umbrellas are always a pain. I’ve just given up on carrying them altogether – what’s the point anyway? I lost count of how many brollies I’ve broken or how many times I’d left one at home, naively hoping the sun is there to stay, only for it to start pouring. A useless invention, if you ask me.

5. Snog, Marry, Die

Oxford dictionary defines vengeance as a “punishment inflicted, or retribution exacted for an injury or wrong.” Anyone would hardly ever connect a free summer holiday under Mallorca sun, surrounded by hot singles, with “an injury or wrong.” And yet, each day spent locked in the villa, with the islanders constantly lying to her face, overexaggerating, following her around, stirring drama, and cheating behind her back chipped away her sanity. Piece by piece. Cell by cell. Atom by atom. Until she was way beyond her boiling point. Until the only thing that filled her, was the idea of punishment for all the wrongs she had to endure. Vengeance.

Tagging: @libelle949 @tammyisobsessedwith @operationnope @ellegreenwxy - no pressure! And sorry if you’ve already been tagged👉👈

[k1nky-fool]

The Better Half

Prologue Part I: The Better Half

Clarisse la Rue x OC: Jolene Concord

Summary: Jolene has managed to get the gods on Olympus to agree to bringing adult demigods back to Camp Half-Blood to help teach their younger siblings how to survive outside camp once they leave. Of course, asking such a big favor of the gods comes with a steep price.

Warnings: Technically aged-up characters, but since the Riordanverse spans almost 2 decades and there is a canon adult Clarisse, I'd say I've earned the right to think she's pretty, dammit! A healthy mix of callback characters and OCs, and plenty of angst to come.

Masterlist

By the unfortunate looks of things, none of the kids had been told about what was being planned. Several kids gathered near the porch of the big house as she was helped by a kind centaur that knew she’d have some trouble carrying her bags, and had stumbled upon her with the Party Ponies in New Orleans. The rest of the group was excited to see Camp Half-Blood again. 

“I see you made some friends on your way.” It had been a long time since she’d heard his voice in person. “Welcome back Jolene.” 

“Chiron, you know I’ve been going by Jo since long before I ever got here.” She laughed. “It’s good to see you, big boy.” 

“Woah, why are you back?” She really should have expected the question from him, but maybe just a part of Jo wished Mr. D had anything else to say to her after all these years, even after what happened on Olympus. 

“Good to see you too, dad.” Jo strained her features into a passive aggressive smile before turning back to Chiron with a much more relaxed expression. “Imogen, thank you for helping me with my bags, but you can go enjoy yourself with the party now. Don’t hold yourself back on my account.” 

“We’ll see you again, right?” Imogen asked. 

“As if I could miss Mardi Gras next year.” Jo feigned offense with a laugh. 

“You ran into the Party Ponies.” Chiron noted with a small note of reminiscing. 

Jo was off. “Sorry I’m late, I was in New Orleans, after Mardi Gras, and I knew I didn’t have a lot of time before my flight, but it was canceled! So I found the Party Ponies and I know centaurs can get across continents in a matter of hours, figured they’d be nice if I had something for them. But I remembered a massive commercial corn field that’s really been a problem for satyrs in the area, somethin’ about local pollinators gettin’ sick— and I told the ponies that if they got me to Half-Blood Hill before my appointment here, I’d teach ‘em how to make corn liquor and we could take out an invasive corn field. In hindsight, that was a bad idea, because we got drunk to celebrate their first batch, and when we made the shot for Half-Blood Hill, we ended up in Detroit.” 

“Quite the adventure.” He nodded. 

“Anyway, that’s my own fault, and I’m here now, so let’s talk counselors.” Jo smiled, heading into the big house with Chiron following closest behind. She took a seat at the table, grabbing a few snacks from the cupboard where she remembered Mr. D’s good stuff being ‘off limits.’ At least until she plied him with a bribe under Zues’s nose. “So, Camp Half-Blood is facing an itty bitty crisis.” 

“A small crisis would be an appropriate term.” Chiron said. “I remember your presentation to the gods two summers ago, and I must say, that was quite the show.” 

Jo knew Chiron was there, but she never saw him. The only security she’d had over the last few months was that she believed that Chiron hadn’t seen that fiasco. The problem wasn’t Zeus’s approval; sure, Jo was glad that the program had been approved for the first five years, but she knew as well as Chiron did that it had come with an ominous threat. 

Chiron knew as well as she did that the world was dangerous, and he’d done so much to teach them what he knew, but the world has been changing. Young demigods need to learn more than just how to fight monsters. 

“I’ve been in contact with several demigods across the world, even. Camp Half-Blood isn’t the only demigod sanctuary lookin’ to hiring staff counselors. I’ve spoken to a lot of half-bloods that would be willing to come back here to help out their little siblings.” 

“Who have you been in contact with?” Chiron asked. 

“Well, of course your favorite forbidden children said they’d be willing to at least stop by periodically to help out. Percy Jackson, and Nico di Angelo. But I managed to get an answer from Ruby Hendricks, Katie Gardener, Clarisse la Rue, Annabeth Chase, Jack Garcia, Nyssa Barrera, Nora Kingsman, Emily Schwartz, Butch Walker, Lilly Kandale, Willow Henderson, Laurel Victor, Jacob Lewis, Chiara Benvenuti, and Beatrice Herald.” Jo listed off. “From the looks of things, you have your pick.” 

“Do we really need one for every cabin?” Mr. D asked. 

“Probably not, but from the looks of things, it couldn’t hurt.” Jo gestured vaguely to the clearly busy camp. “Ever since you’ve got the new cabins gods have decided they suddenly don’t have that much of a space issue here at Camp Half-blood. I don’t know about you, but I probably wouldn’t be worried about having kids if I knew they’d be taken care of and my cabin can hold up to 20 at a time.” 

Chiron and Mr. D looked at each other with a knowing stare. 

“I’m not far off the mark from the look of y’all.” Jo laughed. “Listen, I don’t want the counselors to rain on y’all’s parade, but it’s clear with only thirty years left on Mr. D’s sentence here, you’ll have your hands more than full, Chiron. And who knows when any gods are gonna add another few bunks to their cabin to make room for yet another few bundles of joy.” 

If there was anything Jo knew she was good at, it was talking people into doing things. Thankfully, this was probably the most charitable thing Jo has ever tried to do, so maybe talking someone sensible and kind like Chiron into this would be a little easier. 

“Why are you doing this?” Mr. D finally asked in defiance. “Come on, you were never any kind of goody-two-shoes at camp. In fact, I remember well how you would blackmail me into giving you extra snacks and even a permanent gift from me.” 

“I’ll give you that, I was a rough kid, but I will say as soon as I got to Ireland, that gift came in handy.” Jo patted her shoulder where the mark was left. “Still dumb enough to get a hangover or two, but it helped when I got poisoned by a chimera in Seattle five years ago.” 

“What changed?” Mr. D asked again. 

Jo didn’t want to be the one to tell him, so she did the next best thing. She took a tiny jewelry box out of her pocket and placed it on the table. “I’ll need that back.” Mr. D took the box and opened it, finding an item she knew he recognized, but would pretend not to. 

“Just some camp beads?” He scoffed. 

“Chrissy Callaghan is dead.” Jo told them. “She wanted me to return her camp necklace to her mother in person.” 

All of the color drained from Chiron’s face as he realized exactly what Chrissy’s death meant to Jo. “I am so sorry, Jolene.” 

“Not easy to get hold of Athena.” Mr. D taunted. 

“Sorry to disappoint my father, but I ain’t smart enough to cook up this plan. The whole program was Chrissy and Annabeth’s idea.” Jo explained. “Chrissy stumbled onto a Lamia nest in Arizona. She got out the first time, but they caught her scent. She set a hotel room on fire, and got me out alive, down the fire escape, but she didn’t make it out.” 

“Seems like a lot to go through if you just wanted to return her necklace to her mom.” Mr. D noted. 

“Well, I reckon she’d be a lot happier if the program she’s been working on for five years actually follows through.” Jo responded, taking the box back. “As far as I’m concerned, the necklace is second priority for now.”

“You said Chrissy and Annabeth have been working on this for five years?” Chiron finally interjected. “How far have you come?” 

“Meaning I’ve got seventeen demigods waiting for the call to come back to Camp Half-Blood.” Jo said. “That’s why I came here before the summer campers got here, so you had a little more time to prep. And you know that Zeus approved it for the first five years to test its validity. The only thing standing in the way is your answer, Chiron.” 

“The only thing I’m concerned about is how these new counselors will handle meeting up with each other. I can think of a few demigods on that list that maybe shouldn’t be encouraged to compete with one another.” Chiron said. 

“Listen, we’re all a lot older now. We’ve grown out of the petty cabin feuds we were obsessed with when we were kids.” Jo said. “Though, it would help if maybe you didn’t encourage the counselors to fight each other, like keeping them out of capture the flag and chariot races. Though, don’t blame us if some of ‘em wanna compete in their own exclusive events. But we’ll keep it sportsmanlike. After all, this is a job we can lose if we’re too stupid with it.” 

“I will consider that on a case by case basis.” He warned. 

“Fair enough.” She nodded. 

“In the meantime, I will have their accommodations ready by tomorrow morning. We can discuss which cabins we need counselors for to know who we must call.” 

“Sounds great to me. Could I take a look around camp while we talk? It’s been a while and I can tell a lot has changed since I was last here.” 

“I’m happy to give you the tour one more time.” Chiron smiled, inviting her to come down to the cabins. 

“Ever since Percy made his demands, the Zeus and Poseidon cabins have been well populated. So, I do believe Percy and Ruby would have their work cut out for them.” Chiron noted as they passed the first three cabins. 

“I’ll note that. Anybody that doesn’t need a counselor?” Jo asked. 

“Apollo’s cabin has been sparse for a while. The youngest in cabin 7 is already sixteen, but I suspect there will be more in a few years.” Chiron noted. 

“Definitely sounds like some kids that need to learn about life outside of camp.” She figured. 

“The only cabin that is currently empty is cabin 13.” He explained. 

“Any idea why?” 

“Hades has never been much of a social butterfly. I wouldn’t expect another demigod in cabin 13 for another decade, but I’ve been wrong before.” Chiron figured. “I will announce the program at dinner tonight. You may introduce yourself to your younger siblings if you’d like.” 

“Thanks. I’m sure they’ll be excited that they’re the first to know about something for once.” Jo laughed, bidding him farewell until dinner. 

The cabin was just as mellow and pretty as Jo remembered it. “What’s up with you?” It was still February so there were only three kids in cabin 12, while cabins 1 and 3 had been pretty full. 

“I’m Jo Concord. I’m the first of seventeen counselors that will be returning to camp in order to help y’all learn how to survive after you leave Camp Half-Blood.” She explained. 

“Aren’t we already learning how to fight?” The oldest asked. 

“Yeah, but do any of y’all know how to find an apartment that you can defend from monsters?” Jo asked the group. “Any of y’all know how to hold a job or go to college with everything from gods to monsters betting against you?” 

It was a harsh reality that life would get a lot harder after leaving camp. And Jo knew first hand just how much they hated thinking about it. 

“Everyone is getting a counselor?” The youngest one asked, she looked no older than twelve years old. 

“Everyone.” She assured. “Chiron’s gonna announce everyone else’s counselors at dinner.”

“Wait, I know the name Jolene Concord.” The oldest said. “When I first got to camp, the counselor was Jo Concord. You were seventeen back then.” 

Jo took a closer look at the teenage boy. He himself was about sixteen, and he looked vaguely familiar. “Evan Tiffany?” The boy she remembered was only eleven years old, but the curly black hair, and blue, nearly purple, eyes stared back at her. “Oh my gods, you’re so big now, Evan!” 

He swooped her up into a hug, now being several inches taller than her. “You almost took my head off with a sword on my first day!” 

“I felt so bad, you were terrified of me for the rest of the year.” Jo recalled. 

“I just steered clear of you anytime someone gave you a sword.” He defended. “I only ever trusted you when you had a doru spear.”

“Always needed a double side.” She shrugged. “How many campers here in the summer?” 

“Seven total, so four more.” Evan answered. “I guess Mr. D’s managed to slip away from camp plenty during his sentence.” 

“Well, it was a sentence not to drink, not a sentence not to have any kids.” Jo figured. “Who are y'all?” 

“Amy Jefferson.” The youngest said. 

“Enzo Malbec.” The other boy said. “So you survived five years outside of camp?” 

“Had the help of an Athena kid, Chrissy Callaghan. We found an apartment in Denver that we could defend and monsters didn’t mess with us. But when we started gathering demigods to agree to come back to Camp Half-Blood, she didn’t make it past Phoenix.” Jo explained. “But we’re going to be here for you. It took a lot of work for this to be possible, and damn it, we didn’t give up.” 

