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arty-shadow-morningstar · 3 years ago

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Con Man's Daughter

Posting this because there isn't enough biodad! John Constantine content.

[Masterlist]

(Part 2)

-----

I feel like this should be a Damianette story or just platonic relationship after Jon got aged-up to seventeen and Damian wanted a friend his age but doesn’t want to admit it.

So basically there is this big bad in Gotham using magic that Batman was fighting at the time and enlisted John Constantine to help out.

John realizes that the villain is using a Miraculous.

“Oh. I think I know how he gets his powers. And lucky for you, Bats, I know an expert on this special brand of magic.”

And he did the smart thing and called up Marinette who at the time was already Guardian and was looking for other lost Miraculouses like in the Treasure Hunter AU I wrote.

He calls her at a really bad time. She was in the process of being chased by the guardians of the place. Monsters and evil spirits.

“Hello, Dad. What do you need and can you do it quickly?”

“Hey, sweetheart, it’s me. How is my little cupcake up to these days?”

“You called at a bad time.” Gunshots.

“WAS THAT A GUN I HEARD? WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU, YOUNG LADY?!”

“Somewhere in Japan. Getting a Miraculous. And why can’t you call me to check in on me and not ask me to help you with whatever mess you got yourself into.” More gunshots sounds and it was telling that Marinette was using a gun.

“Where did you get a gun? And don’t you have school?”

“It’s summer break. Don’t worry Maman and Papa know. Well, the fact that I am in Japan anyways.” Marinette sounded a little out of breath. Roaring and horrifying sounds at the other end. “Can we do this later?”

“As it happens, there is a villain going around Gotham with what I think is a Miraculous.”

Swears on the other end.

“Oi. Watch your fucking language, young lady.”

“How about a No and move the fuck back, old man. I am coming over right now.”

“Old man? I am not that old-” as a magic blue portal opens up in the Bat Cave.

And a red Chinese dragon comes out with someone riding it.

Its rider was a black-haired girl. She had a trench coat similar to Constantine's. I imagine her with a fedora. Like Carmen Sandiego style but not red. Sometimes red but only when she has to steal it from a museum or high security places and she leaves a name card with the name Carmen Sandiego. A sword strapped to her back and a dagger to her thigh.

She had a gun in her hand which she used to shoot the monsters as it was halfway through the portal and yelled out the spell to close it.

“Brilliant entrance but you are in lots of trouble, little lady. What were you thinking about going to another country unsupervised? And isn’t there still a butterfly problem in Paris?”

“One, I wasn’t unsupervised. I had Tikki, a billion years old being and a sort of god. Two.Well, it got boring trying to track Hawk-bitch down. And I found this legend about a guy with a Miraculous who disappeared in the temple and thought hey, more miraculous could mean another edge to defeating Moth-man.”

More bickering and John grounding Marinette who was acting very nonchalant about it.

Okay, at this point, I should say that Batman and Robin are in the background trying to make some sense.

Batman is surprised to find out that Constantine has a daughter who is also involved in magic like her Father but an apparently more specialised kind called the Miraculous. He is a little miffed that he didn’t know about John having a daughter. He did consider it weird at first that she had a slight french accent unlike her father’s Liverpool accent although she pronounced some words like he does.

He also connected some dots that she is also the Parisian heroine, Lady Rouge who Wonder Woman introduced to the League a while back and had declined to join the Young Justice or Teen Titans until everything in Paris was resolved.

Damian on the other hand was suspicious of the new arrival and came to the same conclusion as his father about the daughter thing.

Batman after a few minutes, clears his throat.

The Constantines stop arguing.

“Bonjour. Batman. Robin. Pleasure to meet you. I am Mari Constantine and yes, I am this homeless looking man’s brilliant daughter.” “Hey”

“Well, Mari. Your father thinks you can help us with this new criminal turning Gotham upside down. Literally in some cases. He said that you might be able to help us.” Batman said as he pulled up zoomed in picture of the Miraculous.

Mari looks through the Miraculous grimoire and tells them all about it and power-ups, basically the most effective thing to defeat the guy is to get the Miraculous off them. Plus a spell that would make the Miraculous ineffective if casted within a certain radius of it.

“Thank you for the information, Mari. Constantine, let’s go.”

Mari made to follow them.

“You young lady are grounded and staying here.”

“I don’t need another supervillain using the Miraculous which are my responsibility as Guardian to retrieve them for their own misuse and wreaking havoc on the city. And what if there is an akuma in Paris? I can’t go there if I am grounded in the Batcave although it is a cool place to hang out.”

“You can portal back to Paris but you are not going to follow me. Understood?”

“yes. crystal”

“Good. After me and Batsy get the Miraculous, you can do your Guardian duties.”

Damian snickers. Until Batman cut his mood short, “You are staying behind too. Robin.”

“But Father, why? I am much more capable than Constantine.”

“Hey!” Both father and daughter.

Damian is staying behind too because of the Miraculous power or other reasons and keeps an eye on Mari.

Damian stays behind and there were some protests about mari mad about having a babysitter and Damian doesn’t want to be a babysitter. Despite the two of them being around the same age.

“I got an eye on you so no funny business.”

“Okay, Dad, I am not going to have sex with Robin.” Mari said with a shit- eating grin. Robin definitely didn’t blush.

“I hate you sometimes.”

“I love you too, Dad. Go save the world. Byee.”

John eyes her suspiciously because she is not one to give up that easily usually.

He casts a spell to watch her as they leave. and which she totally knew about.

“So...I have one question.”

“Tt, ask and don’t bother me anymore.”

“Is Batman Bruce Wayne?”

Damian looks up, totally caught off guard.

“I am going to take that as a yes.”

Puts sword at her neck. “How did you find out?!”

“Opened up Google Maps and saw that we are under Wayne Manor. Connected the dots. Also I already knew when Dad made a bet with me once to find out Batman’s secret identity but he never did confirm it for me. And can you please not tell your father about this? I don’t feel like being interrogated by the Bat in the future yet.”

“Father must know about this.”

“I saw you looking at Scarlet here. An animal lover then? You can give her some belly rubs. She deserves it after helping me outrun those monsters.”

His silence was brought. To pet a dragon.

One thing after another and he ends up bringing out his pets-Jerry the turkey, Goliath the dragon-bat, Titus- and her introducing him to her other pets like a hellhound, griffin and other mythical creatures who mostly roam free but come to her when she calls for them and also the kwamis, at least the ones who came with her.

After 30 mins have passed, “So Robin how do you feel about disobeying our fathers?”

“I am in.”

“Depends. Are we going after the (villain's name) ?”

“Yes.”

Awesome montage of them getting rid of the spell John casted and flying out of the Batcave on their respective giant flying pets to the villain’s base.

Meanwhile, their fathers are not doing so well and are trapped in a death trap. John can’t say the spell because the villain made him unable to talk.

“At least, the kids are staying put.”

Cut to Damian and Mari jumping off their pets and onto the roof. Taking out the guards posted there and going into the building all sneakily and also taking out the guards that come their way.

They dropped into the room where their fathers and the villain is.

“Why am I not surprised?”

Villain starts an evil monologue about his mastermind plan to which Damian cuts it short by trying to cut him down with his katana. Mari goes to deactivate the death trap.

They are evenly matched with Damian’s training and the Miraculous.

Mari steps in as Damian was about to be killed. Taps on the shoulder of the villain and when he turns around, gives an awesome right hook that knocks him out.

Takes away the Miraculous and curses him. Wiped the dude’s memories of it.

“When I said stay in the Batcave, I meant stay behind at the Batcave. What point of being grounded, don’t you understand?”

“You mean, Oh, Mari, light of my life, my wonderful daughter, thank you for saving my ass. You are the best.’ by that, right?”

-----

Mari and Damian exchanged numbers and email addresses.

As she was about to leave the Batcave, “It’s been nice meeting you, Mr. Wayne.” and leaves with a wink.

John ‘ungrounds’ her for the look on Batman’s face.

-----

After this, Marinette and Damian become friends who bitch and vent to each other about their alter egos and various villains of their respective cities. (In codes, just in case) They also share updates about their pets and love of drawings.

They have that type of friendship where they trade favors. Mari calls Damian to Paris sometimes to help out with the akuma of the day and Damian sometimes calls her in when Bruce doesn’t let him go investigate a case so he can sneak out by magical means or as back up for when his brothers were too annoying to deal with.

It’s summer break so no missing school.

John and Bruce are aware of their friendship and some of the shenanigans the pair gets into behind their back.

-----

Right. how this all started...

John and Sabine first met when the latter was still in college somewhere in France. John was tracking down a demonic entity which was targeting Sabine for some reason and she was the next target.

John saved her life and exorcised the demon. There was a heat of the moment thing and they had a one-night stand. There were a few more flings and hook-ups after that night.

And nine months later, Marinette Cheryl Cheng-Constantine was born.

When Sabine first found out, she called John to come over and he thought that it was a call for another hook-up and was very surprised to find out that it was not and that he was going to be a father.

They both like each other but do not want to be in a relationship together so they both remained as friends and John agreed after some strong-arming at the very least to meet his daughter before he goes to do his job. And pay for child support. And help Sabine during her pregnancy.

Pregnant Sabine was someone you don’t want to mess with. And John has never met a demon or anyone scarier than her.

He was at first not into meeting his child and there was a self-pity party he threw himself with how the child was going to live a bad life because he was the dad and how he destroyed every good thing in his life.

That’s why he is going to meet the baby once and leave maybe a letter and the occasional birthday present and stay out of their life. Forever.

The day Marinette was born and it took one look into her eyes for the HellBlazer to fall under the spell and all of his plans to stay out of her life to burn away.

At first, he tried. He really tried but he couldn’t do it.

Lasted 4 months before he came back, wanting to place protection spells on her and sigils around the house to keep away the forces of Heaven and Hell and other entities so they won’t use her against him as a bargaining chip.

Sabine calls him to babysit. He could have refused and Sabine would have easily found a babysitter. He moans and whines about how he is a great mage and not a bloody babysitter. Sabine retorts that it is actually called parenting since he is Marinette’s father. He grumbles but in the end, agrees.

The great John Constantine is wrapped around the little girl’s finger.

He was around for some of Marinette’s firsts. Her first word was “John”.

It made him cry. He wasn’t a good man and he doesn’t deserve someone this precious. His daughter doesn’t deserve someone like him as a father but fate made it that way and what can you do about it.

After an exhausting week of doing the usual and coming back from Hell, he saw that Sabine had sent him a video. It was Marinette taking her first steps.

Chas swears that in all the years that he has known John Constantine he has never seen the man look so happy.

------

When Tom came into the picture, John was there to take care of a toddler Marinette while Tom and Sabine went on dates.

Insert John threatening a much bigger Tom while holding a baby Marinette with wide eyes and hugging a teddy bear with the same coat as John’s. (It was something Sabine brought on a whim and to tease John when he came around.)

Tom is supportive and treats Marinette like his own flesh and blood.

John resolved to leave for good now that Tom would be there to be a father figure for Marinette.

That plan fell into the drain the moment he was going to leave for what was supposed to be the last time before Sabine pulled him back and knocked some sense into him.

His face was a big giveaway. Sabine knows that despite his claims of being a terrible father for Marinette, he was a good one and damnit she was going to make sure that Marinette would get to know her actual father.

Tom later made an awkward talk with John about how he was not going to replace John’s role as Marinette’s father.

Marinette was the flower girl at Tom and Sabine’s wedding. John was there too.

During bedtime, John would read her stories and use his magic to make it come to life. Although he would feel a little drained afterwards, it was worth it to see her smile.

Sometimes he told stories about his tamer adventures. (After cutting out some of the inappropriate bits)

------

When Marinette was about 5 or 6, Sabine was out on an errand and Tom was at home with Mari and helping her with her homework. There was a crash downstairs at the bakery. Tom went down to check it out to find John lying on the ground.

With a weak cough, he said, “Close the door. Close it.” Before losing consciousness

Tom did before a man with pitch black eyes slammed against it.

Thankfully John had installed heavy wards around the bakery when it first opened.

They held against the demon on John’s tail. Tom brought John inside and unsure of what to do, grabbed a rolling pin on the counter.

The man outside started pounding on the glass door and every time his hands touched the door, light glowed outwards, showing the invisible magic barrier around the bakery. Sparks and steams fizzled with every pound.

Despite the reddening and burns of his hands, the not-human didn’t slow down.

“ʝօɦռ....ʏօʊ ӄռօա ȶɦǟȶ ɨȶ'ֆ օռʟʏ ǟ ʍǟȶȶɛʀ օʄ ȶɨʍɛ ɮɛʄօʀɛ ɨ ɮʀɛǟӄ ȶɦʀօʊɢɦ ȶɦɛֆɛ աǟʀɖֆ. օռƈɛ ɨ ɢɛȶ ʏօʊ,” He laughs, the sound sends chills down the large man’s spine, “ȶɦɛʀɛ ǟʀɛ ֆօ ʍǟռʏ ȶɦɨռɢֆ ɨ ɦǟʋɛ քʟǟռռɛɖ ʄօʀ ʏօʊ.”

Tom knew that Marinette’s father was a con man. Come on, Master and Practitioner of the Dark Arts and Occult. But he was a good father nonetheless despite all his flaws and Sabine liked him enough so that was good enough for him.

Before today, magic was just the sleight of hands and use of fancy tools to sell the illusions. Now, with a could-be-a-demon knocking on his door to get to the father of the girl he sees as his daughter, he’s not so sure.

“Tom? Qu'est-ce qui se passe? (What’s going on?)” A little voice came from the stairs, “Dad!” Marinette padded across the floor to the body of her passed out father.

She shook him awake and there were a few soft slaps to the face.

“Dad, what’s happened?”

John mumbles, “Demon…. possessing some rich guy….. Exorcism…. Doesn’t like me very much…Don’t worry...wards going to hold.”

John manages to stand before falling down and Tom catches him before he hits the floor. He has a concussion. Tom turns to Marinette, “Go, Hide and don’t come out until It’s safe.” which she did

Unfortunately, a while later, Sabine returns from her night out and the demon upon seeing Sabine. “ɛӼƈɛʟʟɛռȶ..”

The demon possessed Sabine and the previously possessed dude hit the sidewalk with a thud.

“ɨռȶɛʀɛֆȶɨռɢ....” The voice coming out of Sabine didn’t sound like her mother which scared Marinette a lot. “օքɛռ ȶɦɨֆ ɖօօʀ օʀ,”the demon pulled a knife out of thin air, ,“ȶɦɨֆ ɮօɖʏ ɢɛȶֆ ɨȶ.”

Tom hesitated until the demon put the knife on Sabine’s neck and put enough force for a thin line of blood to be shown.

He opens the door and the demon knocks him out. Stepping over his unconscious body and looking down on it, “ʄօʀ ȶɦǟȶ, ɨ ǟʍ ɢօɨռɢ ȶօ ʟɛȶ ʏօʊ ʟɨʋɛ ʊռȶɨʟ ɨ ǟʍ ɖօռɛ աɨȶɦ ʝօɦռ, օʄ ƈօʊʀֆɛ.” and cackles. The sound was so wrong and unnerving and little Marinette tried very hard for her sobs not to be heard.

Too bad the demon had super hearing. “Come out, my little blossom. Maman is home. Why don’t you come out and give me a hug?”

It sounded so much like her mother and she nearly believed that it was her mother and not some entity in control of her body.

But she knew better from John’s stories of dealing with demons and how they would use the voice of loved ones to lure them out and into a trap. (Definitely not something one should tell as a bedtime story but Marinette was very different and had an unconventional childhood with John Constantine as her father.)

Wait...she got struck with an idea but she wasn’t sure if it would work.

Before she could do anything, the door of the cabinet she was hiding in was opened and she was dragged out.

The demon lifted her a few feet above the ground by the collar of her dress.

It heard Marinette saying something. “աɦǟȶ ǟʀɛ ʏօʊ ֆǟʏɨռɢ ƈɦɨʟɖ, ֆքɛǟӄ ʟօʊɖɛʀ?”

“Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica.” Marinette was now screaming the words at the top of her lungs. She repeated the spell over and over again with fierce determination.

John, being his paranoid self, taught her the spell for an exorcism, just in case. Demons spared no one, not even a girl.

It screamed “NO….” as Sabine’s body contorted in strange angles before a dark shadow seemed to be dragged down into the ground. It made a desperate attempt to possess John before it was pulled away and disappeared. There was no sign that there was a demon attack.

After John woke up, he managed to piece together that his 5-years-old (Sorry 5 and a half) daughter sent a demon back to hell.

He was a very proud dad. (He was a tad worried about the consequences from this event and demons hold one hell of a grudge. He wanted his daughter to live a very safe and happy life. The bakery’s wards also need an upgrade.)

He also got the job of explaining what he actually did to Tom. And lots of reassuring.

Sabine, on one hand, was not happy that Marinette knew how to do magic. That is until John told her that he did it just in case so she can protect herself and later it was agreed that Marinette can learn some Magic spells and charms to better protect herself and when she is older, she can decide if she wants to continue or not.

----

(Part 2)

#bio!dad john constantine #maribat #damientte #damainette #platonic daminette #maybe?#minor swearing

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hookingminor · 3 years ago

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invisible string - cale makar

a/n: another old fic rewritten for our fav defenseman sorry the gif I found is so large I could not find any horizontal ones I liked that fit my aesthetic rip

word count: 3.6k

warnings: alcohol, very brief mentions of blood/injury

summary: based on taylor swift’s invisible string

You were going to miss this park.

Every Saturday afternoon you come here. Most of the time, you spent your day underneath the large oak tree planted in the center of the park, nose deep in whatever book you were currently reading. This month’s choice was I’ll Give You The Sun. Occasionally, you would do homework or take a nap, but your favorite thing to do was read. This oak tree was your favorite spot in all of Calgary, and you were really going to miss it.

After five years in Calgary, you were finally moving back home to Denver. Your family moved around a lot as your dad was transferred frequently, but your true home was Denver. You hadn’t been back there since you were six, but it was still home.

Calgary was always temporary. You knew eventually you’d pack up and leave, your parents dragging you along with them because you were only sixteen and had no choice, but it got exhausting after a while. You just wanted to stay somewhere.

Even though you knew your time in Calgary was limited, it didn’t stop you from falling in love with the city.

On the Saturdays that you spent tucked away underneath the tree, you always let your mind wander into daydreams of meeting someone there. You dreamed of being swept away in a whirlwind of a romance, and it all started with meeting someone at the park. All your daydreams could probably be tied back to the numerous romances you continuously read or due to the fact you longed for a teenage love, but what could you say? You were a hopeless romantic. Maybe it would be someone walking their dog or an afternoon jogger running into you or a lost tourist asking for directions. Either way, you thought it would be the most romantic meet-cute, under your special tree.

Five years passed, though, and your dreams of meeting someone dwindled until the only reasons you went to the park were purely for peace and quiet. Now, you were spending your last day in Calgary in your favorite spot, soaking up the sunshine as you finished your latest book.

On the last page, five paragraphs from being done, you heard a loud scream.

Your head snapped up, concentration broken as you searched around for the origin of the noise. Lo and behold, off in the distance, you saw the form of a boy rollerblading down the bike trail. There must have been some sticks or rocks on the path because the boy kept shouting as he wailed his arms around, unable to stop.

You watched as he continued stumbling for a few seconds before he careened off the trail and into the grass, tumbling onto the ground before rolling into a nearby tree.

Initially, your jaw dropped in shock, a soft gasp escaping as you covered your mouth with your hand. You waited a few seconds, watching for movement, and then you heard the pained groans coming from the injured boy.

The boy gradually pushed himself up by his hands, and you could see the bloody scrapes on his forearms even from your distance away. He slowly got back up on his feet, limping across the grass as he made his way back to the trail.

Not being able to help yourself, you began laughing at his misfortune. Now that you knew he was okay, the screaming and fall replayed in your mind, and you couldn’t help but laugh at the situation.

You thought you were far enough away that he wouldn’t be able to hear you, but you were sadly mistaken. The boy’s head turned to the sound of your laughter, and he followed it until his eyes met yours. You stopped laughing, but the smile on your face refused to fall as you took in his disheveled state.

He watched you try to hide your amused smile to no avail. It only took a few seconds of chuckling while directly staring at him before he returned your smile with one of his own. You saw a flash of teeth and the corner of his lips pulled into a smirk. He gave you one last glance, shaking his head slightly before turning back towards the direction he’d come from. You watched his figure rollerblade back down the path, avoiding the obstructions this time, and disappear from your vision.

The boy rollerbladed to the park the next Saturday. He skated by the same spot where he fell last week and glanced over to the centered oak tree, hoping to see you again, but you were nowhere to be found.

Cale couldn’t sleep. It seemed like no matter what he did, he just couldn’t fall asleep. The team had put him in a hotel for a few weeks while they worked on finding him a more permanent residence, but despite the comfort of the hotel bed, he didn’t find the mattress agreeable.

He’d been in Denver for two weeks now and he’d yet to see anything in the city besides the arena. His days were full of hockey practices and meetings, and his evenings were full of extra training at the gym. The latter was his own personal choice; he didn’t want to squander his chance at playing in the NHL and felt that he needed to train a little harder, being new and all.

He tossed and turned in bed for two hours before finally giving up. Sleep obviously wasn’t going to come to him soon, so he might as well kill some time instead.

Pulling out his phone, Cale searched ‘diners near me’ into Google and scrolled through the list of options. He selected the one nearest to him that was also open twenty-four hours, entered the address into maps, threw on a pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt, and was out of the door within three minutes.

The chilly, brisk walk to the diner took ten minutes from the hotel. Cale hadn’t been in Denver long, but he knew the weather was going to agree with him, if only because he had so much experience with the bitter cold Calgary winters.

A bell dinged above his head as he entered through the front door. Cale glanced around the small diner, noticing a few old truckers at the counter, a young teenage couple near the window, and a girl his age tucked away into a corner booth writing into a notebook.

A middle-aged woman with graying hair approached him at the front, a menu in her hand.

“Just one?” She asked him, noticing his lost puppy look. Cale nodded his head in agreement, following the lady to a secluded booth.

She set down the menu in front of him before pulling out a mug to pour him a cup of coffee.

“New around here?” She asked him as his eyes read the menu slowly.

“Is it that obvious?” He replied with an awkward chuckle.

“We usually have a small group of regulars. Your ‘deer caught in the headlights’ look is a dead giveaway,” she said with a warm smile. “I’ll give you a few minutes to decide.”

The woman walked back behind the counter, serving more coffee to the truckers. He saw one cook in the back kitchen ,but other than those two, no one else was working. Probably because it was a little past two in the morning on a Wednesday.

He took his time reading over the menu; he couldn’t decide if he wanted a breakfast platter or a nice burger with fries. He’d narrowed it down to two options when he saw you shuffle out of the corner booth, backpack slung over your shoulders.

You walked his way, the only path to the front door was past his table. His eyes connected with yours, and you gave him a warm smile.

Pausing next to his booth, he watched you as you leaned over his shoulder.

“If you’ve never been here before, I highly recommend the caramel and cream cheese French toast. It’s not on the menu, but they’ll make it anyway if you ask. Oh, and get tater tots instead of the hashbrowns, they’re a lot better,” you suggested.