“How many survive outside of camp?” Enzo asked. 

She knew this question was coming. Didn’t make it any easier to tell them the truth. “Not many, Enzo. But that’s why we’re coming. We’ve seen just how bad it gets out there for us, and we’re done leaving y’all to the wolves. You’ll learn from plenty of demigods that can show you the ropes, and even teach you things about your godly gifts you never even knew about.” 

“Like what?” Amy asked curiously. 

“Dionysus is a god of what was once called Maniae. Spirits of insanity, madness, and frenzy. You think children of Hecate or Hypnos are the only ones who can create hallucinations?” Jo asked, making it sound as though her voice was coming from all sides of the cabin but the place she was standing. 

“Alright, that’s pretty cool.” Enzo admitted. 

“That’s just the start of it.” Jo clapped in excitement. 

Chiron took to the front of the mess at dinner, and made the announcement that Camp Half-Blood Alumni would be returning to be counselors for their home cabins. He started by announcing that he had spent his afternoon Iris messaging Alumni for the position, and he started with cabin 20, working his way up. 

Cabin 20 didn’t remember Beatrice, which was understandable since the oldest was maybe fourteen. He made his way through the list to varying levels of excitement and chatter amongst the campers at their tables. At least until Chiron announced that Butch Walker would be returning to Cabin 14, and the table erupted into cheers and celebration. He announced Jo for Cabin 12, and Enzo, Amy and Evan gave her a competitive cheer since she was the first one here. 

The rest of the remaining cabins tried to out-cheer the last, however Cabin 6 seemed genuinely ecstatic that Annabeth Chase was coming back. As was Cabin 5 for Clarisse la Rue. Cabin 3 was already praying that if Annabeth was coming that meant their favorite problem child had to be coming too. As soon as Chiron announced that Percy Jackson was coming to camp, all Styx broke loose at table 3. Table 1 was disappointed that their favorite problem children were off the roster for reasons outside Jo’s control. However, some clearly still remembered Ruby Hendricks

The counselors would be arriving tomorrow. It had been a while since Jo had seen some of those demigods. Jo had found Clarisse in Seattle well before she ever met up with Chrissy. It’s been almost five years since she’d seen her, and it didn��t help that the last time they’d even spoken to each other, Jo was four bottles of wine deep into trying to heal the chimera sting that nearly killed her. It worked. Wine to a child of Dionysus is pretty much a panacea. Which apparently, isn’t the kind of thing that therapists like to hear. 

When Jo went to bed, it made sense that she’d wake up well after Annabeth got here, dragging a bleary-eyed Percy behind her. She was already holding a Q and A session with her cabin while Percy was giving sword pointers to a large group of his siblings. 

Surprisingly, Lilly Kendale arrived before nine am. She said she set the date on her calendar a day early, so she’d panic and think she’d missed it and arrive on time. Which was the exact kind of trick Jo knew her siblings would need. 

Most had arrived by noon, but as per usual, Beatrice Herald arrived in style, in her hearse and in full Addams family uniform. “Bea, whose funeral is it?” Jo called out. 

“I haven’t decided yet.” She deadpanned as she walked briskly past her without even looking in her direction. 

Nyssa Barrera and Clarisse la Rue were the only two left by four pm, but Nyssa arrived before the sun set. Clarisse was still nowhere to be seen. Jo wandered her way up to the big house’s porch from the galley with a snatched bottle of strawberry wine. 

Mr. D noticed her fairly quickly, but he noticed the bottle before he knew who was holding it. “Oh no, what do you want for it?” He asked. 

Jo chuckled, grabbing two glasses from the cabinet and filled them both. “Just to share it. I’ll ask you before I get the bottle if I want something from you.” She reasoned, offering him a glass. “If I want a good drinking buddy, I better have a good offering.” 

Mr. D inspected the wine label. “Strawberry?” He asked unimpressed. 

“It’s gotta be whatever I’ll miss the most right?” Jo defended. “I like strawberry wine, so you’re gonna put up with it. Consider yourself lucky I didn’t find a honey wine in there.” 

“Honey? Are you sure you’re my kid?” He joked, taking the offered glass. 

“Well you seemed pretty certain once I got here.” Jo said. “If I recall correctly, you said ‘Oh Styx, that one’s mine, isn’t it?’ and you claimed me as soon as I told you my name. Then you immediately forgot my name.” 

“I’ve got a lot of kids.” Mr. D shrugged. Jo knew a little more about him than he liked to believe. After she’d left camp, she realized that forgetting names made it a lot less hard to accept when they were dead. 

“I’m certain all your kids in the last sixty years have had the same curse.” Jo said, pouring herself and Dionysus another glass of wine. “We all get to know you when none of us could ever understand you. And we never understand you until long after we’ve left you behind.” 

“Really? How’s that?” He asked cautiously. 

“Wine to us is like healing. It doesn’t fog up the mind and interfere with our judgment like it does for everyone else.” Jo said, watching the pink liquid in her glass closely as the light reflected off the tiny, dancing bubbles. “We become the most honest versions of ourselves, sure, sometimes we still need help standing up straight, but there’s some kind of wisdom that comes to us when wine is involved. The biggest thing is that none of us can actually drink legally in this country until at least three years after we leave camp. But just a little after that we start to get it.” 

“Get what?” He probed. 

“Why you try not to get attached.” Jo stated. “I’ve only lived five years outside of camp, and I’ve had to say my last words to a lot of friends. But you’ve been alive for centuries. How could we even judge you when we know how much it hurts after just a couple decades? And right now, you don’t even got the wine to get you through the day. Zeus really didn’t think of the real world implications of keeping the God of alcohol, joyous gatherings, ecstasy, and insanity dry and out of his domain. In hindsight it seems cruel. Not just to you, but to your domain.” Dionysus stared at her with a skepticism she hadn’t seen before. “What?” 

“Nothing- it’s just… You’re the first person in sixty years that bothered to see it from my eyes.” He said. 

“Don’t get me wrong, you’re not off the hook yet.” Jo eyed him. “You could afford to be a little nicer to your kids. I know it hurts, but if you’re treating them like disposable byproducts of you getting laid, can you really expect any of us to give a flying biscuit when you’re in pain?” 

“Then what was all that about?” He whined. 

“Because I wanna show you it’s possible to show some damn empathy, even for someone you’re pissed off at.” Jo explained. “Look, I get it, this whole ‘drying out’ thing is cruel and stupid. I’ll swear off flying and call Zeus out for that any day, but you gotta put in some effort too if you don’t want your kids to resent you. Give ‘em just some basic empathy, and maybe they’ll give you the benefit of doubt. The best thing is, it’s free, and you don’t gotta manifest it.” 

“So really what changed is that you’re old enough to drink in this country.” Mr. D figured. 

“I’ll be the first to admit, wine solved a lot of problems that I thought were just weird teenage things, but were actually godly gifts out of control because I couldn’t drink the medicine for it legally.” Jo recalled. “In fact Chrissy and I pawned almost thirty drachmas to go into a fund for Cabin 12 kids to go to Ireland for college so they can drink their scent away from monsters for at least the first three years of their education. Turns out solid gold, greek coins are pretty coveted by coin collectors. Some of those drachmas have been in circulation for almost three thousand years.” 

“You always were clever as soon as you had a scheme.” Mr. D reminisced, the wine clearly influencing his attitude. “Speaking of which, how’s that mark treating you?” 

“You mean the best thing I ever asked you for?” Jo asked, pulling up her sleeve and showing off the tattoo that he’d left when he bestowed the gift upon her. It was a long thyrsus symbol with spiraling ribbons, framing the staff. “So long as I remember to invoke it, it hasn’t failed me. I could be black out drunk, and just a small invocation later, I’m sober as the day I was born.” 

“Means I did a good job.” He huffed proudly. 

“Yeah, sure thing, buddy.” Jo laughed, pouring the last of the wine between them. “Only one left is Clarisse.” 

“What, are you sad she's not here yet?” He jabbed. 

“I’m just surprised she’s late.” Jo defended. 

Mr. D wasn’t buying it, and she should have known. “Oh, come on! You sure it’s not because you used to have a crush on her?” 

“You can shut your trap, old man.” Jo finished off her glass of wine in a fast swig. Clarisse was four years older than Jo. So she didn’t even know Clarisse’s name until the age gap was from thirteen to sixteen, turning seventeen. Every kid gets starry-eyed about someone older than them, but of course Clarisse wouldn’t ever look her way because that would be weird. It wasn’t until they met after camp that it really developed into a crush, and Jo wasn’t even dating Chrissy yet.

Clarisse was the one that saved her from the chimera in Seattle. She also went to a liquor store and bought every bottle of wine she could carry to help heal her. Jo was eighteen, and Clarisse was twenty-one. They hadn’t seen each other since then. 

“You know the drunker you get, the better I can hear your thoughts.” Mr. D giggled into his glass. 

“There ain’t no way you ain’t lying.” She called his bluff. 

“You got a crush on la Rue!” Mr. D taunted in song. 

“You’re still lying. Ain’t no way you can hear my thoughts.” Jo doubled down. 

“Am I interrupting something here?” 

Jo all but jumped out of her skin. “Clarisse! Welcome back!” 

“Any reason you’re loud?” She took a step back. 

“I’m drunk.” Jo said the first thing that came to mind. 

“What’d you ask him for this time?” 

Mr. D abruptly stood like his legs moved on their own. Jo figured that must have been the diagnosis from the pale terror on his face. She could feel emotions around him, clouding him like a drowning victim. Almost as suddenly as it had started, it all disappeared. The fear on his face never went away, but that only told Jo that he was now consciously hiding it from her. 

“I have to go.” He said dry and quick as though he knew standing around for too long would give Jo more clues as to what was suddenly so wrong. 

He disappeared into the air, leaving barely a trace he was ever there in the first place. 

“What was that about?” Clarisse asked. 

Jo was fixated on only one thing. “He left the wine.” 

Clarisse cleared the last step and noted it with her. “Maybe Zeus saw it?” 

“I’m allowed to give him stuff, I’m a demigod. It’s a general offering to keep myself in the good favor of a god, my father, no less.” Jo defended herself. “No, Zeus knows this is well within the rules. If that’s his problem, then it’s his own fault for lettin’ me back into camp, knowing I would empathize with my dad.”

“So what could scare him like that?” Clarisse asked. Apparently, she didn’t have to be a Dionysian Empath to see he was terrified of something. 

“There ain’t much that could…” It was all Jo knew for sure. 

“Well, that’s a wonderful start to the job.” Clarisse jabbed. 

She joked back. “You’re late.” 

“Hit a harpy nest in Virginia Beach.” Clarisse explained. “Lost my bike off a cliff, so I had to take the train, but we know how fun public transportation is.” 

Jo hissed through her teeth. “What was on the train?” 

“Nothing I couldn’t handle, but I got here in one piece.” She shrugged. “Cabin 5 waiting for me?” 

“We’ve got our own rooms.” Jo mentioned. 

“Oh, hell yea.” Clarisse headed back down the hill to the Cabins and Jo didn’t have anything better to do but join her. They got down the hill a ways when she noticed everyone sitting around the bonfire. Or rather who wasn’t there. “That’s Annabeth.” She noticed first. “I thought-” 

Clarisse stopped as soon as she looked at Jo. “Chrissy didn’t make it past Arizona.” 

“Jo, that was a year ago.” She said like it could deny the truth. “You’ve been doing this alone for a year?” 

“Chrissy taught me a lot.” Jo shrugged. 

“Why didn’t you call me?” Clarisse asked. “I would have dropped everything-”

“That’s why I couldn’t.” Jo said, making her go silent. “We needed you in Florida. Sea Monsters crawling up the shores of Miami isn’t exactly the kind of thing I pull you away from.” 

“But you being defenseless across the Continental United States is the kind of thing I would drop it for!” Clarisse argued. 

“I ain’t defenseless!” Jo yelled back at her, but she immediately regretted it. “I’m sorry, Clarisse, but I can handle myself. I’d be pretty useless if I couldn’t learn from the best.” 

“She was one of the best.” Clarisse recalled. 

“Chrissy didn’t teach me how to fight.” Jo said, giving Clarisse a bit of a surprise. “Sure, she taught me how to think through a fight. But I’d say you kicking my ass for weeks taught me how to survive a fight.” 

“I only ever kicked your ass until you kicked mine.” She defended. “I’d say I was a little freaked out by you, even after I left camp.”

“Sorry, I didn’t have control over it back then.” Jo apologized. “If I had to kick your ass now, I’d be a little more tasteful with my use of the hallucinations.” 