You flashed him a bright smile, and Cale’s eyes lit up. It felt like he’d seen that smile before, an old memory from a dream that he couldn’t quite remember. He wanted to say thank you or maybe ask what your name was, but you continued on your way out the door before he got a chance to reply. His gaze stayed fixed on the swinging bell above the entrance long after he’d watched you turn down the corner and fade into the night.

His trance was broken when he heard the voice of the waitress call out to him.

“So, did you decide on something?” She asked, a knowing grin on her lips.

The two choices Cale was torn between suddenly vanished from his mind; he couldn’t even remember what he wanted to order before you said something. Cale bit his lip and thought about it. French toast really wasn’t on his diet. All he could do was hope that the extra hours he spent in the hotel gym would pay off and negate the sugar-filled and fatty calories he was about to consume.

Closing the menu without a second glance, he turned his attention towards the waitress. “Yeah, I’ll have the caramel and cream cheese french toast with tater tots, please.”

Cale was riding high. The team had just made it to the Stanley Cup finals, and no one could contain their excitement.

Going against the advice of their coaches, a few of them had decided to go out to celebrate. It was nothing big, just a small dive bar on the edge of the city. They wanted to celebrate their hard work, not get so trashed they’d be completely useless for practice tomorrow. They still had their toughest games ahead of them.

The bar was quiet, only a few local patrons were there besides the team. If anyone knew who they were, no one approached them about it. The night passed quickly, laughter and cheers filling the small space as pints of beer were drained.

“Makar, grab the next round,” his captain ordered, and he was too happy to do so. Cale was the resident golden retriever on the team. Someone would say ‘jump’ and Cale would ask ‘how high?’ but he didn’t feel used. He loved being a part of a team. So, he made his way across the room to the bar and ordered two more pints.

For you, it had been a hell of a week. And not in a good way. You finished your Bachelor’s degree almost two weeks ago, but the stress didn’t end when you turned in your last finals. Work was awful, but you still had another couple months until you began your life as a real career woman. You were stuck there for the rest of the summer, promising your supervisor that you wouldn’t leave during their busiest season just because you’d graduated even though you really wanted to put in your two weeks. It was a mistake to make that promise.

After spending a day running numbers and creating spreadsheets that a ten year old could’ve done, all you wanted right now was a drink: the strongest drink you could think of. Perhaps an entire bottle of whiskey if they’d allow it. Or if you could afford it.

The minute after your shift was over, you were out the door and removing the suffocating blazer before you’d even hit the sidewalk. You began the familiar route to your favorite bar, being that it was close to work, cheap, and almost always empty.

When you entered the small bar, you noticed it was slightly busier than normal. Still relatively quiet, but busier than you were used to. You didn’t let it deter you as you walked directly to the bar.

However, it seemed the universe wasn’t done punishing you because when you were five steps away from the countertop, someone turned around abruptly. A hard body slammed into yours along with half a pint of beer.

“Oh, fuck me!” You exclaimed in distress, throwing your hands up as the beer splashed all over your blouse.

“Shit, I’m so sorry!” The culprit said, setting the beers back on the bar behind him. He reached over to grab a handful of napkins and then began patting furiously at your top.

“It’s fine,” you sighed, “Today just really isn’t my day.” You took the napkins from one of his hands to dry yourself off.

You looked up to face the man who’d drenched you with cheap beer, and you were met with a dazzling pair of blue eyes. They looked familiar, as if you’d seen him before but couldn’t remember where.

He caught your stare, his lips quirking into a smile at the sight of you. Cale felt a tug inside him, like the feeling of butterflies, when he saw your face. Waves of coolness washed over him, and he was lost in your eyes.

“I’m sorry I ruined your shirt,” he said in a daze, unable to look away from you. He really hoped it didn’t come off as creepy, but little did he know you felt the same way.

“It’s okay, I wasn’t attached to it anyway,” you said, all your previous anger leaving your body. It was actually one of your nicer tops that would cost way too much money to dry clean now, but you weren’t thinking about that.

“Do I know you?” You both asked at the same time. The coincidence caused you two to burst out laughing, and he swore he’d heard that laugh before.

“How about I buy you a drink to make up for this?” He asked, beaming from ear to ear.

Your eyes twinkled as you nodded your head, and Cale felt his heart burst at your smile.

A year passed in a blurry haze. The night out at the bar turned into a two hour conversation with the stranger who’d spilled beer all over you. He apologized profusely the entire night and introduced himself to make up for it. He only ordered you two drinks, but you spent hours together laughing.

You told him about your hellish day and complained about work, and he recalled the wins and upcoming games he had in the next couple weeks. Soon, you were exchanging life stories and you found out he was originally from Calgary. You discussed your hobbies and interests outside of work, the best movies you’ve seen recently, and where in Denver you could find the most authentic Mexican food.

Eventually, it neared one in the morning, and Cale had to get home for practice in the morning. As much as he wanted to stay longer to talk to you, he knew he had to get going before his teammates ratted him out tomorrow.

“Do you mind if I walk you home?” He asked, the drinks between you finished long ago. It sounded a little odd asking a stranger he just met if he could essentially follow her home, but he hoped he didn’t give off stalker vibes.

“I’d like that,” you replied with a smile. It sounded a little odd agreeing to let a stranger you just met have your address, but something tugged at your heartstrings and told you to take the leap.

When he dropped you off outside of your apartment, he had asked for your number. That night turned into a first date and that first date turned into many dates. Cale easily swept you off your feet, and it was even easier to fall in love with him.

After years of dating the wrong guys, of being burned and cheated on and lied to, the world had sent you the perfect man. A man with a soul equivalent to a thousand beaming rays of sunshine all wrapped up in perfect blonde hair and blue eyes and rosy cheeks.

He did everything for you. He sent you flowers randomly, surprised you with your favorite takeout, and took you on the most extravagant dates. You went to his games, house sat his plants when he was on roadtrips, and left him little notes in his suitcases to find when he was away. You knew within two months of dating that he was the one you were going to end up with. Cale was your forever.

There were no awkward phases in your dating life, no uncertainties or questions about what you were as a couple. Cale was as taken with you as you were with him, and you both knew what you wanted out of your relationship. It felt like you knew each other for years, like he’d always been there in the back of your mind, just out of reach and waiting for you to find him.

You didn’t know how much you believed in fate, but it felt like the universe made him specifically for you. He understood you like no one did and you could communicate with him without ever saying a word. If soulmates and other halves did exist, there was no doubt in your mind that Cale was your missing piece.

It was a year after you began dating that Cale invited you back home with him. He wanted you to spend a few weeks over the summer with him and his family in Calgary.

Cale was elated to introduce you to his family. He planned on marrying you one day, and he wanted everyone to meet the woman who’d stolen his heart. Everything about you consumed him: your hair, your eyes, your smile. There wasn’t a single part of you he wasn’t madly in love with and there was nothing about you he’d change. It was a long time coming, you going home with him, and you couldn’t be more excited about it.

He spent the first few days showing you around his favorite childhood hangouts, the rinks he used to skate on and the pizza places he used to frequent with his friends. He showed you his high school, secret hidden spot near a small lake, and the best ice cream shop in all of Calgary.

It was one day when you were walking through the old park you used to read where you shared your favorite spot.

“When I lived here, I used to spend every weekend under that oak tree,” you said randomly, pointing out to the large tree across the grass.

“Really? I used to rollerblade through this park sometimes. One day I completely ate shit on this path,” he chuckled, remembering the painful memory. “I sprained my wrist and arm. Couldn’t play hockey for three weeks.”

“How old were you?” You asked curiously, thinking back to the day you saw a boy fall.

“Sixteen, maybe?” He replied, brows furrowing in thought. You and Cale were the same age.

“This might sound crazy, but I think I saw you fall that day,” you said. Cale turned to look into your eyes.

“Were you the girl laughing at me under the tree?” He asked skeptically. The blush forming on your cheeks and the way you broke eye contact answered the question for you.

“It was you! I always thought it was rude how you didn’t offer to help me,” he said with a hearty laugh.

“To be fair, I was worried when you fell down. But then you got up and seemed okay, so I didn’t bother,” you said defensively.

“Still, you sat there and laughed at me while I bled on the grass,” he teased, slugging your arm lightly.

“Well, it seems that everything turned out okay for you,” you said, rolling your eyes dramatically.

“Yeah, it did,” he replied wistfully, reaching down to hold your hand with his.

The two of you walked through the rest of the park, but your gaze kept flickering back to the center field where your tree sat, your brain replaying the daydreams you had about meeting your true love underneath that tree. A nostalgic smile spread across your face, and Cale noticed your suddenly cheery mood.

“What are you smiling about?” He asked, a playful grin of his own appearing. He couldn’t help but smile when he saw you smile.

“Nothing,” you replied, keeping the tender secret to yourself.

Three years later, Cale took you home with him over the short winter break he got while the All-Star Game happened. You walked through the park together, a tradition that you created ever since that first summer back.

The air was cool and crisp, the skies a beautiful shade of purple and pink against the blue background. He led you over to your favorite tree, pulling you from the usual path you took around the park. In all the times you’ve been to the park with him, you’d never actually taken him to sit under your tree.

You felt butterflies erupt in your stomach at the feeling of being in your favorite spot with your favorite person. Your heart rate began to pick up as Cale dropped your hand to stand across from you, giving you a knowing smile.

When he took a step back, you felt the tears begin to well up in your eyes as if your heart knew where this was heading before your brain could process it. Cale lowered himself onto one knee before he pulled out a small velvet box from his coat pocket, opening it to reveal a diamond ring.

The fantasies you created in your mind all those years ago finally came to fruition that snowy day in January. All along you knew that one day you’d meet the love of your life under this tree even if you hadn’t realized it at the time, and you thanked whatever gods existed for the invisible strings that tied you to Cale.

#cale makar #cale makar imagine #nhl imagine #hockey imagines #my writing #avs8

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ohmygoodnessgraciouss · 4 years ago

Text

Reality Check - Chapter 5

Here we are once again! Check out the #Reality Check Masterlist tag on the bottom if you need the other chapters. A new masterlist will be created sometime this week! Enjoy! <3 I love you all 3000

Summary: Y/N and Wanda were very close after returning in 2023. The two bonded over the loss of their partners. It wasn’t enough to keep Wanda grounded after she found Vision’s body though, and Wanda wants the best for her friend. Unfortunately for Y/N, this means she’s going to be thrown into a reality she wasn’t expecting.

Notes: Y’all are going to lose your minds. There are no warnings. I can’t spoil when we’re this close. Just know that this has been in mind the entire time. I couldn’t let you all know the entire plot so early on ;)

Just as you were finishing up breakfast the lights went out. The only light now was the sun peeking through the windows of the kitchen, illuminating the room with a soft glow. The bacon was still sizzling in the pan and you groaned. Suddenly, the water pipe burst in the sink as well, causing water to spray everywhere. “Can this day get any better?!” You ran over to the water pipes underneath the sink, turning the valves until they shut off completely.

Water continued to drip from the counters, soaking everything near it. Just as you were grabbing towels Loki walked in, his eyes still showing signs of sleep in them. “What happened? I heard you yelp,” He asked, concerned.

“The power went out and the water pipe burst. A great combination if I do say so myself.” Your voice was laced with sarcasm as Loki brought a few more towels over, covering the floor and stomping on them to soak up the water.

“Don’t worry about it love, these things happen.” He smiled a little, trying to help you feel better about it.

“Well, look at it this way,” You said, walking over to the other side of the counter. The plate of pancakes and bacon sat there, perfectly made, unharmed from the water. “Fate gave us a break with breakfast.” You grinned, holding up the plate to him. He laughed lightly and pulled out two smaller plates from the cupboard.