“How about we just avoid trying to kill each other.” Clarisse laughed. “Leave that to the kids.” 

“Yeah, fair enough.” 

Percy was standing in the middle of the circle, next to the fire, arguing that the distance between the St. Louis arch and the Mississippi river was in fact short enough for him to jump, while Annabeth waited patiently to prove him wrong. 

“Percy, you would have had to jump over the entire highway as a twelve-year-old.” Annabeth argued. “The only reasonable explanation is that the water came to meet you. Which would not be surprising at all.” 

“So he’s still insane, huh?” Clarisse announced her arrival as Cabin 5 excitedly brought her to sit with them. 

Jo wished she’d grabbed another bottle of wine as Chiron started announcements on who got the first shower privileges from inspection, and the camp activities for tomorrow. Which included the good, old fashioned, Capture the Flag to celebrate the arrival of the new cabin counselors. 

“Our new camp counselors may advise their cabins, but they will not be participating in the battle.” Chiron said. “You may split up to divide yourselves amongst your teams.”

“I don’t suppose you were the Capture the Flag wiz of Cabin 12 while you were here?” Enzo leaned over and whispered to her. 

“Nope, I’m your sibling. That just means I know everyone, and what they’re best at.” Jo nudged him. “For Capture the Flag, you’re lookin’ for Annabeth Chase, Cabin 6.” She pointed in her general direction. “Really, what you wanna try to do is get Cabins 6 and 3 to get along. If they’re on different teams, then you’re gonna have a rough time with Cabin 6, but you have a good chance of winning. The idea is to get Cabins 5 and 1 on the same team. Hotheads from Ares and hotheads from Zeus don’t mix well when it comes to strategy, but make all the unearned confidence.” 

“We should get Canin 20 on that team too.” Amy interjected. 

“Interesting choice.” Jo said. “Elaborate.” 

“Hecate’s kids are unmatched in stealth. I think Cabin 6 would be happy for the addition to the team.” Amy explained. 

“Good thinking. Now this is a winter game, so everyone will be hurtin’ for numbers. Cabin 12 ain’t exactly a coveted squad, but we’re smart in a way they don’t know. We watch the people. Evan, you’ll need to reach the Athena cabin. Convince them that you can make them a perfect team.” Jo explained to the group. “Enzo, hit Poseiden’s cabin. Tell them that Cabin 6 could use their help. Play a little into the ego, but not too much. They tend to be a little more self aware than Zeus’s kids. And We’ll leave Cabin 20 to Amy. It was your idea, and you clearly know them the best. Do what you gotta.” 

The three of them split off to do their various tasks, and Jo couldn’t help but be proud of them. She knew first hand that her siblings were very often labeled ‘twelfth place.’ It was hard to feel like you could stand out when everyone else was doing victory laps around you in every feat of physical strength that Camp Half-Blood tested. But there was strength in knowing how to find the strongest people to surround yourself with. As good as Clarisse was, Annabeth was always twelve steps ahead of her. 

Maybe twelve steps was enough to get Jo’s siblings out of twelfth place. 

However, that was until the eldest camper from Cabin 5, swept up Enzo on his way to talk to the Cabin 3 kids. Jo looked to Clarisse from across the fire, to find she was already looking back. Alright, she didn’t have the patience to play games. 

Jo just got up, and made the walk across the loose dirt. “Alright, what’s your play?” 

“Nothing, I just told my little siblings how it is.” Clarisse shrugged. “The way to win Capture the Flag is to make a good team. If you want the perfect team, then Cabin 12 knows how to make it.”

So they were just playing the same game. Jo caught Enzo’s eye, only a few feet away so she was sure he would hear, and gave him a smile and a sure nod. “Under one condition.” Jo said. 

Clarisse didn’t look impressed. “Sure, what do you want?” 

“Y’all gotta work with Cabin 6.” Jo smiled with excitement. 

“What?” Clarisse stood to speak a little quieter to Jo. “I don’t know if Cabin 5 will be too happy about that plan.” 

“The faster they learn that they can’t afford to be divided outside camp, the better off they’ll be once they leave here.” Jo whispered back. “They gotta learn to see past another demigod’s parents to survive out there.” 

Clarisse watched her expression for a second, but conceded, taking a step back. 

“Y’all want the perfect team, right?” Jo asked, turning to the rest of the cabin. “Then Cabin 12 will take the recruiting from here.” 

Clarisse thought it through before turning to her siblings. “Well, it’s up to you guys.” She told them. “It depends on how much you trust Cabin 12 and the army they give you.” 

The oldest kid, who Amy had said was named Kyle, called for a cabin huddle to discuss it. When it finally broke up, he asked a question. “What’s the plan?” 

Enzo piped up excitedly. “The mind of Athena and the army of Ares. That’s a deadly combination, and it would secure victory, but it would mean you have to follow orders from Cabin 6. Strategy only gets you so far if your army is weak. With their strategy, your strength, and Cabin 12 keeping you both in line,” Enzo pointed at each accusingly and Cabin 6 in the distance, “Cabins 1 and 3 don’t stand a chance.” 

At the very least, Jo was certain that he was her sibling. Cabins were weird like that. Especially when there were a lot of kids sharing one space, like-minded siblings always tended to cluster together in their own groups. When Jo was a kid, there were maybe three groups of sure siblings in Cabin 12. Hers tended to enjoy flying under the radar to avoid trouble while getting away with a lot of stuff they really shouldn’t have been doing. 

“I’ve also got some other ideas.” Jo clapped. “There’s an odd number of cabins, but if we make Cabins 1 and 3 work together, they’re bound to mess up. Give them the extra cabin, and make ‘em feel safe, and I’ll tell you which eight will make your perfect team.” 

Kyle shrugged. “Alright, tell us who to get.” 

With Cabin 5 on the job, getting the rest of the team would be easy. However, Jo figured she’d need to convince Annabeth and Cabin 6 with a different technique. “Small change of plan, Evan. But mostly I need to inform our potential allies before they make an uninformed choice.” 

“What’s this about, Jo?” Annabeth asked. 

“Enzo and I ended up speaking to Cabin 5, and they’re prepared to take orders from y’all.” Jo explained. “And they’ve gone off to recruit the other five cabins for our team.” 

“Five?” One of the younger kids asked. 

“Well, if there’s anything that I’ve learned, it’s that people make mistakes when they think they’re safe.” Jo said. “The idea is to get cabins 1 and 3 to be overconfident in their abilities, while the mind of Athena wields the sword of Ares. And with the other five, I’m confident that Cabin 6 will know exactly what to do with their forces.” 

“Who’s on your list?” Annabeth asked. 

“Listen, Cabin 12 is here to keep you and Cabin 5 from turning on each other. Y’all don’t bother them and they don’t bother you, or else y’all incur the wrath of the god of insanity.” Jo said right off the bat. “Amy went to recruit Cabin 20. They’re unmatched in their powers of stealth, and Amy figured y’all would know how to use that.” 

Several kids immediately began whispering amongst themselves with ideas for that kind of team. 

“With Cabin 9, we can get the best defenses for our forces, and Cabin 11 will make great for guard posts. Gods know they’ve got numbers.” She continued, and the chatter grew with more excitement. “Cabin 17 might seem a little cliche, but we gotta face it, they’re great in a pinch, especially if things get bad. Cabin 19 as well, but your sword or spear falling just within reach or just out of reach is crucial when dealing with a team that really just has overpowering force going for ‘em.” 

Annabeth turned to the kids, and simply allowed them to make the decision. “It’s up to you guys.” 

The cabin was unanimous. If they didn’t want to be on the team, at the very least, they didn’t want to fight it when they had the opportunity to lead it. 

The kids got to planning as the counselors stayed back, offering a small tip here and there. 

“I haven't fought against Percy in a while, so this'll be fun.” Annabeth noted. 

“I'm just surprised the kids are getting along.” Jo said. “Cabin rivalries are centuries old. I know I said this was the best team Camp Half-Blood has ever seen, but its success is entirely dependent on how fast these kids can mature and realize that demigods can't afford to stay divided out in the real world.” 

“You really think our parents don't matter after we've left camp?” Annabeth asked, more probing for her thought process than questioning her statement. 

“Maybe it's different for me ‘cause my dad's stuck at camp.” Jo admitted. “And maybe it's different for you, being Athena's kid and havin’ more than a snowball's chance in Hades in a fight, but I can't afford to care who your parents are out there. Demigods are my people. If I can't count on my people or they can't count on me, then we're all as good as dead. As far as I'm concerned, the sooner the kids learn that, the better off they'll be.” 

“Not all Demigods end up in a good place.” Annabeth folded her arms against the cold breeze. “You can't trust everyone.” 

“All the more reason for us to be here, then.” Jo stated. “Teach ‘em how to spot someone unstable, untrustworthy, or dangerous.” 

“So we're stand-in parents for the gods?” Annabeth asked. 

Jo cackled. “I'll note you've been hanging ‘round Percy too much, but I reckon that's called a nanny.” 

“So we're demigod nannies.” Annabeth figured. “Fun. Not like we're known for trying to kill each other or anything.” 

“We're getting paid to not do that.” 

“I know, Chiron offered a nice salary in his Iris message. I just think we have our work cut out for us.” Annabeth said. 

“I think deep down, all demigods know we're in this together.” Jo mused. “If we can't trust each other, then who else do we have?” 

“Percy always said that if he was a demigod, then the human was always the better half.” Annabeth recalled. “It’s not hard to see why. Just look at how they treat each other. How they treat their kids, and even how they treat strangers. But I don't think centuries of rivalry between Ares and Athena will be washed away with a cute game of Capture the Flag.” 

“One day at a time, Annabeth.” Jo assured her. “Sure, maybe it all goes pear-shaped, but that's when it's our turn to do our job. That's when all of our attention has to be on how they should have worked as a team instead of pursuing personal desires.” 

“Yeah, we've got our work cut out for us.” Annabeth sighed as the conch sounded off for the kids to go to bed. The kids made their way back to their cabins while the new counselors stayed around chatting. “Jo, I know why I'm here.” 

“Listen, I know you mean well, but I'm gettin’ real tired of explaining it-”

“You don't have to; Chiron caught me up.” She said, digging into her pocket. “I actually had something to give you.” 

“What's this?” Jo asked. 

“It was a gift from Chrissy before I left Camp.” Annabeth said. “She said ‘I'd need it out there,’ and I meant to give it back to her when you found us in Chicago. I figured she'd need it more than I did, but now I think you need it more than either of us.” 

The object was an old Zippo lighter, but Jo knew better at this point than to assume it was as simple as it looked. Flipping the lid did nothing, but sparking the flint turned the lighter into a greek kopis that fit her hand perfectly. “I remember her havin’ this at Camp.” 

“Yeah, Beckendorf made it. She called it his ‘first masterpiece,’ and named it Psithuros.” 

“Whisper.” Jo chuckled. “She always did have a sense of humor.” 

“Well, I’d say asking Nyssa to make a sword that’s hidden in a tampon was probably her best bit.” Annabeth mused. “What did she name that one?” 

“Aimolypsia. Bloodlust.” Jo cackled, flicking the lid back of the sword and compressing it back into a lighter. “She might’ve lost her life, but she sure as Styx ain’t losin’ her sense of humor.”

“Who knows, maybe she decided to get reincarnated to take a shot at going to Elysium.” Annabeth said hopefully. 

“I know she did.” She was sure of it. “In our vows, Chrissy and I promised that we would always find each other, even after death, even if it takes centuries. We included that line because we knew that if we died, we would do everything we could to find each other in Elysium.” 

“She’ll probably be another demigod.” Annabeth said. “You’ll probably meet a kid that asks her Cabin 9 friend to make a shield hidden in a maxi-pad.” 

Jo nodded. “Yeah, but give it at least a decade. Hopefully by then it won’t hurt as much to know she’d got some big challenge ahead of her.” 

“Hopefully by then we’ll be a little more prepared for her than Camp Half-Blood was for Chissy.” Annabeth said. “I might have been the problem child of my siblings, but Chrissy was the wild card. So at least, she’ll be easy to spot.” Annabeth joked. 

“Who knows if she’ll even be recognizable?” Jo figured, seeing Clarisse give Percy a playful punch to the arm that definitely hurt as she began heading their way. “Either way, I’ll be ready. Treat every kid with respect and I ain’t gotta worry about hurtin’ her, ya’know?”

“Well, it’s only our first day. I don’t think this will stay easy for long.” Annabeth said as Clarisse joined them. 

“Hey, maybe we can get through a year before we have to worry about any fate-altering crisis.” Jo assured her. 