“A not-so-perfect start to the day, but a start nonetheless.”

You placed the plates in the sink once you were done, completely forgetting that you couldn’t clean them up just yet. You thought about what you could do and decided it may be best to go see if Wanda or Geraldine were having similar issues. It would be a chance to get out of the house and find out if the entire neighborhood was having these problems too.

“Loki, I’m going to go out and see if anyone else is having problems. It could be better than asking an electrician to come over just yet.” You stated, putting your shoes on. Loki walked over to you before responding.

“Alright, stay safe, my love.” He kissed the top of your head. You smiled at the affection but you were slightly confused.

“I’m just going out around the neighborhood. I’ll be alright, I promise,” You laughed a little. Loki’s concern seemed so out of place for him. You didn’t remember him ever being that protective of you. Then again, how long ago would that have been exactly? “What’s got you so worked up lately?”

“It’s nothing much. It just feels like so much is changing so quickly. And it feels like you’re changing with it. Not-” He quickly stopped himself, “Not in that sense. I mean, it’s changing you in a way that I’m worried will harm you.”

“Things may be changing, but I don’t think it’s a bad thing. It’s good that there’s change. Maybe it’s something we need here.” You smiled. “I’ll see you later, hon.”

You walked out the door and down the street. Oddly enough, there weren’t many people outside. Taking a peek into their windows you could see that it was all dark. Not a single light shone in them, nor did a person walk by. It was like they were frozen in time.

As you made your way to Wanda’s house, you noticed Agnes and Vision talking. It looked like Herb was next to Agnes. The three of them seemed to having a nice discussion as they laughed about something. What you found odd, however, was the man standing across the street watching them. His black hair was slicked back and he was in a suit. It was Scott.

You waved over to him and walked across to say hello. After the ordeal that went down with him yesterday, a part of you was just drawn to him. You weren’t sure if you wanted to apologize for being rude or find out what he was going on about. Either way, he noticed you and smiled, breaking your train of thought. “Y/N, how lovely to see you.”

“Hey Scott, what’s with the suit? It’s a Saturday, who goes to work today?” You asked, laughing a little. He looked down to the ground quickly before meeting your eyes again. A kind of sadness seemed to loom in his eyes.

“I had to go into the office today to take care of some work. The boss apparently decided that I needed to get something done by Monday if I wanted a promotion. It didn’t take long, but it ended with a meeting so I had to make sure I dressed properly.”

“The boss needed you on a Saturday? Well, I can’t say much, except that I feel sorry for you.” The two of you shared a laugh which she seemed to catch Agnes’ eye momentarily. You noticed the quick glance she gave the two of you before resuming her discussion. “Well, aside from that, how are you doing?”

“Well, I’m... Alright, we can say. I was actually looking for you, so I’m glad to see you.” He said. Your head tilted in confusion.

“Me? Why were you looking for me?”

Something in his eyes seemed to change again. You couldn’t place your finger on the emotion though. He hesitated before he responded, as if he was trying to choose his words carefully before replying. It was like he needed to know what the right answer was to a simple question. “I wanted to check on you. Gossip spreads around this town faster than you think. Agnes had already mentioned you running off from the talent show to me. I wanted to check on you.”

“Check on me? Oh, that woman. She’s so nosy, it drives me up the wall sometimes. I swear if you ever mentioned what you told me to that woman, she’d let the entire town know in less than sixty seconds,” You shook your head. He chuckled, nodding in agreement.

“Yes, I know. That’s why I trusted you with that information and not her. However... I wanted to apologize for that. That was a lot I asked from you in such a short amount of time, especially when we had just met. Could we start over?” He asked.

“Absolutely, Scott. I wouldn’t want anything else.” You grinned.

“Wanda, are you sure you want to go here?” You asked, looking down at the address she had written down. She nodded, watching you grab the car keys and pull on a jacket.

“Vision wanted me to go there. He wanted me to see it. Even if he’s not there to see it too.” She looked down dejectedly. You brought her into a hug before pulling the address up on Google Maps.

“Alright, let’s go see this place.”

The drive itself was quiet, the radio muted as you listened to the directions. Neither of you spoke a word on the three-hour trip. It was all the way over in New Jersey, which confused you. What was so special about this place?

You drove into a town that seemed run down. People still lived in it, clearly, as you saw them walk down the cracked pavement following the street. Some sat down in front of restaurants as others spoke in hushed whispers, clearly confused by the visitors coming to their town.

You turned down countless streets that all looked the same. Houses lined up next to each other with busy lawns, filled with weeds and trees that grew to monstrous heights. Some of the homes didn’t seem to be very well taken care of, leading you to believe they had been abandoned there for years. “Are you sure this is it?” You asked her once more, breaking the silence.

“Yes, I’m positive.” She looked down at a paper that she had finally pulled out ten minutes ago. You couldn’t look down to see it, but out of the corner of your eye you saw red markings on it.

“If you’re sure. Then, this is it.” You pulled up to an empty lot that sat between houses. You stopped the car, watching her take a deep breath. You finally looked at what the paper was. It was a deed for the land. The red markings were a heart, with a small message from Vision. You smiled sadly at the note.

“Thank you, Y/N. Thank you for doing this.” She said, her voice failing her towards the end. You placed a comforting hand on her shoulder as she unbuckled.

“Do you need some time here alone? I need to go get gas anyway for when we leave. I can come pick you up in a few minutes.” You offered. She contemplated it for a minute before finally nodding. By the downward turns at the corners of her lips you could tell she couldn’t say anything. She got out of the car wordlessly and walked to the center of the lot.

You drove away, watching her with sad eyes through your mirror. You knew she needed this moment and you hoped it would only help her move on.

You drove about a mile outside of town to get gas when you noticed the bright burst of energy behind you. You could only watch in amazement as the red magic filled the air, creating a huge barrier. You recognize it immediately as Wanda’s magic.

Instead of getting gas you got in the car and drove back to Westview, reaching the barrier. Its magic swirled and the energy radiating from it was warm, almost trying to drag you in with it. You walked slowly to the barrier, looking for anyone else around. There wasn’t a single soul.

You knew you should’ve called someone, anyone, to help you. You had no idea what this magic would do, but as you pushed your hand through it you knew it was too late. You were immediately pulled into the barrier and you blacked out.

“Y/N, may I ask you a question?” He asked, watching Agnes talk to Vision once again. You followed his eyes, noticing the strange aura that seemed to float around them. It looked tense, as if they were about ready to start fighting about something.

“Of course, what is it?” You asked.

“Do you remember the time-” He stopped himself. “Nevermind, it’s not important.” He saw Agnes look over at him, a deadly glare in her eyes. Whether it was from fear or anger, her eyes seemed to send a chill down his spine involuntarily. “I should get going. There is some more business I must take care of and I’m sure you were on your way somewhere too.”

“Oh, yes! I was going to see if Wanda or Geraldine had power. It seems like the power went out in a few parts of the street, so there’s your warning. You may go back to a dark house!” The two of you shared a laugh.

“I’ll keep that in mind, thank you.” He began to walk away as you walked across the street. Vision and Agnes were tense, so maybe you could break the ice.

“Hey neighbors, how are you all doing?” You asked. They turned to you, their faces breaking out in wide smiles.

“Hi hon, what are you doing all the way over here?” She asked.

“I wanted to see if Wanda was having any issues with the power as well. It seems like something knocked out the power down the street.” You smiled. Agnes nodded understandingly.

“Unfortunately my house got knocked out too. I just got it back though, so you may be in luck when you get home,” She turned to Herb once she finished her statement.

“Well either way, hello Vision, how are you doing?” You asked, turning to him now that Agnes clearly didn’t want to talk anymore.

“I’m doing just fine, Y/N, thank you for asking. Well, I could be better.” He said, looking over to the house momentarily.

“Why’s that? Something wrong at home?”

“Well, no not exactly. Wanda was pregnant and she just had our two sons, Billy and Tommy.” He said it proudly, but then his mood took a turn. “I’m just not prepared for it. I’m worried something will go wrong.”

“Wanda was pregnant?!” Was the first thing to come out of your mouth. The last time you saw her was just yesterday and she wasn’t showing at all. How did it happen so quickly?

“Yes, she was. It was a surprise to us all, I can assure you of that. A happy surprise, of course,” He chuckled, trying to ease his worries himself.

“Oh, don’t start with that Vision. This will be wonderful! You two have an even bigger family now. And you know everyone around here is going to be super supportive of you two the entire time. We’re all neighbors, we’re here to help whenever you need it.”

He smiled, looking at the ground. “Thank you very much, Y/N, it means a lot. Wanda and I will probably need it every once in a while. Handling one son would be a handful, but handling twin boys will be a challenge we didn’t expect.”

“It’s nothing you guys won’t be able to handle, I’m sure. Is she feeling alright? Could I go see her?”

“Oh yes, absolutely. I’m sure she would be delighted to see you,” He smiled, stepping aside. “I have to discuss something with Agnes anyway, so I will see you inside.”

You smiled and nodded, walking into the home. There you saw Wanda and Geraldine holding the babies. “Well isn’t this a joyful surprise,” You commented. Wanda turned around quickly, her eyes lighting up at your presence.

“Y/N! Welcome, come in, come in,” She smiled, looking down at Billy in her arms. “I want you to meet my boys, Billy and Tommy.”

Geraldine smiled softly and handed Tommy to you. His eyes were shut but you could tell he looked just like a perfect mix of Wanda and Vision. He fit in your arms perfectly, snuggled in his blanket. “They’re beautiful, Wanda.”

Tommy slowly woke up, his bright eyes staring up at you in curiosity. You were surprised to see newborns be so active, but what did you know about babies? Maybe they’re just a little different.

He stuck one of his arms out of the blanket, pressing his hand up against his eye as he slowly woke up, trying to rub the tiredness out. He cooed a little and you could see the love in Wanda’s eyes as he did. “Hey there, little guy,” You smiled, holding up your hand near him. When you placed your pinky in his hand he immediately grasped it. It was such a simple act that made your heart skip a beat.

You giggled and slowly moved your finger away from him. “Oh, Y/N, could you please go grab something from my bedroom upstairs. I have a book up there on the shelf. It’s the second door on the right. It’s a baby book and I want to know what else to expect from these two,” She said, pointing up the stairs.

You nodded. “Of course! Here, Geraldine, can you take Tommy?” You gave her Tommy and started making your way upstairs.

You found the door and entered. It was a simple room. The bed had a dark frame with white sheets. The red comforter was tucked in neatly and the pillows were underneath. The bedside tables had matching lamps, a clock on one side. To the right you could see a closet hidden by two doors. A bookshelf stood next to the closet. That must have been the shelf you needed.

The bookshelf was littered with different colored books of all sizes. One was a dictionary, another was a fiction novel, another seemed to be on some sort of philosophy. It was almost like you could pinpoint whose book was whose.

The one book stood off to the side. A baby blue cover, a little binkie on the front. The title was simply “What to Expect: The First Year.” It had a small red glow around it, much like the items in the store just yesterday. You picked the book up and the glow dissipated. You flipped through the pages lightly while beginning to walk out of the room.

You stopped in your tracks when you heard a loud crash come from downstairs. You ran towards the stairs, hiding immediately when you saw the large hole created in the wall. Wanda stood across from it, the eerie red glow surrounding her hands. It had to have been Geraldine who had gone flying through the wall. She wasn’t there anymore and the hole was large enough for a person.

You watched in amazement as Wanda began moving her hands around, the wall repairing itself. It was like magic. The red glow faded from her hands and she straightened out her dress. She turned back towards the twins.

To avoid raising suspicion, you began walking down the stairs. “I found it!” You said, handing the book over to her. She smiled and thanked you for it, opening the book to a specific chapter. “Where’s Geraldine?” You asked, looking around innocently.