“Hate to agree with Wise Girl, but she’s not wrong.” Clarisse said. “The gods take note of big changes at Camp Half-Blood. My father still isn’t a big fan of Percy or Annabeth, and every demigod from here has a long history with angering one god or another. It wouldn’t surprise me if many wanted us to prove our right to be here.” 

“Wow, it’s like you're giving them ideas.” Annabeth deadpanned. 

“Assume anything I say, my father has thought up well before me.” Clarisse sighed. “As far as I’m concerned, Jo is right. Demigods can’t afford to be divided outside camp. I’d be dead if I couldn’t trust Chrissy or Percy, Jo would be dead if she couldn’t trust me or Chrissy, and the Red Capture the Flag Team will fail if they can’t trust each other.” 

“You really matured out there, huh?” Annabeth noted. 

“Well an all-out war in the streets of New York definitely makes you reevaluate your priorities.” Clarisse shrugged. “And the next nine years of life after camp convinced me that I’m just happy when I meet another demigod. We don’t get to choose teams outside camp. Usually we only say it if we have time to explain before something is trying to kill us.”

“Well, considering we usually only ever cross paths when a monster is involved, I’d say that makes sense.” Annabeth said. “And a lot of us already know each other, but that won’t last forever. Eventually there will be a generation of young demigods leaving camp that none of us know.” 

“Well, then good thing we’re here.” Jo said. “We can make leaving just a little easier. And I don’t know about you, but give me a couple decades, and I’m ready to retire, and get some young demigod to take up the job. If we do our jobs right, our numbers won’t be scarce enough to worry about.” 

“Assuming we don’t face any fate-altering crisis.” Annabeth added. 

“Don’t jinx us, Annabeth.” Jo nudged her. “I should probably head to bed. I ain’t gotta worry about weird growling sounds outside here, so I’m gonna take advantage of that while I still can.” 

“I did miss the absence of creepy knocking on my windows.” Annabeth sighed in agreement. 

“I’m just glad I’m out of the military.” Clarrisse deflated, breathing in the peaceful air. “But the amount of explosions I’ve heard has been at a nice zero since getting here.” 

The next morning was full of Capture the Flag enthusiasm. At least everyone that was a morning person, of which Jo was not one, especially not after half a bottle of wine and forgetting to invoke her seal. 

“Katharos” Jo commanded, and the lingering feeling lightened, but the headache would be a problem until she could get some Ibuprofen or a bite of ambrosia. Or until she drank enough water to subside it, but that always took forever, so she snuck up to the big house and snagged a small brownie-sized chunk and ate it quickly before heading to the mess hall for breakfast. 

She couldn’t help but think of what Clarisse said last night. She didn’t even know how right she was, but of course she could only guess about how bad it could get. 

Jo almost missed the mess hall offering fire. It was hard to afford a house with a fireplace, and it was even harder to build a fire outside and hope you didn’t get found by something dangerous. So the safe opportunity to ask the gods for something was not wasted. The counselors went after the kids in cabin order and all mumbled something to the fire for a brief moment before letting the next person come up. It seems that growing up gives you a lot more to ask the gods for. And as much as Jo wanted to beg Zeus for mercy, she knew she had a job. 

“Athena, I have something that I gotta give you in person.” She said, dumping her entire serving of perfect bacon into the fire. “I know I wasn’t the person that was supposed to make it this far. I’m sure both you and I agree that I shouldn’t-” Jo took a deep breath to stop herself from breaking down. “We both know I shouldn’t have survived this long. But now that I’m here, I gotta be the one to make this work. Please give me the wisdom to make this work, and keep me alive until my work here is done.” 

As per usual, there was no immediate reaction from the fire, except what smelled like a baking peach pie from the smoke. Gods answered in their own time, and demigods usually didn’t like the answer. It was never a straight yes or no to your request. It was either a ‘no, but this works better’ or a ‘yes, but this is gonna suck the whole time,’ and Jo wasn’t exactly excited for that, so she really hoped it was a ‘no’ from Athena. Just to save camp from the trouble of being bad for everyone. 

Whether she liked it or not, Capture the Flag today was a wonderful way for the counselors to get a baseline for what they had to work with. It made sense why Chiron had chosen Capture the Flag instead of any other number of combat games. It was a challenge of strength, strategy, and teamwork, so it was a good idea for training young demigods how to fight for themselves. Though, several cabins had lost that ‘teamwork’ idea, or threw all caution to the wind with a strategy that sacrifices their team, or thought they could get by on the efforts of their team while they screwed off playing poker deep in the woods with their siblings. Maybe Jo knew a thing or two because she’d done a thing or two. Or a hundred. 

As the conch sounded off for everyone to begin preparing for the game, Jo was eager to see how this played out. All of the counselors sat at the edge of the open territory with Chiron as he watched the forest. 

“Jo, right?” Someone tapped her shoulder, and she turned to see everyone’s favorite problem, Percy Jackson. “Your first year was the same as Tyson’s.” 

The name Tyson rang a bell she hadn’t thought of in a long time. “The cyclops?” she asked, to which he nodded. “Oh, yeah. I feel real bad about how that went back then.”

“Everyone was on edge, but I remember you gave him a cosmic brownie, so I guess you were nicer than others.” Percy noted. 

“I was never a big fan of brownies anyway, and he asked for it, so I wasn’t just gonna let it go to waste.” Jo shrugged. “Have you heard from him at all?” 

“Tyson? Yeah, He and his wife came to visit for Thanksgiving -I helped my mom make a lot of food- anyway, I heard from Chiron that something happened when you presented your plan on Olympus.” Percy pried. 

“Chiron can’t keep his mouth shut, huh?” Jo grumbled. 

His hands went up in defense. “I’m kinda just the guy that people call when stuff gets weird, and I’m very persistent when I hear from Chiron that Zeus is mad at someone.” 

Jo wasn’t the type to immediately call Percy when something weird happened. If she did that, she’d talk to him more than his wife. She was, however, aware that Percy was more experienced than any other demigod here with gods demanding they prove themselves. She pulled Percy aside, to speak a little more quietly. “Yeah, I ain’t exactly in Zeus’s good graces. What do you know?” 

“Chiron didn’t tell me much, but Annabeth did manage to get him to admit that you were on the verge of something ominously dangerous.” He said. “And the only reason he’d know before Annabeth is if it happened while she wasn’t on Olympus for once.” 

Jo took a deep breath before she even thought of telling him anything. “I swear if I tell you this and suddenly Annabeth is giving me tips, I won’t promise she will never find you, but that she will never stop finding you, Percy Jackson.” 

“Alright, I can keep my mouth shut.” He assured. “Just tell me what this is about.” 

It was hard for her to actually say it, but she had to admit it to someone, and the one guy that might actually be able to tell her what to expect was a damn good candidate. “You remember the plan that Chrissy and I showed you in Chicago?” 

“Yeah, that’s why we’re all here.” Percy recalled. “I also wasn’t expecting to come here with Annabeth. I’m sorry to hear.” 

“When Chrissy and I presented that plan on Olympus that summer, Zeus gave us an ultimatum. If we could not prove the worth of the program in five years, it would be discontinued.” 

“That’s pretty tame for Zeus.” Percy noted. 

“‘Cause that’s not all.” Jo said. “He said that proving the worth of the program would fall to me and Chrissy alone. Only our performances would be considered, in whatever way every god wanted to test our worth.” 

Percy’s eyes snapped to her expression, as if searching for some clue as to how he was supposed to react to that. “Oh, my gods, Jo.” 

“And with Chrissy gone-” 

“All of that now falls to you.” Percy nodded. “Well, Annabeth said you were a little antsy about a ‘fate-altering crisis’ she didn’t figure out that you were the fate-altering crisis.” 

“What did Annabeth tell you?” Jo scoffed, leaning back, and waiting for him to explain himself. 

“She just figured you knew more than you were letting on.” Percy said. “And she also figured out that Chiron knew.” 

“Is she gonna be able to wear you down?” She asked with impunity. 

“Jo, I’m going to tell you something wild.” Percy said, “Annabeth trusts me when I tell her I promised to a friend that I would keep my mouth shut.” 

“And what will she do after that?” Jo asked. 

“I can never know for sure.” He realized all at once. “But she’ll find out one way or another. If it’s really that important to keep it from Annabeth, I suggest you threaten Chiron too.” 

“I’m not worried about Annabeth finding out, I’m worried about Annabeth finding out from you.” Jo said. “If she really wants to press you about it, just tell her to ask me about it. At least I can tell her I don’t need her to interject herself into it. If I need her help, I’ll ask her.” 

“I get that.” Percy figured. “Do you remember the exact words Zues used? I know that sounds dumb, but gods never say anything they don't mean to.” 

“I- Uhh… ‘As the curators of this institute, you may not shirk responsibility in the event of its failure. ‘You two alone shall be obligated to prove the worth of this initiative. If you both are brave enough to face a trial from each god on this council.’” Jo quoted as she remembered. 

“Alright, so I don't know about you, but that sounds an awful lot like you have thirteen trials ahead of you.” Percy said. 

“No way, really? I hadn't thought of that.” Jo deadpanned. 

“Well, Annabeth always said that Zeus likes to keep things simple.” He remembered. 

“Maybe I should have just asked Annabeth.” 

“Probably, but this was your choice.” He said quickly. “Now, that motion requires a vote, so do you remember the order they voted in?” 

Jo wracked her brain for details, but while she was usually great at drawing details, Olympus always had a way of overwhelming her, and her attention was mostly on Zeus as he did what she thought was sealing her fate. 

“Hermes voted first.” She remembered. “Demeter was next. After her… Hera voted no, but since it was a majority, she still has to participate. Then Hephaestus, but I don't remember if Apollo or Artemis voted after him, but I know Apollo voted yes while Artemis voted no. I'm sure Dionysus voted no after them, and Ares, Hades or Aphrodite maybe, no idea what order they voted in. And Athena, Poseidon, and Zeus went last in that order. Your dad voted yes if you're curious.” 

“I'm actually a little relieved to hear that.” Percy chuckled. “But honestly, I expected your answer to be ‘no’ so you already have a great start.”

“So you think Hermes will be up first?” Jo asked. 

“Hey, if there's anything the king of the gods loves, it's enforcing an arbitrary rule.” Percy said. “That being said, expect Ares to break it.” 

“Yeah, figures.” Jo groaned. “Do you think they’ve already started?” 

“I think you would know if they started.” Percy said. “When the gods get to testing their kids, they aren’t usually discreet. Zeus will probably give you some ominous warning that it’s time to start fighting for your life.” 

“Usually.” Jo repeated with concern.

“Artemis, Athena, and my dad are more likely to be a little more covert, but they’ll follow the rules for one reason or another.” Percy said. “That’s just my experience.” 

It occurred to Jo all at once that if there was anyone that could give her an honest idea of what the gods might do, it would be someone that knows them on a strangely honest and personal level. Like Percy. “What do you think they’ll do?” 

Percy hissed through his teeth and leaned against the rock, staring up at the treeline. “Hermes loves a time limit. He won’t play around with a test of physical strength, but expect your life to be on the line in every single test.” 

“Anybody that won’t try to kill me?”

He didn’t look too optimistic about that question. “Maybe Apollo. He’s always been a pretty chill dude. He’ll probably have some test of character or vulnerability, or poetry… You might have to rap-battle a god.” 

That might be enough to get her to give up. “Sweet Styx stew, I hope not.”

“Maybe your dad doesn’t want to kill you?” Percy asked, but he looked over her shoulder to see Mr. D sipping a diet coke while two kids battled right past him without even batting an eye at the kid that fell face-first into the muddy creek bank. “I wouldn’t count on that.” 

“So after Hermes was Demeter, what’s she like?”

“Jo, I could give you my best guesses as to what the gods could want from you, but in my experience, dealing with the gods is like dealing with cause and effect.” Percy explained. “Annabeth always said that the stories of the gods are like a guidebook to learning from them. Sure, they’re not going to tell you exactly what to expect, but the themes, and meanings of those stories are the lessons they want you to learn from them. Believe me, it’s better to have the formula than to just guess from someone else’s experience with the gods.” 

“So, figure out the stories, and I’ll figure out what they want me to know.” Jo gathered. 

“Hey, if they’re gonna test you, I think you should be allowed to study.” Percy gave her a friendly jab. 

“Well, as much studying as I can do.” Jo figured. “Speaking of which, I had something I wanted to ask you.” 

“Really?” He seemed a little perplexed. 

“I suck at swingin’ a sword.” She admitted honestly. 

“I remember.” Percy said, and got a reflexive punch in the arm, followed by a sharp hiss in pain. “Why are your fists so bony?” 