“She had to go. She didn’t belong.”

Oh yeah. You have to get out of there.

___________________________________________

Scott walked up to the house, knocking on the door. He straightened out his suit as he waited for an answer. This had to be the right house. No other house was like it on the street. If it wasn’t, he was about to be in big trouble by the boss.

Loki opened the door, a gentle smile on his face. “Hello-” He was immediately cut off as Scott walked in, taking his shirt collar. He shut the door and slammed Loki up against it. Loki’s eyes widened at the action. “What are you doing?”

A knife was quickly placed against his neck. Scott glared at the man before him with steely eyes. “Who are you?”

“And why are you pretending to be me?”

@emberfulclass @momoneymolife @high-priestesss @hailey-the-heathen @mochminnie @dpaccione @intricate-melody @lindseyrae20 @storminateacup15 @ilovemollyweasley @bookgirlunicorn @chims-kookies @austynparksandpizza @yikesdameron @littleladdty @three-eyed-snail @kymera-casterwill @justsomerandompersonintheworld @followthepastelcloud @11mb0 @carolinesbookworld @from-hel-i-with-love @grimalkynslee @boywivlove @prettysbliss @youreobsessedwithmarvel @th3gl1tt3gram3roff1c1al @luthien-t @lokilove3000 @treblebeth

#loki #loki x reader #loki laufeyson #loki odinson #thor #marvel #avengers #wandavision #wandavision spoilers #vision #wanda maximoff #Scarlet Witch #fluff #romance #fanfic #fanfiction #Reality Check Masterlist

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bestiepetedavidson · 4 years ago

Note

Can I request hcs what Pete would do when you're standing in the middle of the night at his door, after a break up with your now ex boyfriend? Thankss ❣

yes! this game me inspo and i’m going to try to do a written-out story if that’s ok! :)

a/n: y’all this is the first story ish thing i’ve ever written so i apologize if it’s really bad/cringey! i feel like it’s extremely choppy but idrk how to fix it. constructive critism/suggestions/etc is ALWAYS appreciated! thank u! <3

song to listen to: i’m thinking adore you by bestie harry? idk it just fits hehe

tw: angst? i think? idk this is my first time writing this much lol. some strong language. ending with fluff :)

it was almost 3 am on a saturday night, pouring rain and thundering, and you were left crying on your now ex’s doorstep. you ran into your car, soaking wet. your boyfriend/girlfriend of 3 years, the person you were gonna marry- had just dumped you. they cheated on you with your best friend.

you had no one to talk to and nowhere to go. you’re pretty introverted, and the only people you really had were your ex-best friend, your ex, and your friend pete. and pete’s friends too, technically. they were mainly his friends but you would all hang out together, none of which you felt comfortable enough to go to.

you called pete- no answer. he probably still hasn’t left 30 Rock. but anyways, he had a lot on his plate. you continued to bawl as tears rolled down your cheeks and your mascara smudged underneath your eyes. you broke down and you couldn’t stop. he/she broke your heart into a million pieces in the matter of seconds. the past 3 years of your life had gone to waste.

you decided to just drive. you didn’t have anywhere to go because you were staying with him/her. you just drove around aimlessly for 20 minutes, still crying the whole time. then, you got a phone call. “pete”, your phone read. thank god. quickly, you pulled into a random grocery store’s parking lot. you picked the phone up and your bluetooth connected to your car.

“y/n” pete said. he sounded tired.

“yeah?” you responded, still crying.

“what happened? is everything okay?”

you tried to explain what had just happened, but you were too much of a crying mess for him to make out anything you were saying.

pete, confused, told you “y/n, i’m sorry, i can’t understand what you’re saying”. he took a deep breath, and continued. “do you want to come over? i just got home from work. we can talk it out”. his voice sounded worried

you agreed and hung up, and set your google maps to his apartment address. you started to blast a random spotify breakup playlist and drove.

a little later, at around 3:40, you finally made it. still soaking wet from the rain, you took the elevator up to his floor. you had somewhat calmed down, but you looked like you’ve been through a trainwreck. you knocked on pete’s door and he opened it to see you in your current state. the moment you saw him you just broke down, and he pulled you into a hug without saying anything.

so there you two were. just standing in the middle of the building’s hallway, hugging. in the middle of the night. he didn’t care that you were getting him and his clothes wet, and he didn’t care that he couldn’t go to sleep. he was simply focused on you and what was going on. he softly rubbed your back, and every time you would start shake uncontrollably again, he’d just hug you harder.

eventually, he suggested going back in. “y/n, let’s go inside and sit. you can tell me what’s going on and i’ll do my best to help.”

he held the door for you to go in, and you walked in and sat on his couch. he sat right next to you and there was a moment of silence before he decided to speak up. “hey.. y/n look at me. please.”

his words only made you cry more. he place his hand on your chin and slowly lifted it, giving you a slight “please tell me what’s going on” smile.

you took his hand off of your face and held on to his thumb. you were luckily able to get a hold of yourself and explained to him what had just happened, crying in between sentences. he didn’t take his eyes off of you for a second. he stayed there and listened to absolutely everything you had to stay, his thumb still in your hand. by the time you were done, any trace of makeup that was still on your eyes was a done deal, and it was all smeared on your cheeks. he took a deep breath and gave his opinions.

“wow.. y/ex/n is a fucking scumbag. no like seriously, what the actual fuck. who would do that? and especially to someone like you.. y/n you deserve so much better than that piece of shit. fuck him/her.”

you cried, and responded with “no, he/she’s right. i wasn’t worth it and y/bsf/n is so much better fit for him/her. she’s so much prettier and smarter and just better”

pete took a second. “y/n that is so fucking wrong. you can’t say that about yourself. you are beautiful and smart and amazing in every single way. anybody would be lucky as fuck to date you.”

you simply shrugged, he knew that he couldn’t technically change your mind and that you weren’t in a state to really believe that, so you just let it be. he took both of his hands and cupped your face.

“you are perfect.” he tried to wipe your cheeks with his thumbs but it only made things worse, spreading it all across your face. you looked across the room at that large mirror he had hanging on the wall and went “ah”, making fun of the way he made it look.

“hey, at least we have matching raccoon eyes now” pete said, smiling. to that you giggled, and he responded with “gahhh, there’s that smile i love”, as he hugged you again.

still sniffling but now with a smile on your face, you whispered “thank you” in his ear.

“anytime. and listen, you don’t get to talk about my best friend like that.” he responded

sending him another smile, you went to his bathroom to wash your face.

best friend, he said. nothing more.

while you still loved your ex boyfriend/girlfriend, you always secretly had a crush on pete. it was ever anything you would’ve acted on though. first of all, because of your friendship. you wouldn’t want to ruin the way things were. second, because you were dating someone. you loved them and you wouldn’t just cheat... but apparently they would. and did. third, you had just had your heart broken. you were in no state of mind to just go and admit your crush. but god, was it tempting. and it’s not like if you were to, you would want to start dating him. he most likely wouldn’t like you back, and even if he did, you wouldn’t want to date. you learned that you needed to take things slow, and pete knew that about himself too.

you walked back out, and you noticed that pete was in the kitchen, making tea. he knows that you love it. he saw you glaring and smiled, going “what? you love it.” you started to giggle because pete is absolutely not a tea person, but the gesture is just so cute. “shut up,” pete jokingly went, “we’re watching spongebob to help calm you and you’re sleeping here tonight”

“oh petey! how you’re just the sweetest!” you mocked him, smiling at each other.

you went to his closet to get a bunch of blankets, and soon enough, y’all were sitting & cuddling on his couch, watching spongebob on his couch, drinking tea, and cuddled up in a multitude of blankets. you were still worn out from sobbing and very tired, but. it was the perfect comfort spot. he always knew what to do. he was your comfort person.

he started smoking a blunt, (that’s pete for you) and he offered if you wanted a hit, but you declined. smirking, he decided to put it out. after an episode, it was already 4 am. you knew he was tired and so were you, so you suggested going to sleep, but pete insisted that y’all finish the episode. neither of you were really paying attention but it was kind of just playing in the background.

pete starts talking about random stuff going on, life stuff, making little jokes, the SNL show that he just did, etc etc. he’s sitting back on the couch and you’re on his side, head on his chest. you’ve cuddled platonically before so it’s nothing new. you’re both watching the screen and going in and out of conversation. at some point, you lift your head up off his chest, and you just stare at him while he’s continuing his story. he doesn’t really notice you getting up, and continues to talk about a recent standup he did.

watching his face, his jaw moving, talking, the way he speaks and the way his voice sounds, something changes in you and you feel the urgent need to kiss him. he notices that you’re looking at him. he turns his head and looks down at you. the second he notices that you’re staring at him, his words slowly fade out and he just looks into your eyes, forgetting what he as saying before. you’re still in his arms, but your head is up and you’re just staring at each other. there’s about 5 inches between your faces, and your heart starts racing. his does too.

“pete” you quietly whisper.

he softly presses his lips into yours and you kiss him back. his hand runs through your hair. his lips are perfect and it’s like you two were made for each other. the kiss lasts for like 10 seconds, and he slowly pulls away. you’re both at a loss for words, and you’re still staring into each other’s eyes. pete, breathless, quickly glances that the digital clock underneath his tv.

“wow,” pete says. “i’ve been waiting for as long as i can remember for this to happen and it happens at 4:20,” slowly creeping up a smile.

“i kno-” you start to respond, when you fully realize what he just said. you cackle out and can’t stop laughing, neither can he.

you pull him back into you as you’re both still giggling and you softly make out for a little longer. eventually you fall asleep in his arms, right on his couch. with spongebob still playing in the background :)

i hope u enjoyed my very first mess of a story <3 requests are open!

🤍🤍🤍

#pete davidson #pete davidson x reader #pete davidson imagine #pete davidson x you

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floralseokjin · 4 years ago

Text

⤑ made-up love song drabbles

First date: Seokjin’s POV

kim seokjin x reader warnings; none! words; 2,196 words

↪︎ read the series here / and drabbles here

Seokjin felt like a drink. It was nine o’clock in the morning, so absolutely out of the question, but it didn’t stop him from craving it. Whiskey. Definitely whiskey. Nana’s PA had just been to pick up Arin for the weekend – Thank God. Finally she would be able to spend time with her mom after a month, which he was over the moon about, and selfishly, that meant his date with you could go ahead. Even if he was so nervous he could throw up.

Work had been a great distraction for the past two days but once he’d woken up this morning the realisation had dawned on him. He was going on a date tonight. His first in a decade. He still couldn’t believe he’d actually gone through with it and asked you to dinner. He’d faced his fears, possibly made a fool of himself and shared too much about his personal life in the process, but you hadn’t seemed to mind at all. You were so easy to talk to, it was refreshing. He’d felt brave for the first time in months – years. But it still didn’t stop him from being on pins as soon as he’d opened his eyes this morning.

He’d showered early, just after Arin had woken up and then he’d helped her get ready for the day too, allowing her to eat her breakfast in front of the television as he tried to swallow down his bowl of porridge too. It tasted like cardboard – but then again, it might have been his cooking. Misook usually made the food around her, when he wasn’t dining out or ordering take out of course.

Arin had noticed his strange mood straight away. Obviously.

“Daddy, what’s wrong with you this morning?” She’d asked, looking over at him warily before hesitating. “I am spending the weekend with mom, right?”

“Of course you are, sweetie” he’d rushed, shaking away the surge of anger he’d felt. It pained him to know she was always expecting the worst lately. “Your mom just text me to say Jia is on her way.”

She’d smiled then, her face lighting up and he couldn’t help but match it, his nerves disappearing for a while. That was until he was left all alone, the house now empty and silent. He eyed the bottle of whiskey on the kitchen counter (where he’d left it after his small nightcap last night) and shook his head. He should drop you a text, just to check in and see if you were still on for tonight. He needed to find out what time to pick you up anyway. He probably should have messaged you the day before, he panicked suddenly, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth as he pulled his phone from his sweatpants pocket. Oh well, there was no time for regrets, that’s what his father always said.

It took him at least ten minutes to figure out what to say. His first draft sounded too cheerful, too false, he was trying way too hard and had added an examination point. His second was too formal, fifteen years of sending business emails back and forth obvious. He settled on something in the middle – he hoped.

Unknown (9:32am) Hi Y/N, It’s Kim Seokjin, Arin’s father. Just wondering if you still want to have dinner tonight? If so, please let me know and I will send through the restaurant details. We can decide on a time for me to pick you up. Regards, Seokjin

Only, reading it back after he hit send he began to second guess himself. Of course you knew who he was, his confidence might be lacking a little right now but he knew he wasn’t totally forgettable. What an idiot. Not that he could do much, there was no turning back. He’d committed.

He busied himself with a bit of Saturday morning cleaning while he waited for your reply, and by that he meant straightening up the pillows he and Arin had been sitting against earlier. When he returned to the kitchen, your message was waiting for him.

You (9:43am) Of course, send the details. I trust your taste!

See, exclamation points suited you. It was cute. He could just imagine you saying it in person, your dazzling smile, maybe that little giggle you’d made a few times on Wednesday. He felt something warm in his chest as he got lost in his thoughts, nerves easing once again. You were excited for tonight, he told himself. Maybe you were even just as nervous as him possibly…

He spent yet another few minutes composing his reply. A lot more casual this time, signing off with just his name. He didn’t always text like this, Namjoon could vouch for him, but he didn’t think you were both quite there yet. He wanted to show his best self after all. He wanted to impress you. He wanted to make you like him as much as he liked you.

Seokjin (9:50am) The sudden pressure… The restaurant’s name is KIM. I hope you like it. Is 7 alright to pick you up? I made reservations for 7:30. Seokjin

In truth, this restaurant was one he co-owned with his brother. Seokchul was the executive chef and they were both very proud of how successful their business venture had become. He knew taking you to such a place might seem like a cop-out – or worse, a brag – but that wasn’t the case at all. He wanted to treat you in a place that meant a lot to him. He could have chosen multiple restaurants, he was a regular at quite a few and could easily get a great table, but see, that did seem like he was showing off and he did not want to give you that impression at all. It was the complete opposite of his personality. KIM was a good choice, he was sure of it, and it helped that his brother didn’t work weekends, so there was no risk of bumping into him. Although, he had let him know about the date (and had begged him not to spill to their mother).

You (9:52am) I will. 7 sounds perfect. I’ll send through my address. See you later!

You followed up with a Google Maps link to your home, and he sent a quick thank you – sans his name this time. With a quick sigh he pocketed his phone again, it was time to get on with his day. He had some paperwork from yesterday to complete by Monday morning so he should probably make a start. He stopped to order a light lunch at midday, ate it as he scrolled through his very limited social media before getting back to it.

He called it a day around 3pm, a call from his mom interrupting his flow. He spent an hour talking, their weekend phone calls were habitual by now and he enjoyed them immensely. He loved his father of course, but their conversations mostly revolved around work. Despite stepping down as CEO three years ago, he was still a vital member of the company, and Seokjin continued to consult him at every opportunity and lean on him for support when things got stressful. With his mom, she was the woman he could still be a kid around. They could talk about anything and everything, but for her own benefit he left out his plans for tonight. He knew what she was like, she’d get way too excited and overwhelmed and before long she’d be sobbing down the line while simultaneously asking to meet you. She’d been wanting him to meet someone new for so long, much like Mrs. Shin. It was a surprise the two women weren’t conspiring behind his back.

No, he’d keep it a secret for now. If things went well tonight, then possibly his mother would get to find out. He wasn’t getting his hopes up though – or at least he was trying not to.

It was just after four when he got off the phone, too early to start getting ready just yet, so he sat in front of the television and tried to concentrate on a series he’d recently started. (It wasn’t going well. He was on about one episode a week out of a nine season TV show.) It was no use though, the nerves were rearing their ugly head again.

He decided to choose his outfit. Seokjin wasn’t much of a thinker when it came to fashion, he just grabbed whatever he saw first that morning, but tonight he wanted to at least put some effort in. After much deliberation he decided on a navy two piece paired with a white dress shirt. It wasn’t over the top, he thought, but nice enough to make that impression that was so very important to him. He kept his hair simple. He’d managed to squeeze in a haircut yesterday so it made things easier, but upon closer inspection in the mirror he noticed those pesky grey hairs of his glittering in the sunlight. He grimaced, worried now. He didn’t know your exact age yet, but it was obvious he was a few years older than you. He was no spring chicken, especially with those wrinkles around his eyes. He had been called handsome all his life, no stranger to it, but right now he was dubious.

He pushed his trivial concerns away and concentrated on the next decision. What car he would take. He didn’t want to go too flash – again with the showing off thing – so the Aston Martin was definitely off the cards. He hadn’t actually driven that one much, going through some sort of so-called midlife crisis when he’d bought it straight after his divorce, so he made a mental note to take it out next weekend. He decided on the Mercedes convertible (roof on, of course). It seemed like a suitable choice, not too flashy at all really. He didn’t want to run the risk of putting you off him or overwhelming you with showy displays. He was well aware of the differences between your lifestyles, not that he cared at all, but it didn’t stop him from understanding. The things that seemed slight to him could very well be enormous for you. He didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable in any way, shape or form.

Shit, on second thoughts maybe his restaurant was a bad idea…

Seokjin was always punctual, he prided himself on it, but tonight it made him nervous. He’d said 7 but it had only just gone quarter to. He couldn’t very well stay in the car for fifteen minutes, you’d spot him out the window, so ever so slowly he opened his car door and stepped out, his heart thudding against his ribcage. He was sure he noticed his hand shaking as he closed it behind him. He was such a mess it was embarrassing.

You lived in a nice little neighbourhood, it seemed quiet, and he admired your pots of flowers in the patch of garden you had as he made his way up the path that led to your front door. He took a deep breath before ringing the doorbell, adjusting his suit jacket as he waited for you to open up. It’s fine, Seokjin, he told himself. It’s just dinner. You’ve done much scarier things in your life. Pull yourself together, man.

A few seconds later the door opened in front of him and you came into view, looking as beautiful as ever. I’m fucked, he thought immediately.

“Hi,“ he forced himself to say as he smiled. He was probably staring but he couldn’t help himself. You looked stunning, your dress deep red in colour and incredibly flattering. His throat felt dry and he swallowed quickly.

“Hey,” you greeted back.

“You look beautiful,“ he couldn’t help but awe, hoping he wasn’t stepping out of line with his compliment.

"Thank you,” you smiled almost shyly. It was adorable. “You look…really good.“

He couldn’t help but burst out laughing at that, aware the sound was probably highly unfaltering, but he couldn’t help it. "I’ll take it. Thanks.” He tilted his head to the right then, composing himself. “Are you ready to go? I’m a bit early, I know. Sorry about that."

He really couldn’t tear himself away from your beauty, but luckily you didn’t seem to notice, busy nodding as you clutched your purse to your side. "I, uh… I would invite you in to kill time but my best friend’s embarrassing.” Your voice raised as you continued, your head turning slightly down the hallway.

He raised an eyebrow, a little confused, but he guessed said best friend was in the house somewhere? He smiled and shook his head. “It’s fine.”

As you stepped forward, a breath of a chuckle slipping from your throat, he moved to the side, outstretching his arm to let you lead the way. You accepted with a brief nod of your head, your gazes catching for a split second. God, you were gorgeous.

His nerves might have eased a tad, but his heart was still beating just as fast – if not more.

Written 2020 - 2021. Please refrain from posting my work elsewhere. No translations allowed. © floralseokjin 2021

#seokjin fanfic #bts fanfic #mls:drabbles #fic:mls #floralseokjin:writings

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yandere-mha-blog · 3 years ago

Text

Chapter 2

Words:2098

Warning: unwanted touching near the end

Katsuki didn't say much and you didn't put in much work to make conversation with him, the two of you kept walking till you made it to the train station, meaning you two would have to split here.

“You gonna be able to make it home without freezing to death,” he said

“I'm sure I'll manage, thanks for taking me this far,” you said, just because he was rude didn't mean you had to be and you got on the train, you held onto the handle above your head, still maybe it was the awkward silence that was distracting you, but how did he know this was the train station you looked an how he knew the way here, he did seem to be leading the way, but maybe it was just an educated guess, still was a bit odd.

Katsuki finally arrived home and reached into your bag and pulled out your umbrella, you were really easy to snatch from, good for him but bad for you. Still, he was a bit pissed off at himself, he finally managed to get you two alone and he couldn't even say one thing, all he managed to do was insult you, tomorrow was midweek and he was running out of time, still one thing he was happy about was the fact you had the return address on your umbrella, so of course he looked it up on google maps, and man it was a commoner place. Well since he got what he wanted, what would be the best way to give you your umbrella back.

Wednesday, oh Wednesday how you loved and hated this day, the weekend so close yet so far away, altho you hated Thursdays more, like why couldn't it just be Friday already. Still running late to school as usual, and luckily no one had messed with your locker today, you entered the class and saw your umbrella on your desk, oh how nice of whoever took it.

“Late again,” Bakugou said, you rolled your eyes and put your umbrella back in your bag

“Yes late again, Bakugou, also did you happen to see who left this here?” you asked

“Nope, It was here when I came in,” Katsuki said, ah as useful as ever, still, Bakugou stopped his taunting after that, history the last class of the day, and your teacher put up the words group assignment

“Ohh come on.” The class gored

“Well, it was either a quick group project or school work over the break I can change it if you like.” “No thanks.”

“Okay, the first row looks behind you, that is your partner, the third row looks behind you and this is your partner, the fifth row looks behind and that is your partner.” The teacher said

Oh great, just great you were in the fourth row so seeing Bakugou's red eyes on you, just great you had to spend more time with your classmates. How fun.

“Don't ask to switch partners either, we will present on Friday so you have today and tomorrow to work on it, you will choose an artifact from japan and make a two-slide PowerPoint on it.”

Didn't sound too bad. You could knock that out by yourself quickly, so why did you have to pair up with someone?

“Okay, now those who didn't turn their head come up and choose from the hat this will be your artifact.” The teacher said and you went up and pulled a piece of paper out and went back to your desk, Katsuki had already turned to face your desk as you unfolded the paper and the words Kokeshi Doll was writing across it.

“Lame couldn’t you have gotten anything more interesting,” Katsuki said

“Next time I'll ask the gods, okay,” you said

“Well look, I don't want you making a half-assed presentation.”

“None of my work is half-assed.” you said

“Says the one who got 24th place,” Katsuki said, how the hell did he know that, ugh whatever you just wanted to get this done as soon as possible.

“Look, I want a good grade as well, and I don't want to do all the work either.” You said, “Look, I think I might actually have a Kokeshi Doll.”

“Really now, great if we bring in maybe we will get some extra points.” Katsuki said, “Let's work at your place after school and try to get this done.”

“Fine,” you said, and as the bell rang you and Bakugo headed out you went to your shoe locker and found Classes 2-E frog again, you were getting pretty sick and tired of this, one of the students from the class was walking up, you handed the frog over again and sighed.

“Why don't you just beat the guys up who did this, you know who is doing this,” Bakugou said

“With my noodle arms I don't think so,” you said putting your shoes on and heading out Bakugou following behind you, taking the train home and finally arriving outside your house, you opened the door and Katsuki took his shoes off.