“I got Chrissy’s sword from Annabeth.” Jo said. “It would make a great secondary weapon if I knew how to use it. When we have some free time, I’d appreciate it if you and Annabeth could help me figure it out.” 

If his frozen expression was anything to go by, she had at the very least surprised him. “Yeah, sure. I guess we could help you out.” 

“You sure?” She asked. 

“Yeah, I guess I’m surprised you didn’t ask Clarisse.” Percy said. 

“Well, she uses a spear, so I figured the swordsman would know a little more about swords.” She reasoned, but was a little confused as to why he’d assume that. 

“Yeah, cool. I’ll let Annabeth know you want some sword combat pointers.” He said, as they took note of a few Cabin 11 kids rushing down the territory with the blue flag. 

“Oh, will you look at that.” He chuckled. “Little thieves snuck it right out from under their noses.” 

“You don’t seem all that concerned.” Jo noted. 

“That’s because you didn’t count on Cabin 3’s counselor learning from Annabeth Chase.” Percy said. 

All at once, a six kids in armor erupted from the ocean waves, blocking off the escape for the kids with the flag. “That’s a flashy trick.” Jo feigned offense. “But good work. Unfortunately, we actually had Annabeth Chase advising the red team.” 

Percy’s expression dropped, knowing it wouldn’t look good for long. Jo knew it was coming, so she covered her ears, noting she might have to apologize to Clarisse for Cabin 9’s decision to raise the number of explosions on campus exponentially. 

Kids hiding at the border, covered by foliage overgrown by the Cabin 12 kids, emerged and began throwing fireworks -courtesy of Cabin 9- at the shore, kicking up sand and snow alike, while the Cabin 20 kids froze the now flying water into a wall between Percy’s siblings and the sea. 

“Now that’s flashy!” Percy accused her right back. Two separate teams of Ares and Athena’s kids fighting together cleared a way for their runners to complete their quest. 

The red team had won Capture the Flag.

[boombambaby]

The Win-Win Meet Cute Pt. 2!

He clears his throat to get his attention, and when that doesn’t work, he slides himself over to the bench he’s sitting on and rests one of his big hands across Kuzco’s shoulders. “Kuzco, listen. It might not be so bad to go to school. You’ll be with kids your own age— you might even be able to make a few friends.”

“I have friends! I have lots of friends, the coolest friends in the Kingdom, actually.” Comes the petulant reply, muted by his arms which are resting on the table and covering his face. Pacha is careful to hide his amused smile behind a cough, and he pats his back consolingly. “I’m sure you do. But my point is; it’s not the end of the world. A few years of school, and that’s it— you’ll be back on your throne before you know it.” Kuzco heaves a sigh as he straightens up again, brushing his hand against the front of his poncho in an effort to straighten it out. It’s the one Chicha was kind enough to knit for him, and secretly one of his all time favorite gifts. Without really thinking, he scoots a little further away from Pacha on the bench seat, further emphasizing his ‘no touchy’ rule. “That’s not even the worst part though, Pach. They’re cutting off the royal funds! I can’t even live in the palace OR my summer vacation hut until I graduate or get married! I’ve never not lived in the palace— how am I supposed to survive out here on my own!?” Pacha and Chicha share another meaningful look, with Chicha’s turning far more annoyed than Pacha really thinks the situation calls for. Resigned to her fate, Chicha sets the scroll back down on the table and folds her arms over her chest. “Well, Kuzco. You know you’re always welcome in our hut. Perhaps you should stay with us during your schooling.” She bites out, aiming for pleasant and missing by a mile. For a moment, Kuzco’s thrown by the offer— not used to such a blatant offer of kindness with no hidden meaning behind it. In the next moment however, he chirps a teasing “Mommy!” In Chicha’s direction, if only to see her expression fall completely flat with aggravation. “Don’t call me that. I’m serious, Kuzco. You can stay with us— but I’m warning you, we don’t have a ton of room here. You’ll have to share with Chaca and Tipo until we can figure something out. And I’ll expect you to continue helping me with chores.” It’s a better offer than he was expecting, if he’s being honest. He’d only come here for Pacha’s sage advice and to air his frustrations, not to ask for their generosity in the matter. He’s touched, warmed by the idea that these peasants who he barely knows, yet could consider the closest thing he’s ever had to a family would offer him their home in his time of need.

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Kuzco is still contemplating their offer and his future choices as he makes his way back down Pacha’s hill later that day. He’d taken the week off to get his bearings, and isn’t expected back at the palace with an answer for another five days. That should give him plenty of time to get his llamas in a row and decide whether or not he’s going to call those brides back in for another line up, or actually do this ‘school’ thing. He’s leaning towards picking a bride; what better way to get this over with as quickly as possible? With a bride, he’s guaranteed a future heir, and he can take back his throne by the end of next week. It’s a win-win.

He’s just rounding the bend for his own hilltop, still deep in thought when he’s startled by the sound of something crashing. Kuzco stops to take in the scene, and immediately finds himself staring at one of the most beautiful girls he’s ever seen. She’s absolutely perfect— far more stunning than those brides who were brought in, all dolled up and polished to respond to him exactly as they believed he would want them too. She has perfect, long dark hair, perfect eyes, a perfect little nose— he’s never been taken by someone’s beauty like this before.

He watches as the girl hurries to set her things down and stride over to the elderly farmer who had dropped a full barrel of corn, stooping down to help her pick up the fallen cobs. Wow. Beautiful AND generous? Could she be any greater? It’s then that Kuzco realizes with a start that this entire situation is exactly what he needs! A meager little peasant girl would kill to be swept away by a man with his charm and good looks! Taken from this peasant-y village life to live in the grand palace in the city— and with her as his beautiful empress, he’d be able to stay Emperor without having to gain an education!

A self assured hand brushes the hair off of his shoulders, and his fingers sweep across his eyebrows to smooth them out. He doesn’t need a mirror in front of him to know how handsome he is, and he’s all but radiating suave, self assured bravado as he struts his way over to where they’re kneeling in the dirt. Women fall all over themselves for his attention, of which he’s more than happy to give them. This should be no different! She’ll be putty in his hands, and he’ll be an emperor again in no time!

[japrilsanatomy]

Hey, so I’ve had this story in my drafts for a while now. I’ve never actually written fanfiction before, so this might be absolutely terrible, but sometimes you’ve just gotta get it out, you know?

Anyways, this story takes place at the end of Black Widow (2020). It dictates how Natasha reunited with her former teammates and how everyone got to the positions they were in in Infinity War. Romanogers, too, of course. Let me know if I should keep writing. Reviews are appreciated!😊

How We Stay Together

After the events of Black Widow, Natasha is on her own again. But what happens when she comes across a familiar face while breaking Team Cap out of prison? Can she earn their trust back? 

Chapter One: Everything Has Changed

Nat approached the stolen quinjet, her freshly died platinum bob mussing a bit in the light summer breeze as she said her farewells to Mason. “Where are you gonna go?”

     Nat had been pondering that question for a few days herself. She knew she was still a fugitive and she had to law low for a while after all of the uproar the events two weeks ago sparked. “It’s funny, my whole life I didn’t think I had any family. Turns out, I’ve got two.” Over the past month or so, Nat had felt a sort of emptiness. She didn’t realize how much the Avengers really meant to her until she didn’t have them anymore. “One of them’s a bit of a mess right now, I’m gonna go break a few of them out of prison, see if I can’t help patch things up.” She gave a last glance to her friend before turning and walking away.

     A few hours later, Nat sat thoughtfully in the pilot seat, feet propped up next to the controls. Now that she was thinking about it, she was quite nervous to see her former team members again. After all, she chose a different side when it came to the whole accords situation and fought them in Leipzig. She wasn’t sure if they’d accept her again. Wanda, Clint, Sam, they were some of her closest friends, but she didn’t know if they’d forgiven her yet, or if they ever would.

     But if she was being honest, the person she was most worried to see again was Steve. The two of them had grown close after working together as SHIELD operatives for two years, and then proceeding to take down HYDRA and the Winter Soldier largely on their own. He taught her how to trust and open up to people, and now he meant more to her than probably anyone on Earth. She didn’t know what she would do if he rejected her. It hurt to choose Tony’s side over Steve’s when it came to the accords, as she of all people knew how corrupt a government could be, but she made the best choice she could to keep her family together. Of course, that wasn’t the outcome, and now she’d maybe lost the few people she’d ever called friends. Of course, she’d ultimately let Steve and Bucky go in the end, but would it be enough to make him forgive her?

     Not long after, Nat could see the faint outline of the raft prison. “Good God”, she said to herself. “This is a bit overkill, don’t you think, Ross?” It just occurred to her that she didn’t really have a plan. This was going to be a lot harder than she thought.

     Nat circled the perimeter and concluded that there weren’t any guards in the area. She touched down as quietly as she could near the edge of the building. She was thankful for the cloak offered by the dark night sky as she made her way to the nearest window. On her way she saw another quinjet a few hundred feet away. Someone’s already here… she thought.

     Of course the window was locked. Why wouldn’t it be? Natasha kicked the glass hard with her boot a few times, and once the glass was cleared away she slowly squeezed her way through the small opening. She landed on her feet at the end of a dimly lit hallway, and she could see what she assumed was the main control room at the opposite end. Perfect.

     She cautiously made her way towards the center of the floor, glancing down each branching hallway and sneaking past a few guards before they could see her. Her breath caught in her throat as she saw her former leader and friend hunched over what appeared to be the surveillance system, surrounded by unconscious men who must have been on duty when he arrived.

[fire-branded]

lured-into-wonderland asked: It was like another world. Rosalith was nothing like the lavish capital city of the Sabrenque Empire. It seemed simple, almost poor. She tried not to look sad or disappointed; after all it wasn’t that she didn’t appreciate the future archduke efforts to make her feel welcomed and at home. But it was so hard to disregard her ladies-in-waiting complaints that life in Rosaria was so modest; so inferior when compared to the luxury of the imperial court they were all used to. Exile was often whispered when they thought the royal princess was not listening. But she was. It wasn’t that Nunnally was disappointed with Elwin himself; in fact the perhaps unexpected kindness of her fiancé was something that helped her to survive. These days and nights that she longed for her home, for the place she grew up in. It was even harder as Nunnally doubted she’d ever gain appreciation from Rosarian ruling family (and probably from the members of the court as well). Rosaria was not something she had been prepared for. She was a stranger and a stranger she’d remain.    So, the royal princess decided she needed to act. To start change things that were annoying to her. After all, it was going to be her home. The marriage was sealed, and she didn’t expect these arrangements to get broken. Not that she wanted that to happen. Nunnally stopped her walk on the castle gallery noticing her future husband standing alone next to the closest tower. This view brought a smile on her lips. She wasn’t sure if he had noticed her, but it wasn’t that she was going to avoid the meeting. She had already made up her mind. “My Lord…” – she waved to the young heir of the archducal throne making sure he’d notice her (if he had not before); she quickly approached him taking him arm. Well, that should keep others at reasonable distance. “Do you feel like taking a small stroll?” – she asked politely, although, indeed, the princess did not expect a refusal – “There’s one thing I would like to…discuss.” – 'announce' was really what Nunnally wanted to say, but ‘discuss’ sounded better in her mind – “I was thinking to redecorate my chambers. To turn it more into the style I am used to. To remind me of Sabrenque.” – she smiled; she missed Sabrenque, but could he tell that? – “I hope you’ll not mind?” “I’ve already made plans. Would you like to see them?”

The first time that Elwin, along with Rodney and Byron, had accompanied his father to Sanbreque, he had been twelve, thirteen summers old. It was an experience he would never forget. Stepping into the imperial palace was like stepping into a strange, overwhelmingly decadent painting -- similar to paintings he had come across in books, but had never thought were real places. While he'd masked his uncertainty and anxieties well from his father and everyone else, he couldn't deny to himself just how out of place he had felt, as though he were naught but a commoner, mistakenly traversing these hallowed halls under the scrutinizing eyes of the holiest of men.

To say that the prince fretted over Nunnally -- if only within his own mind -- would be an understatement. If he always felt out of place in Oriflamme, he could only imagine how much worse it must be for her. Rosalith and Oriflamme could not be more different, nor could Rosaria and Sanbreque as a whole. The Grand Duchy was... far simpler. Lush green meadows and sprawling hills were home to modest little towns and villages, and even hubs of commerce like Port Isolde had a certain rustic look and feel to them. The royal princess was akin to a flower; she had been thriving within the soil of her home, only to be uprooted and replanted in a land with far different soil than what she had grown in, and in a clime unlike that which had nurtured her 'til now.