“Where are your parents?” He asked

“In the Chugoku prefecture.” you said, “My grandpa got sick so they are taking care of him.”

“Any idea when they get back?” Katsuki asked

“When he keels over,” you said walking down the hallway and opening your room door, Katsuki awkwardly went in, before going under the kotatsu and pulling his laptop out of his school bag

“Stay here, I'm going to go find the doll,” you said

“Fine,” Katsuki said pulling up the PowerPoint format, still what a dream come true, in his crushes room, kinda plan not a lot going on, well he did see a tray full of chapstick, you wouldn't notice if one was missing right, so he took one and stuffed it in his pocket, a couple of minutes later you walked in with the doll.

“Knew I had one,” you said grabbing your laptop from your desk, share the document with me.

“I will,” Bakugou said, man, talk about a letdown, finally in his crushes room and she isn't saying anything except this article could come in handy

“I'm thirsty, do you want anything?” you asked getting up

“Just water,” Katsuki said as you left and he set his head on your bed, ugh he was getting tired, he really wished his head would let him sleep at night but no, so now he is so tired, still, your bed smelt nice, it figures he did like the perfume you wore, he looked over once again to your desk and saw a bottle of perfume, he typed the name down in his phone as you came back in with water

“Bakugou if you are tired we can always continue this tomorrow.” you said” it is almost 6”

“I should head home,” Katsuki said getting up and putting his laptop in his bag, he chugged down the water and you showed him the door, and he left.

He stopped by a perfume shop on the way home asking if they had the brand he wrote down, they did, so of course, he bought it

“Your girlfriend is going to enjoy this.” the employer said “getting her a gift for Christmas.”

“Yeah...girlfriend,” Katsuki said before leaving, his lips were getting chapped so might as well use the chapstick he took, mango strawberry flavor huh interesting.

When he got home he opened the shared document and saw you were still working on it, might as well work on it as well before a text message came up

“Go to bed you looked exhausted when you left.”

“Don't tell me what to do.” Katsuki typed back but he was trying to be nice, to get you to like him so he deleted that and typed “Fine”

And he turned off his visibility and watched the presentation slowly getting put together. Once you had logged off, he then got to work and finished it, a job well done. He took the perfume bottle he bought and sprayed it on his pillow, sure it was a bit weird and any guy would laugh if they saw this, but no one was here to judge him so he just tried to get some sleep.

Katsuki saw you once again get to class late, tomorrow was Christmas eve, he was going to ask he had to ask you soon

“You are once again getting to class by the bell,” Katsuki said

“I really don't care at this point, Bakugou,” you replied, you then smelled your sleeve

“What are you doing?” Bakugou asked

“I think I put on too much perfume this morning,” you said

“I don't smell it,” Bakugou said

“Also Bakugou I thought I told you to go to bed, but I saw the PowerPoint was already completed,” you said

“Couldn't sleep and I wanted to get it done, besides we need to review it anyway and practice the presentation anyway.” He replied, and you sighed as you took your pencil case out, he grabbed it off your desk once again.

“Do you mind?” you said

“Not really, I still don't know why you have all this girly stuff, you don't seem like the type,” Katsuki said

“Look, take your backhanded insults and put them away.” you said “I'm allowed to like what I want, now hand it back.”

“Fine you are no fun,” Bakugou said, but truth be told you were tons of fun to mess with, your reactions always made him smile, in his head that is, he never smiled on to outside, and if anything he saw your girly side as really endearing, even yesterday when you told him to go home, you were worried since he looked so tired, you were a nice person but a little rough around the edged like him, altho he was a lot rougher around the edges. Maybe that is why he fell for you, sure the first year of high school he was a bit of a bully, it died out in the second year when his parents got on his case and how they would always be there to cover up his violent temper. Still, for some reason you still talked and replied to him, you didn't seem scared of him either.

He just started to notice you more, but him being as stubborn as he was, couldn't bring himself to do the whole nice guy who bends over backward to impress a girl to hope to get a date with them, only to turn rude when she turns him down, no that wasn't him. He had to win you over with his personality front and center. He wasn't about to put up a front to get you to be his, you had to fall for him.

Altho maybe keep the whole tiny collection of your things a secret.

Still, one thing was bothering him, those guys yesterday put the frog back in your locker, even though he told them that if they did he would rearrange their faces if they did, some people learn through experience he guessed.

He was glad he was able to come over one more time, he had to ask you today, he wouldn't get another chance, even brushing shoulders next to you on the train made him happy, you minding your own business when all of sudden Bakugou notice your eyes widen in shock, what was that about, he looked behind you and saw some man had put his hand on the back of your thigh.

One thing Katsuki hated even as a child was when other people touched his stuff, that little habit persisted till he older teens, so he was seeing red when he grabbed the man's wrist and pulled it off him, except he kept squeeze and squeezing

“If you yell then everyone on this train will know what you were doing.” Katsuki said to the man “so listen, get off at the next train stop.”

The man looked like he wanted to scream out in immense pain as Katsuki kept crushing his hands, for a 17-year-old he was pretty strong, and when the train stopped the man ran out. Katsuki secretly hoped he broke something.

“Thanks.” you said to him, Great he didn't scare you off, and once the two of you got off the train you said again “really, thank you for that.”

“Whatever, I just hate men like that,” Katsuki said, more like he hated any man that came near you but putting that aside he was telling the truth.

#katsuki bakugou #yandere katsuki bakugou #yandere katsuki bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo #yandere katsuki bakugo #yandere katsuki bakugo x reader #yandere katsuki #yandere katsuki x reader #yandere bakugo #yandere bakugou #yandere my hero academia #yandere boku no hero academia

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britswriting · 2 years ago

Text

Desire (24)

Desire Masterlist

Read on Wattpad

Halfass edited because it's late, I'm tired, and you guys have already waited long enough lol

*Colby's POV*

"I literally put her address in Google Maps, how the fuck are we lost?" Sam griped, flipping his blinker on.

"We aren't lost, we're just taking the scenic route" I joked and he wasn't having it.

I guess he didn't want to be lost in Minnesota at 2pm.

"It's rerouting" I informed him, holding the phone out. "Take the next two lefts" I directed, hoping we could find the way to her house.

We eventually found our way into Leighton's driveway, Sam letting out a breath of relief.

"What if this is a sign for the trip?" Sam worried aloud, turning his neck to look at me, his forehead wrinkled.

"Don't jinx us! We've only been here once. It's been what, a year? We found it in the end. Now come on! I got people to hug and kiss in there!" I exclaimed, throwing the door open after quickly unbuckling my seat belt.

I couldn't contain my excitement for this trip.

I practically tripped getting out of the car, wanting to get to the front door quicker than my feet could carry me.

"Colby!" Sam called out right as I rang the doorbell.

I instantly heard dogs barking, a stupid smile on my face as I waited.

The front door opened, and instead of being met with Leighton, I was met with her Uncle.

"Oh uh.." I stuttered, surprised that he was the one who answered.

"Well don't stand out here looking like a fool, come in! Leigh is finishing up her notes" Uncle Garret widened the door, letting Sam and I in.

I made my way to her room, slowly opening the closed bedroom door.

I don't know what I was expecting, but seeing Gabe wouldn't have been my first guess.

"Um" I spoke, extremely confused.

Wasn't he in New York?

"Colby!" Leighton exclaimed, quickly walking over to me to hug me.

"Hey.. what's he doing here?" I asked quietly, feeling his eyes burn a hole into the back of my head.

"Oh! Gabe is watching Gemma. He's on summer break now, so whilst I'm away with you guys, he'll be with Gem. That way we don't have a cranky baby on the flight, and he gets to spend time with her" She explained and I nodded slowly.

"Okay.." I trailed off, having so much to say, but I didn't want to argue in front of him. "Can I see G?" I asked and Leigh frowned.

"I'm sorry... Melissa and Lincoln took her to the park down the road for a bit. They wanted to try and push her on the swings" She explained and I nodded, feeling extremely awkward.

I excused myself, leaving the room to clear my head.

"Hey Captain" I smiled, sitting down in the hallway and giving him a rub down. "I've missed you buddy"

I sat with Captain for a minute until I heard a throat clear, making me look up.

"What's wrong?" She asked and I shook my head.

"Nothing's wrong. I'm just confused. That's all"

"Confused? About what?"

"I didn't know you were leaving Gemma behind"

"Huh? I told you about our nightmare flight. I don't want to do that on the flight to Italy. We'll have our hands full as it is. Plus, Gabe hasn't been able to see her in so long. Are you mad that she's staying here?" Leigh asked, her arms crossed over her chest, towering over me.

"I was just.. you know what, no. It's fine. It doesn't matter" I shook my head, feeling stupid.

I stood up, ready to walk back to the main room, only for her to grab my arm.

"It's what? Talk to me Colby"

"No, it's stupid"

"Colby" She warned and I sighed, turning around.

"I want to be a family, Leighton. I wanted to do this with her. I.. nevermind" I groaned, watching the surprise mask her facial features.

I need to shut up and nod along with her plans.

Get over yourself Colby.

"Colby!" She called after me, but I walked to the patio door, sliding it open and stepping out.

"Colby" She said softly, sitting down next to me on the concrete.

"Stop Leigh, I'm fine"

"You're not fine. You're upset. I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I figured it wasn't that important. After all, I was concerned about it to begin with.. it worked out well with Gabe though"

I nodded, staying quiet.

I felt so stupid.

I truly was an idiot.

"Can you please tell me why you're upset?" She asked and I mentally groaned.

"It's stupid"

"Your feelings aren't stupid to me Colby"

I sighed, glancing away from me.

"I wanted to take her to Italy. Even if she can't remember it. I want her to meet your grandparents.. I want those memories. I want to do things for her. To take her places. This is something I can give her for once.. and who knows when I'll go back. You're Italian Leighton, and so is she. It's her heritage. I just... I wanted to explore the world with her" I explained, feeling pathetic.

This was so stupid.

"Okay.. I'm sorry that I didn't know that was your intention.. but Colby.. He's her father. He has the right to spend time with her. She hated just the 3 hour direct flight from LAX to Minneapolis.. I can't imagine taking her on different planes tomorrow all the way to Italy. It was hard on me, and it was hard on her. She's finally getting used to this place as her home.. I don't want to tear her away to another country" She explained and I nodded, running my hands over my head.

"I said it was stupid" I muttered and Leighton sighed, resting the palm of her hand on my left shoulder blade.

"It isn't stupid Colby. It was an incredibly sweet gesture. I would also love to do all those things.. but baby, I think she needs to be a little older. One, she will be able to remember it if we ever go again.. and two, flying with her would be easier"

"But what about your grandparents?" I asked, turning to look at her.

"Like you said, they're Italian and Swedish. They're not going anywhere" She laughed, myself chuckling slightly with her.

"Sorry for being dramatic" I apologized and she shook her head, leaning her head on my shoulder.

"Don't be sorry. I should've talked to you and Sam about it. I'm sorry I didn't communicate my plans" She said, pressing a soft kiss under my jaw.

"I understand why.. I'm just disappointed" I voiced and she nodded against my shoulder before leaning back up.

"I'm sorry" She repeated and I sighed.

"I know"

"Are you mad at me?" She asked and I shook my head. "Well... I'd like to say thank you for coming. I know it's a pain in the ass to add an extra flight to our list, but I do appreciate it" She said, her hand resting on my knee.

"Of course. I'd do anything for you, you know that"

I heard her let out a deep breath, forcing me to look over at her.

"What?" I laughed, Leighton looking like she was about to get lost in her thoughts.

"Nothing. Are you coming in?" She asked and I nodded, getting up and then offering a hand to help her up.

"I swear to god if you drop me!" She warned.