What if she did not bloom again while here? Or worse, what if she wilted instead? The possibility always twisted his stomach into an uneasy and rather heavy knot.

While the nobles seemed to be content enough with keeping their condescension with Lady Nunnally's presence behind closed doors, the servants and Bearers seemed quite intimidated by her and her ladies-in-waiting. Even their people seemed intimidated by their future Archduchess; not because of anything that she was doing, but because they knew not how to act around her, and thus did there hang an uneasy pall over them while they struggled not to give offense to the Sanbrequois royal. Of course, it was Elwin's hope that as time went on, that uncertainty would subside, and they would all embrace the young woman -- and grow as fond of her as he had.

But only time would tell.

From the corner of his eye, the prince noticed the movement of another across the gallery. He turned towards her, and upon recognizing that it was Her Royal Highness, his expression lit up. Lips curled into a gentle smile. His arm was given to her freely, and after a softly murmured greeting of "my lady", he nodded his agreement. Not that he would have refused, regardless -- but her company was always welcome.

His betrothed's confession didn't come as a surprise; still, his eyebrows raised, and there was no attempt to hide his curiosity. While they walked, him following Nunnally's lead as his arm remained crooked for hers to interlock with, Elwin kept his attention focused upon her -- her words, her expressions. The sincerity of her yearning for home, and her desire to bring some level of familiarity here for her... No, there were no objections from him over this either.

If his smile hadn't already been of a warmer, gentler nature, it certainly would have softened all the more for her. "Of course, my dear lady -- I think it a wonderful idea," came the reassurance, followed shortly thereafter with, "This is your home, after all, and your chambers are a sanctuary for you to mold as you see fit."

Then Elwin paused. He glanced away briefly, his own expression shifting ever so slightly to a more shy one. To be allowed to see her plans for redecorating her private quarters, it felt to be an honor to have something so personal shared with him. "I would love to see them, if you will share them with me."

@lured-into-wonderland

[eldritchsurveys]

1215.

Thoughts on Pokemon Go? >> I think it’s a neat concept. I don't play it, personally, because I'm not into the gameplay aspect of Pokémon (I just think the creatures are fun).

What podcasts do you listen to, if any? >> I don't, it's not a form of media I feel like I have any time in my life to devote to (considering all the other media I interact with already). The only podcast I ever listened to more than like 3 episodes of is Welcome to Night Vale, back when that was new and popular. I would still listen to it but I'm just so far behind in it by now that I can't be bothered. But who knows what the future holds. I do keep up with another podcast through its transcripts (I've actually never listened to it, only read it; I might go back and listen to at least a few episodes eventually now that I'm already invested, but we'll see) -- The Silt Verses.

Which period of history was your favorite to learn about in school? >> I didn't enjoy history in school at all. Which makes sense, since in most USAmerican public schools, "history class" is more like "memorise a bunch of dates and historical figures, most of which are related to all the wars the US has started or escalated, whilst we fill your heads with a bunch of patriotic atrocity-whitewashing nonsense class".

If you’re a tea drinker, what’s your tea of choice? If not, what’s your favorite beverage in general? >> Lapsang souchong is my top favourite, but that's hard to get a hold of so mostly I drink my other faves -- various herbals and such.

What was your most recent binge watch? >> I don't binge-watch things. The most episodes of something I'll watch in a day is 4, and that's for shows that run 20-30 minutes per episode, like anime.

What’s the oldest thing currently in your house? >> I have no idea.

What’s something silly you believed as a child? >> Nothing comes to mind.

What’s the last thing you cooked or heated up? >> The last thing I heated up was a sandwich in the toaster oven. The last thing I cooked was rice cooker fried rice.

Are you excited at all for the upcoming Olympics? .

Last video game you played? >> FFXIV.

Which of your parents’ birthdays did you last celebrate? What did you do? .

If you use Snapchat, do you post to your story or send individual snaps more often? .

Have you ever used a power tool? Which one? .

Is your favorite color the same as when you were a kid? >> I don't think I had one when I was a child.

Can you see a picture frame from where you are? What’s in that frame? >> The picture frame on the shelf across the room from me has a Dark Tower art print in it. The one next to it has a stylised drawing of New Orleans.

What is your go-to summer outfit? >> Cutoff shorts and a t-shirt is the easiest thing right now. I really need more clothes. The cutoff shorts technically don't even fit, they're too tight.

If you have Facebook, what is one of the topic trending right now? If you don’t, what is the most recent news you heard? >> I use the Facebook Purity extension, so I don't see any of that other shit. My feed is strictly people and pages I follow. I also haven't heard any recent news from any other source. Who was the last person you know to graduate? .

Think of the farthest place you’ve traveled to. Do you have any souvenirs from there? >> The farthest I’ve travelled is from NY to Colorado (and back). I don’t have any souvenirs from either place.

Does your town put on any fireworks displays for the 4th of July and/or other holidays? >> There is a formal display that the city itself puts on (it's Saturday the 6th, this year), but fireworks are legal for regular people to purchase too, unfortunately, so basically I've been hearing fireworks for the past week and will continue to hear them until midmonth.

Do you know the number of the fire truck/engine closest to your house? >> I do not.

Have you ever met anyone the EXACT same age as you (some birthdate and year)? >> I don't think so.

When was the last time you or someone else said/used your middle name for something? >> Whenever I go to a food place where you give your name so they can call for you when your order is ready, I use my middle name. It's easier to parse than my first name, which saves everyone time and saves me an annoyance.

Do you own anything covered in glitter? >> I do not.

When was the last time you rolled your eyes? At what? >> I did watch some Riverdale earlier so I probably comically rolled my eyes at something on there, lol. Oh you know what, it was probably when Veronica said "mobsplain". Dialogue in this show really cracks me up sometimes.

Have you ever helped plan a wedding? >> Mine, yeah. Do you get overwhelmed easily? >> You have no idea.

Do you like mozzarella sticks? >> Eh. I get the appeal when they're piping hot but as soon as they cool down even an iota they turn into like... fried glue.

What was the last blue thing you touched? >> There's a body pillow next to me that's blue, and I'm sure I've touched that at some point today.

What was the last email you sent about? .

If you had to name one of your children after a friend, solely based on their name alone, who would you choose? .

Do you like caramel? >> I do, but I'm really picky about it. I don't like the caramel you'd find in most common candies. It's like a cheap imitation of the actual thing.

[wnine]

monday redemption

[kaicean]

I normally just draw and not make long text posts but I have bundled up Natsu/Lucy feelings I want to word vomit ever since I picked up the Fairy Tail game out of curiosity (PLS & THIS & ?!?!) and most of all watched the Dragon Cry movie for the very first time a few months ago (July ironically). This movie dragged me back by the neck to this ship I loved several years ago.

Now I own a copy of the movie’s storyboard manga drawn by Mashima himself and the pamphlet. I flip through the pages of these two more times than I can count like-

真島自らが描いた、ナツの回想の中ルーシィ Natsu’s recollection of Lucy, drawn by Mashima himself

I’ve read several essays + interview (i, ii, iii, iv, v, vi, vii to name a few) revolving around the famous nalu scenes in the movie, but I don’t think I ever came across anyone talking about what I think is the ultimate song that perfectly captures them in their entirety—Dragon Cry’s ending theme What You Are by Polka Dots.

There are only two translations I found, one of them being from the wiki but it’s a little off. This one is more accurate. My translation version is a mix of it plus usage of DeepL so it may not be entirely accurate but it’s close enough.

I absolutely see this song as Lucy -> Natsu due to obvious phrases within the lyrics and it fits my headcanon of Natsu being metaphorically Lucy’s brightest star. His name means summer which has ties to the sun, aka the brightest star. The sun is known to be the brightest star because it’s the closest to us, just like the person closest to Lucy is Natsu.

You're still you, no matter what Softly illuminating the darkness You're a star

Self explanatory, first line starts off with Lucy’s answer to Natsu’s “What do I look like?” question. This was first shown to us in the beginning of the movie so let’s keep that in mind.

Where is tomorrow? The past cannot be erased In a pitch-dark world I found a warm, enveloping light "It's gonna be okay" the voice said That voice echoed in my heart I want to believe in you, whatever you are Whatever the road I take, I want to be by your side I want to keep walking Wish on a star Let's find it, let's find it The only light

This can be easily depicted by my favorite scene in Snow Fairy opening, where Lucy’s world was rainy and bleak until a literal light shines through when she looks at Fairy Tail, particularly Mirajane and main team:

She ran away from home, stripped herself from Lucy Heartfilia to just Lucy, and began her own journey. Her world was small and lonely due to her strict upbringing but it was thanks to Natsu, who led her to Fairy Tail, that her world brightened and expanded since that day. Hard as she tried, she couldn’t hide her Heartfilia name for long which led us to the Phantom Lord arc. Here was where Natsu firmly assured her twice that she could stay in the guild and that it is her home that she can come back to, because she’s Lucy of Fairy Tail. These feelings were further cemented towards the end of the arc by Makarov. From then, she stopped running away and faced her past/father head-on, before returning home to the guild.

The cherry blossom colored dusk reflects in your eyes I'm not sad, yet the tears spilled Someone once said that the most beautiful things are fleeting No matter what today is, it has meaning I’ll always be by your side I'll hold your hand tight Let's tell each other The feelings hidden in our hearts You're a star You're a star

This part screams post-Tenrou Island and GMG arc+. One of my top favorite chapters is chapter 257 which happened after the 7-year timeskip. Natsu, Lucy and Happy traveled to visit Lucy’s father only to find out he had passed away just one month prior. Natsu offered her words of comfort and space but it’s this chapter where the lost of time was incredibly overwhelming for Lucy. I truly believe it was after this day (her BIRTHDAY no less wtf Mashima, satanic much???) that “time” was seen more precious and that every day has a meaning. Lucy’s first step of moving forward was tagging along with Natsu and Happy on a job, and her monologue just hits.

The concept of each moment being precious solidified during the GMG arc. Future Lucy lost her life to save her past self before wishing she could go on more adventures. Present Lucy proclaimed she had to laugh, cry, and live enough for both her and her future self. In Future Lucy’s version of heaven, it was Natsu who first called out to her and pulled her hand to say “Let’s continue on our adventure” before they ceased to exist.

And in the current timeline, present Lucy felt what Future Lucy felt in her heart. She then thanked Natsu, for saving her and their future.

You ask, "What am I?" I'll answer, "You're you” That assurance is all we need from each other Let’s make a wish upon the shining stars You're still you, no matter what The one who gently shines in the darkness That's right, my own Superstar A Superstar that lights up this road that goes on and on You're a star

At the end of the song, we circled back to the beginning, just like we did in the movie where Natsu asked Lucy for the second time what he looked like and she assured him yet again that Natsu looked like Natsu, obviously. And this was enough.

Natsu was the one who saved her (unintentionally) back in Hargeon thus leading her to Fairy Tail and stuck with her ever since. He became the person who she was closest to and vice versa. It was thanks to him that she got to experience so many things and came out stronger from it. Without meeting him and Happy, she wouldn’t be the person she was today. No matter what happens, as Natsu told her at the end of the main series, it doesn’t matter because they will always be together, to continue on more adventures!

I love when songs line up perfectly with the theme and this takes the cake. Thanks for coming to my TED talk as I continue to listen to this song on repeat and cry. I can’t wait until I can draw all of this out in the future, something similar to my comic here.

Also if there is an analysis of nalu + dragon cry’s ending theme out there, pls throw it my way thanks I will literally die on this hill.

[ggukkiereads]

Hello!! Just a few days ago I stumble upon your blog and I'm wondering if you have some recommendations for Hybrid AUs, much appreciated if it is an OT7 and completed, but if so I will still be so thankful. (I just need some cure from the stress that modules brings) Thank You in Advance (◍•ᴗ•◍)❤

🌷 Hello! welcome to my mini fic-reading land. I’ve actually received asks for Hybrid AUs (I pinned the requests in the navi) but I just have a very messy draft.

But to help you with your stress, I think I can share a few of my ongoing reads (sorry they won’t be complete but they’re OT7). But, I added completed ones I could remember too (●'◡'●)

*note: will edit this later and organize this per member - maybe add other fics I’ll remember*

Fic Recs | BTS Hybrid AUs

→ A Place Called Home @agustdakasuga -  OT7 x Reader

series [27/27] | 88k | Hybrid AU, Poly AU, Soulmate AU, Romance Humor | Fluff

Having saved your own injured hybrid, you were determined to try and help any other hybrid that crossed your path who needed saving. But being a vet in a small hospital wasn’t enough for you. You wanted to do more, you wanted to make a difference. You wanted to give them a home.

→  If I Can Never Give You Peace @candlewaxandp0lar0ids - Jungkook x Reader

series [3/?] | 17.6k+ | Mafia AU, Enemies to Lovers | A (so far)

It starts like quite a few stories do, in your world. Girl meets boy, who happens to be a hybrid, girl buys him at an auction where hybrids are sold, boy falls in love with her, girl gets bored of him. Then it’s not so typical anymore, when the boy ends up forced into illegal fighting rings, until he makes a wrong move and her father decides he needs to be killed.

Where does that leave you? Well, you’re the one who handled Jungkook’s fight and generally organized his life, and, when the girl’s father, your boss and mafia leader, tells you he wants him ‘put down’, you’re the one who has to get it done. Except, instead, you let him escape, and everything turns out fine.

🌷ggukkienote: I am so hooked on this (because I am a sucker for Mafia AUs too). This is such a great story and the OC is really different from the usual OCs. Very interesting.

→  Eunoia @wishesunderthestars -  OT7 x Reader

series [15/?] | 100k+ (I just assumed this, masterpost doesn’t have wc but it’s 6k per chapter or more?) | Director!Reader, hurt/comfort | fluff, eventual smut

You are a world famous director and you have dedicated your life to your job. You have everything you could ever dream of; wealth, recognision, talent, your friends and family. But loneliness ins’t cured by success. So what happens when you somehow rescue seven hybrids? Can they fill the void?

→  Restitution @cloudteawrites - OT7 x Reader

series [7/?] | 48k+ | slow burn, poly, mystery, romance

when an estranged uncle leaves you his massive fortune you wonder if the universe is playing a joke on you. when that fortune comes with seven hybrids, you know for sure that it is.

→ Lacuna @barbika1508 - Jungkook x Reader

series [42/42] | 324.3k | Hybrid AU, check for TW | Fluff, Angst, Smut

Lacuna - (n.) a blank space, a missing part

Y/N just wanted to go back home, to enjoy her peace and quiet away from problems and people. But typically, her luck strikes as she stumbles upon a horrific scene of two guys mistreating an already beaten down hybrid. Will she take matters into her own hands and help him? Or let someone else help along the way???

🌷 This is on AO3 and I got a recent ask about author’s tumblr.  So if you prefer AO3 you can check their profile

→ A Hundred Percent Human by wrienne- OT7 x Reader

series [12/?] | 88k+ | Hybrid AU, fluff, angst, smut |

In which you (reader) are forced to take care of seven hybrids in a twist of fate. Drunk and down on life, you finally decide to deal with the house and the unsavory business your mother left behind. However, to your shock, you find that seven very different hybrids are included with both the house - and the business. Seven hybrids you never even met before - even less agreed to take care of.

🌷 This is on AO3. I don’t normally reco AO3 since my blog is focused on tumblr fics but someone sent an ask about this so I’m including it

→ Inferiority Complex @starlightauroras-writes - Jimin x Reader

series [10/?] | 88k+ | political themes, themes of abuse (hybrids) | A, S

You had never liked hybrids. You disagreed with their very existence, and you never wanted to have anything to do with them. And then one day, you discovered a hybrid who was more scared of you than you were of him, and everything changed as you realised you were the only hope he had…

→ Sanctuary @chimchimsauce - Jimin x Reader

series [16/16] | 20k |  Wolf Hybrid!Jimin, Barista!OC, feat sanctuary staff Taehyung, hurt/comfort | F, A

YN is a young girl, bright and ambitious, but due to her busy schedule, she's been unable to make any real friends. When an ad for Saint Mary's Sanctuary catches her attention, she never expected her life to be changed by a certain hybrid named Jimin.

→  Summer Nights @marginalmadness - Jungkook x Reader

series [4/4] | 23k | Hybrid!Fantasy, Romance | F, S

A freak weather anomaly leads to a chance encounter with a rabbit-hybrid, and your kind nature results in you gaining a small, fluffy lodger, who questions your taste in television shows. It’s won’t be for long...will it?

→  Risk it All @/httpjeon - Jungkook x Reader

series [5/5] | 8.3k  | hybrid au, alpha wolf!jungkook | A, F, S

ripped from your family, you find yourself in a warehouse filled with predators. just your luck, you’re right across from a caged alpha wolf.

🌷 (I linked Chapter 5 because for some reason others couldn’t find this chapter so they thought it’s still incomplete)

→  Outro Love is Not Over @kiirokero - Hoseok x Reader

series [12/?] |  Daycare Teacher!Hoseok x Single Mom!Reader

You are the single mother of a beautiful 6-year-old golden retriever hybrid who you named Yunho.  But you’re a human.  You can’t show him the ropes of being a hybrid, and you can’t teach him things the other moms can.  So, when a handsome German Shepard hybrid comes into your life, helping you and guiding Yunho in a way you can’t, you can’t help the cozy home he sets up in your heart.

→  It Takes Two To Make A Thing Go Right @imaginethisbts - TaeKook x Reader

two shot [2/2] | 11k | dom/sub themes, heat cycles | S

What’s better than one dogboy lover? Two dogboy lovers. But when Tae and Jungkook seem unusually clingy, it can only mean one thing. That time of the month has snuck up on you and your dogboy lovers do not want to share.

🌷 Also try their other Jungkook hybrid series Out of the Blue

→  Peculiar Park @daydreamindollie -  OT7 x Reader

series [9/?] | 38k+ | imagines, slice of life | Writer!Reader, Psychologist!Reader, imagines | fluff

you’re a successful hybrid writer and psychologist who takes in seven hybrids on one stormy night after finding one of their pack stealing from your garden

→ Yeouiju @nomseok - Namjoon x Reader

one shot | 33.7k | Mythical AU, Hybrid AU (if you squint), suspense | A, F, S

you find an ancient stone in the middle of the mountains and bring it home with you, oblivious to the consequences of taking a dragon’s yeouiju.

→ Beautiful Stranger @/nomseok - Taehyung x Reader

one shot | 19k | circus AU | A, S, F

your dream is to take care of animals for the rest of your life in the big city, making sure that they’re cared for. but you stumble upon a malnourished, rare tiger in your local circus, and you can’t help but want to take care of him.

→ Evolution of You and I @readyplayerhobi - Jimin x Reader

one shot | 10.2k | kind of epistolary (letters), chat, childhood friends | F

For 15 years, Park Jimin has been in your life in some form. From childhood penpal’s to the closest of friends now, you can’t imagine your life without him even if you’ve never actually met him in person. It doesn’t help that you’ve fallen for him, even across the distance that separates you. But what happens when you finally meet up and you discover he’s been keeping something secret?

→  Fish are Friends @httpjeon - Taehyung x Reader

one shot | 10.2k | seahorse hybrid!taehyung | A, S, F

after moving to the seaside, there is a dreadful storm. when all is clear, a man washes up on shore…only he isn’t quite human.

🌷 you know seahorses mate for life and it’s the male that gets pregnant? Interesting huh

→  Pink Panther @gimmesumsuga - Seokjin x Reader

one shot | 13k | boss-employee | F, S

The one where your boss, Kim Seokjin, tries to show you how beautiful you are.

→  Ragdoll @ausblack - Jimin x Reader

series [17/17] | Hybrid AU, College AU | F, A

As you were studying to obtain your medical & veterinary degree, your professor came up with the idea of organizing an internship - where you found yourself side by side with a sick hybrid that needed nothing other that complete care.

→  Jagged + Catnap  @opaljm - Jimin x Reader

one shot + sequel | 18k |  jaguar/black panther!jimin, sand dune cat!reader, mutual pining, friends to lovers, established relationship (sequel)| S, F, slight A

The pretty little sand cat hybrid Jimin has been in love with for the past year experiences her first heat and Jimin would love nothing more than to be the one to guide her through it and breed her with his kittens.

🌷 there’s also a possible spin-off for Taehyung (Eye of the Tiger)

→  Owner @jessikahathaway - Jungkook x Reader

series [6/?] | 17.4k | Fake Dating AU, Hybrid AU, based on Kimi Wa Petto (Japanese anime) | F, S, A

With your mother hounding on you (no pun intended), you decided to get a little help from a hybrid, who was also in need of assistance.

→ Loving Him Was Red + Somewhere Only We Know @userseok - Jungkook x Reader

series [3/?] | 12.8k+ | enemies to lovers, childhood friends (sorta), college au, jock!jungkook, unrequited love (for OC) | S, F, A

you’ve been chasing after jungkook for years. after a harsh verbal altercation between both of you, you decide to leave him alone and pursue a relationship with someone who seems genuinely interested in you, thinking he would never return your feelings.

I would like to recommend the catalog of these writers:

@ditttiii - so I realize I’m following them on AO3 when I realized the fics looked familiar 🤭. They have an ongoing series called Enchanted to Meet You which you might want to check out if you like Soulmate AUs too! I recently reblogged a Jungkook two-shot comfort fic (hybrid au too) so I recommend going through their masterlist!

@aroseforyoongi - who I discovered because of Gossamer (KTH). It was completed but I think it’s up for re-write/re-post? You can try the others:

Navy Blue - Jungkook [completed]

Forever Yours - Yoongi [one shot, prequel to Navy Blue]

Let Me Love You- Jungkook [one shot]

@magicalsalamander - another favorite author of mine I just feel like I’m reading a great tale every time I start on a series or one shot. They have great fics with supernatural themes too

Rabbit on the Moon - Jungkook | if you’re in the mood for police officer Jungkook [6/6]

The Act of Persuasion - Seokjin | if you are in the mood for Single Dad AU x Arranged Marriage too [one shot]

Firefly that Guards the Fox - Taehyung | if you are in the mood for mystery [11/12 - just epilogue left]

Kitten’s Little Flame - Yoongi | if you like BF to Lovers between dragon and a cat [6/6]

There’s more so please check their Masterlist

@hollyhomburg - I just love Of Fire and Love (hello dragon!yoongi and baby!jungkook? 🥺) But you can check:

their masterlist of all their hybrid fics

Dance to This series which I’ve added to fic recs based on an ask about stories that include members/readers with disability.

Don’t care if it Hurts - Jimin | this is probably my favorite (again I’m a sucker for Mafia AUs) , guard dog hybrid!jimin [12/13, just epilogue]

@angelicyoongie - I got hooked after reading their stories on AO3 but they have tumblr too! Check their masterlist for ongoing hybrid fic (Abundance - OT7)  but these are completed ones:

Desolate - Yoongi, grumypy cat hybrid [14/14]

Out of the Woods - Namjoon, wolf hybrid, strangers to lovers [3/3]

@worldwidebt7 - if you like webtoons! I read parts of Jungkook’s webtoon and I think currently we’re on Yoongi’s story. Access it here

@jincherie - One of the first hybrid fics I remember encountering is Inheritance (MYG). Other fics:

Perihelion - Hoseok, college, roommate, enemies [2/?]

Butterfingers - Namjoon, teacher au, this is cuuuute READ IT if you’re looking for something fluffy [one shot]

4 o’ clock - Taehyung, single dad au (I included this in the singel dad fic recs too) [3/?]

Under the Bridge - Jungkook, found jungkook under the bridge [one shot]

@whitesparrows97 - a writer I discovered because of a Yoongi soulmate fic but I found that they also have other hybrid fics:

Cat’s Cradle - Yoongi, bestfriend [5/5]

Underdog - Taehyung, shifter, brought home what she thought a stray dog [5/5]

@foxymoxynoona - and what would my reco be without foxymoxy? So they have tumblr but their works are on AO3. I’ve listed their current works here but I didn’t include their completed works which are must-reads:

Sugar Fairy - Jungkook, mating, adopted hybrids [48/48]

A Sea of Indigo - Jungkook, ex-fighter [48/48] ⭐⭐⭐

@therealmintedmango - They have a whole masterlist of their hybrid!au fics. I recently finished Kingdom Come and I always remember Jimin from King (for some reason)

@joonbird - check their Zodiac Hybrid Masterlist of one shot per member

There are more (usually one shot per member) but I’ll probably put them in another Fic Rec List for Hybrid AUs. Sorry this list is kind of all over the place (not even organized per member 🤭). But good luck with your modules and I hope these help!

(❁´◡`❁)

[malfoysstilinski]

hogwarts express | DRACO MALFOY (smut)

Draco Malfoy x Reader (past harry x reader) 

SUMMARY: Draco fucks Y/N to prove a point to Harry who he knows is hiding in the storage compartment above, watching the whole thing. 

REQUESTED: first of all, i absolutely love your writing!!! ok so you know how on the train in sixth year harry was spying on draco in the compartment? what if draco and y/n have sex in front of him while he’s still under the cloak and draco is like “put on a show.” 👀 i’ve been thinking about this nonstop for days @sapphicnoodle69 

WARNINGS: dirty talk, public sex, choking, oral (both receiving), slut shaming, probably more idk 

MASTERLIST

“Hogwarts,” Draco scoffs, a sneering look on his face as he fiddles absentmindedly with his fingers on the table in front of you, “what a pathetic excuse for a school. I think I’d pitch myself off the Astronomy Tower if I thought I had to continue for another two years.”

You frown from where you’re leaning your head on his shoulder, your senses consumed by Draco. All you can smell is his expensive cologne and the peppermint of his shampoo, the smooth material of his suit’s blazer brushing your cheek as you stare across at Pansy and Blaise. They look equally as confused as you do. Draco hadn’t been the same since his father had been sent to Azkaban, all thanks to Harry Potter, Draco had said. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Pansy questions. 

“Let’s just say, I don’t think you’ll see me wasting my time with Charms class next year,” Draco mutters bitterly. 

Blaise snickers lightly and Draco’s eyes snap to him in an instant-- venomous and daring. It’s the kind of cold look that anybody would dread getting from a Malfoy. 

“Amused, Blaise?” Draco sneers, “We’ll see just who’s laughing in the end.”

You miss the tiny metallic clanging noise from above your heads, and so do Blaise and Pansy from where they’d sending you questioning looks, as if you should know why your boyfriend’s suddenly acting like the four of you haven’t spent the past six years exchanging all your secrets and hanging out at any free moment you may have. 

Draco knows who’s there. Your ex-boyfriend. His enemy. Harry Potter. He pisses Draco off even more with the way he always stares at you. It gives Draco an idea. 

Draco’s gaze flickers down from the storage racks above your heads and back down at you when you finally lift your head from his shoulder. You reach for his hands that are on the table and pull them underneath innocently. You give his hand a squeeze and keep your fingers intertwined on his lap, watching as his shoulders relaxed slightly beside you. 

The rest of the train journey is less tense. Draco doesn’t suggest anything else as solemnly as he had been, and you all talk about your summers. Well, you, Blaise, and Pansy do-- everybody knows Draco definitely did not spend his summer eating the finest food in France like he usually did. 

As you’re listening to Blaise talk about his mother’s latest fiancé, you feel Draco’s hand snake from your hand and drift to your leg. It’s bare beneath your school skirt, the British September weather not yet cold enough for a pair of tights. You know he’s glad that you decided to get changed early. You shiver at his icy fingertips on your thigh, pursing your lips together when he gives it a rather rough squeeze. 

He glides his hand up and down, leaving goosebumps in his wake as he tries to remain as casual as possible, keeping a hard look on his face whilst he stares at Blaise. You’re also trying to appear neutral, cursing your boyfriend for having such a thing for getting off in public. One day you were going to get caught, and that was the day you would also be disowned by your family. 

He keeps you in suspense for the last hour of the train journey. At that point, the dark green panties that you’re wearing are absolutely soaked, sticking to your pussy and even dampening the top of your thighs. His hand hadn’t left your leg once, trailing close to where you desired him the most, where your clit throbbed and pulsated, and then back down closer to your knee to give you a breather. 

Draco Malfoy was a fucking tease and he would be the death of you-- that was for sure. 

Finally, when the train pulled up at the station, everybody starting to climb off of the compartment, but Draco remained sat where he was, also blocking you in from your window seat. As Blaise and Pansy grab their bags and start to head off, they look back at you both in confusion, wondering why you’re not leaving. 

“You two go on,” Draco mutters, running his hand across his jaw. “Y/N and I have something we need to discuss.”

Pansy gives you a sly smirk and a wink before she grabs Blaise’s arm and practically drags him out of the compartment. Your heart is pounding as you watch Draco slide out of his seat once your friends have left the two of you by yourselves, watching as he moves closer to the carriage door, sliding it shut. He pulls the blinds down next. 

“This might be the last time we get the chance to do this,” Draco smirks as he glances back at you. “Stand.”

You do as he says, watching as he grabs his wand out of his pocket and swishes it, all of the other blinds coming down to conceal you from the outside. Your clit is pulsating so hard and you nearly groan out loud as he starts to march closer to you, rubbing your thighs together for some relief. 

Draco’s hand snaps out to grab your neck, fingers gliding down your soft skin before he digs his fingers in slightly, shallowing your breathing. You whimper as his other thumb drags itself down your lip. 

“I know you’ve been desperate for this,” Draco mutters, releasing your neck and undoing his tie, flinging it down onto the table beside you both. “And you’ve been a good girl for me. Parkinson and Zabini didn’t suspect a thing, did they?”

“No,” you breathe in agreement, “they didn’t.”

“I think my good little slut deserves a reward for being so patient,” Draco mutters, tilting your head with his hand on your jaw, leaning down to press wet kisses to your neck, sucking hard below your ear and leaving a hickey behind as you grip his arms, eyes rolling into the back of your head. 

“Draco...” You pull away from him slightly, finding his silver eyes darker than usual as he stares down at you. “Right here? What if someone comes looking-”

“Colloportus,” he mutters, locking the doors with his wand. “There. We’ll hear if someone tries coming in.”

“And if somebody hears us?”

“Muffliato.” 

That’s enough for you. Especially when Draco’s looking as handsome as he does and when he has that grip on your waist. You know you’re in for a good quickie when he grabs you and whirls you around, forcing you down so that you’re bent over the table that they had just been sat at. 

His hand drifts between your legs where your school skirt has ridden up, exposing your soaked panties. He tuts as he kicks your legs apart with his foot, gliding his lanky fingers up your leg and towards your ass where he lands a harsh smack. You whimper, your hand clasping over your mouth. 

Draco reaches down and dives his hand between your legs, cupping your sex. He pushes your panties to the side and immediately comes into contact with your slick arousal. It coats his fingers and makes him smirk as he glides it between your folds and towards your clit where he rubs circles. When he notices how you’re muffling your moans with your hand, he lands a sharp slap to your clit that makes you jerk unexpectedly against him. 

“If I see you trying to keep quiet one more time then I won’t touch you,” Draco swore, returning to rubbing your clit when you peeled your hand away from your lips. “Good girl. I want to hear those pretty sounds you make.” 

You moan at a mixture of his words and the sensation rippling through your body, your arms stretching out in front of you and trying to grab hold of anything, but there was nothing for you to hold so you simply clawed at the table as Draco drops down onto his knees. 

He whirls you around so that you’re facing him, his face level with your pussy as he yanks your skirt up. He glides your panties down your legs and then thrusts one finger inside your hole, making your breath hitch. You throw your head back, you hands clinging to his bleach blond hair. As another finger slides in, both pumping in and out at a dangerously slow pace, Draco leans his head dow and starts to lick at your clit, looking up at you whilst he did it. 

You moan, bucking your hips. “Draco, please. Please, please. Fuck. Fuck!”

That’s right, Potter. He thinks. This is the closest you’ll ever get to seeing her like this. And it’s all because of me. 

Draco hums against you and wraps his mouth around your entire clit, sucking hard and licking at the same time. It throbs and feels like it’s going to explode, porn-worthy whimpers leaving you as you throw your legs up onto his shoulders, sitting further along the table as he laps up your juices eagerly. 

A third finger slides in and you groan at the stretching sensation as he fucks his fingers into you harder. Your hands move up to palm at your breasts, until Draco grabs your wrist. You huff at the loss of contact. He stands, licking his lip as he pulls his fingers out of you and holds them towards your lips. 

“Suck,” Draco demands and knowing Potter is watching, envying him and wishing that he was the one that had you at his will, makes him smirk harder. 

You respond eagerly, leaning forwards and taking his fingers into your mouth. You look up at him, eyes all wide and innocent that have Draco even harder in his trousers. He swears to Merlin that you’ll be the death of him as your tongue swirls around his digits, licking yourself off of him and cleaning him up. 

“Good fucking slut,” he grows. “Now on your knees. Where you belong.”

You respond quickly, dropping down like he had commanded you to. Without hesitation, you reach for the button and zipper of his trousers, undoing them both. You reach into his underwear and pull his cock out, wetting your lips at the sight. He’s as hard as ever, precum oozing out of the top as he grabs the base of it, smacking your lips with it. 

You half open your mouth, making a moaning sound as he smears it across your lips, leaving his precum behind. Your tongue darts out and you lick it up as he smacks your cheek with it. Your mouth opens wider, sticking your tongue out. Draco thrusts his hips slowly closer, his cock resting in your mouth as you take over, grabbing his shaft and jerking off anything that you couldn’t fit into your mouth. 

You suck in your cheeks as you bob on his dick, pulling off all of the way to then lick at his tip. Draco’s hand grips your hair like it’s a lifeline, small curses leaving his lips as you take him all the way back in. His tip hits the back of your throat, making your eyes water, but you keep him there for a few second, hearing his breathing grow short at the feeling until you pull him off of you, his cock now covered in your saliva. 

“Fuck, you’re so good,” Draco mutters, his fingers going beneath your chin and moving with you as you stand up. “And you’re all mine. Nobody else can have you.”

“Mhm,” you moan in agreement as he lays you across the table that you had been at before. “Don’t want anyone else.”

“Not even Potter?” He refers to the boy you’d dated briefly back in fourth year-- the same one that hadn’t been able to keep his eyes off of you since, even when you were wrapped under Draco’s arm two years later.  

“No, you,” you agree, “Just you. Only you, Draco.”

Draco places runs his tip up and down your folds before he presses it at your entrance, slowly gliding in. You both groan at the sensation. You’d throw your head back if you weren’t already being fucked on the hard surface of the table. Your hands grip the sides beside you, but it doesn’t stop your body jerking as Draco fucks into you hard. 

He’s being rough, clearly trying to prove a point as he watches your body wither beneath him from where he stands at the end of the table. He pushes your skirt back up when it falls down a little, and this time his thumb moves to your clit. Draco smirks when your back arches and you cry out. 

“Draco!” You nearly sob as he slams into you, your soaking heat making sounds that echo across the compartment. “Draco, Draco. Fuck me just like that.”

Draco groans at your words, rubbing your clit harder and slamming in and out of you like it’s his mission. Your walls clench around his cock and have him tilting his head back, a breathy moan leaving his lips as he doesn’t stop his assault on your nub. Everything feels so good-- you can already feel your orgasm coming, thanks to the foreplay earlier as well. 

“You’re so good for me,” Draco growls, glancing down and spitting on your pussy, even though you were already soaked. He rubs it in as he watches his cock drive in and out of your shaking form. “Such a good, pretty, little slut. But just for me.” 

“Just--” You squeeze your eyes shut when Draco hits a certain spot inside you, making you scream out. “Just for you, Draco.”

“Do you hear that Potter?” Draco booms with a laugh, but you don’t process what he’s said at first. “Do you see her? The way she comes undone for me. How she would let me do anything for her?”

You realise what he’s saying after a few seconds and several more powerful thrusts. Your eyes widen, realising that Harry must be snooping around in the compartment-- that was why Draco had been so tense after the small blackout. 

“Draco--”

Draco leans down and hisses against your ear, “Let’s put on a little show for him, shall we, princess?”

You cum. You scream out and throw your head back, the thought of Harry watching Draco fuck the life out of you guiltily filling you with adrenaline and power and even arousal. You claw at Draco’s blazer-covered back as you call out his name, walls clenching around his cock over and over. 

Finally, seconds later, you feel his hips stutter and one last powerful thrust before his cum begins to fill you, hot and fast. Your eyes flutter at the sensation, breathy whimpers leaving your lips as he pulls out of you and yanks your skirt back down whilst you sit up. 

“Petrificus Totalus!” He grabs his wand and shoots the spell at the storage shelves above you. 

You gasp when you hear a thump. You bend down on your knees and pull up the invisibility cloak that Harry had, revealing the boy himself-- paralysed, of course. Draco grabs you and pulls you back, a smirk on his face. 

“Didn’t your mother ever tell you it was rude to eavesdrop, Potter?” Draco spits, grabbing his bag with the hand that isn’t holding you wrist. “Oh, that’s right, she was dead before you could wipe the drool off your chin.”

Harry’s seemingly-lifeless eyes just stare back up at the two of you and you gasp when Draco drives his foot down onto Harry’s face, an audible cracking noise filling the compartment. Blood immediately dribbles down his face as Draco releases you to grab the cloak back off the ground. 

“That’s for my father. And stop fucking staring at my girlfriend. I think it might be obvious to you who she prefers now.” He throws the cloak back over Harry, making him invisible again. “Enjoy your ride back to London.”

Draco grabs your hand again and his briefcase and leads you away again, fully satisfied that Potter had learnt his lesson.