"I won't drop you!" I laughed, keeping my hand held out.

She grabbed it and I started to pull her up, but to tease her, I slightly let her fall back down and cackled when her eyes got wide.

"COLBY!" She yelled once she was on her feet.

"What? It was funny" I chuckled and she flipped me off. "Hey now, Nuhuh" I shook my head, grabbing her wrist to pull her into me, her hands trapped between my chest.

"Colby!" She whined, annoyed that I had her trapped.

"Don't be mad" I warned and she kept her eyes narrowed. I pucker my lips down towards her, trying to hold back a laugh as she kept her death glare.

"I'm waiting" I mumbled and she rolled her eyes, leaning up to kiss me.

She kissed me softly before pulling away.

"Better" I smirked and she smacked my chest.

"You're annoying" Leighton grumbled and I grinned, knowing I won.

"But you keep me around! Now, we have a bag to pack to make sure you're ready for Italy!" I cheered, pulling her behind me.

"She's getting so big" I groaned, picking Gemma up off the ground.

"She's six months old, what did you expect?" Leigh laughed, dropping her carry on bag down by her feet.

"Damn, six months already? It feels like just yesterday we were in the hospital and she was about to be born" I said, Gemma wiggling out of my grasp. "Rude" I teased, setting her down so she could reach her toys.

"I mean, yeah.. but she's starting to sleep better, so I don't really miss it. Newborns are hard" Leigh reminded.

"Is she still clingy?" I asked, and Leighton nodded.

"Which should be interesting considering I'm going to be gone for like two weeks, so she'll be with Gabe. Hopefully it goes well"

"It's not too late to take her with" I reminded her, Leigh giving me a look. "Alright, fine. I'll drop it"

"Thank you. Now, where did Sam go? We gotta get going soon"

"He went to the bathroom I think"

"Katrina is meeting us at the next airport right?" Leighton asked and I nodded.

"Yeah, then we'll leave together. We got a long trip ahead of us. It's so annoying that there aren't any direct flights"

"I'm nervous to leave her behind.. but it'll be okay. She'll be okay. It's easier to have her here — home, with people she knows, then on a long as fuck flight across the world..." She tried to convince herself.

I sighed, wishing we could just scoop her up and bring her with us.

"We'll be back before you know it. Don't worry. Plus... like you said, she'll get to hang out with Gabe" I reminded her and she nodded slowly, almost seeming apprehensive.

"What if something happens? He hasn't had to actually take care of her hands-on in what.. four? Five months?" She worried.

"It's not like you're leaving her alone with him. She'll be here with your family. You know I also want her to come.. but you thought this through, so it'll be okay"

"But what if it's not?"

"Then I will personally pay for your flight home. I get it's scary, but we can't control the future. You said you talked to him about her schedule and such, so we should be good"

"Ugh! It's just scary! The most I've be away from her was rehab, and even then you brought her on Fridays"

"It's the same length as rehab Leigh" I reminded her and she groaned.

"I know! It's the fact that I'm out of the country!" She whined, her voice cracking at the end.

I picked up G and walked over to the emotionally crumbled Leighton.

"G, can you give mommy a hug?" I asked her, offering Leighton her daughter.

Thankfully Gemma was quite clingy, so immediately she reached out for her mother.

"Oh sweet girl" Leighton sighed, snuggling her closer. "It's scary to be a parent" She spoke softly, her teary eyes looking up at me.

I sighed and sat down in front of her on the floor, careful not to jab the corner of the coffee table into my back.

"Remember how you talked about not being able to love her? How being attached was scary?" I asked and Leighton nodded. "I think this is love. I think you're feeling this because you love her" I said, my heart starting to beat quicker.

"Hey guys, are we eating before we go or picking up something?" Sam asked, entering the living room. "Oh shit — what's going on?" He asked, reading the room.

"Leighton's nervous to leave Gemma behind" I filled him in and his mouth made the "Oh" facial expression, before moving to stand in front of her. "And she said parenting was scary and I talked about how what she's probably feeling is love" I explained.

"Isn't that a good thing? You were nervous that wouldn't happen" Sam asked, my heart melting at the sight of Gemma chewing on her hand and snuggling into Leighton.

She stayed quiet, her hand rubbing up and down Gemma's back in a soothing manner.

"Remember when you brought up adoption?" Sam asked, catching me off guard.

Where was he going with this?

"And I know you were mad that we — sorry, I, talked you out of it.. but Leigh, this is why. You talked about being scared to be attached because you weren't ready and all that jazz.. but look. You're figuring it out. You moved, you have a job, she has a home.. and now you're feeling the parental attachment of not wanting anything to happen to her. I may not have my own child.. but I had faith in you. I knew you could do it. I've never once doubted you, and your love for her, even if you did" Sam told her, never breaking eye contact. "You've been an amazing mother, Leighton. Even with your ups and downs.. look at her. She's not only growing up and becoming more or a human... but you've always kept her safe, and happy. Even with your addictions, look at where you guys are now" He motioned his hands in a way to look around.

"Leaving her feels so scary.. and I just like.. I remember sitting in my hospital room and looking at the empty bassinet and thinking about what it would be like if I did put her up for adoption.. and I kind of feel like that again. It's almost like remorse of like.. I really wanted to do that.. and now I'm sitting here.. and I don't want to let her go" She confessed and I felt my heart clenched in sympathy for her.

"It's two weeks Leigh" I reminded her and she sighed, pressing a soft kiss against Gemma's head.

"I know, I just.. I left her with you, you know? I... I trusted you. I knew she was going to be fine"

"You don't trust Gabe?" Sam asked and Leigh let out a deep exhale.

"It's not that.. It's just — Colby was there all the time. He not only watched, but helped. Even you and Kat have been around more than he has. It's not that I think something will happen.. it's just.. a lot can change in four or five months. I don't care for her the same way I did when she was a newborn" She explained and I nodded, understanding where she was coming from. "Anyway, I'll stop being a little bitch. She'll be fine"

"You're not being a little bitch Leigh. It's perfectly normal to be worried. Don't short change yourself though. You're acting like any mother with a baby would" Sam told her.

"I am a pathetic little bitch, but thanks" She chuckled, cradling her daughter against her. "You know what's annoying though?" She asked, and I hummed in response, the same time Sam said "What?"

"I'm still breast feeding, meaning I have to pack the stupid pump and I have to dump the breast milk because I can't save that"

"Oh shit" I replied, realizing she was right.

I didn't think about that.

"Love having to pump and dump. I have such good memories with that" She replied sarcastically. "Anyway, I need to pump before we leave and toss it in the freezer, and then I'm ready. To answer Sam, we could make something before we leave since I have pump anyway"

"Look G, it's dada!" Leigh pointed towards Gabe.

"Come here baby girl" He called for her, sitting about 3 feet away from me.

"Has she pushed herself up onto her knees yet?" Sam asked and Leigh shook her head.

"Not that I'm aware of, but she's been rolling around pretty good. I swear if she crawls for the first time when I'm gone-" Leigh threatened.

"What if we just like.. put her on her knees?" I suggested, wanting to see Gemma crawl.

"I doubt that will work" Sam laughed, taking a seat on the carpet.

"Hey, it's worth a try. Hand me the baby" I held my hands out for Gemma.

"Gemma, go get Colby" Leigh encouraged, pointing at me.

"Come on G! You can do it!" I also encouraged, reaching my arms out for her.

"Isn't like the signs of her being on her knees and rocking or whatever?" Sam asked and Leigh nodded.

"Yeah, it like shows interest or something"

"What are you hooligans doing?" Uncle Garret asked, walking into the room.

"Tryna get G to crawl"

"Oh god, don't do that" Uncle Garret warned, a few of us chuckling, asking why. "Because once they start crawling we're all fucked. At least I know that if I set her somewhere, she'll still be there. Even with her rolling over, she's not smart enough to leave the room" He explained, shaking his head at us.

"What?" Leigh laughed, clearly finding his playful negative reaction amusing.

"Crawling and running is like a gift from Satan. I'm glad she hasn't figured out how to climb out of her crib" He snickered.

"Oh god! You're right!" Leigh replied in a breathy tone, showing that she realized what he was talking about.

"Wait, what?" Gabe asked, clearly not following. "She can crawl out?" He asked and Uncle Garret nodded. "How?" he questioned, my eyes falling back onto Gemma who was trying to put a dog toy in her mouth.

"Hey!" I slightly yelled, catching her attention. "Don't put that in your mouth!" I pointed, a stuffed dog bone being clutched in her hand near her mouth.

"Gemma, you're not a dog" Leigh laughed, prying the toy out of Gemma's hand.

The second the clutched toy left her grasp, her face scrunched up and she started to cry.

"This drama queen" Leighton muttered, handing her a teething ring.

"Wait, what's with the crib thing?" Gabe asked, taking us back to the previous conversation.

Uncle Garret explained that it's easier for her to get into bad things, or to lose her once she's mobile and how kids reach a point where they start climbing out of the crib, informing him about lowering the mattress to make it harder.

"Don't encourage her to move. Her butt needs to stay seated" Leigh laughed, and Gemma rocked a bit whilst sitting, Leigh playfully reprimanding her.

"I promise Leigh, I got it. If I don't I can call you, or ask" Gabe reassured her, Leigh reluctantly handing over Gemma.

"I know.. she's just.. she's my baby" Leigh pouted.

"Two weeks Leigh. You've done it before" I reminded her and she nodded.

Somehow we got Leighton into the car and when I glanced in the rearview mirror, I could see her swipe her under eye.

"Leigh, it's going to be okay" I reminded again, Sam also now glancing in the rearview mirror.

The car ride to the airport was scarcely silent.

You could tell she was so far lost in her thoughts that there was no pulling her out of them.

Getting through MPS airport with her wasn't necessarily hard, she was just quiet.

Any question we asked, she either nodded, shook her head, or walked to go do it herself.

She was quiet the whole flight, and numbly walked off the airplane and started the process all over again.

On our second flight, I was sitting next to her, this time Leighton sitting next to the window.

"Hey? Are you alright?" I pressed, wishing I could get her to crack.

She nodded and I mentally groaned.

Maybe she was just tired.

"Are we meeting in your room or mine?" Sam asked, Kat standing tiredly next to him.

"Um.. we can meet here, in our room" I decided, Sam nodding and bidding us a goodnight, walking a few doors down.

I locked our hotel room door behind us and Leigh plopped down on one of the Queen sized beds.

"Are you alright?" I asked, kicking my shoes off and moving her suitcase out of my way.

"Just tired" She mumbled, crossing her arms over her face to hide from the light.

"Same. Let's get to bed, we got an early flight tomorrow. I'm sure you'll want to call Gabe as well before we're out of the country" I spoke to her, but she didn't reply.

I unpaid the empty bed, tugging my shirt over my head, fixing the band of my sweat pants before crawling in.

I reached over, turning off the bedside lamp, letting the room get dark.

"We're sleeping in different beds?" She mumbled, her face still covered even though we were in complete pitch black.

"Do you want to sleep in the same bed?" I asked, turning so I was facing the direction of her bed.

"I uh.. we don't have to" she muttered and I heard her shift around before yell out.

"OW! Motherfucker!"

"Are you okay?" I asked frantically, sitting upright now in the bed.

"Yeah" She grumbled, "I kicked a fucking suitcase"

"I'm sorry" I chuckled, "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine. I need to find my pump so I don't leak on the hotel beds" She muttered, flicking on the bathroom light.

"So sexy" I teased, watching her grab her pump.

"Do you care if I pump in front of you?" She asked, standing by my bed.

"What, like sitting in a chair staring at me?" I asked, laughing a little.

"No" She rolls her eyes, "I was asking if It was fine if I could lay in bed or if you wanted me to go into the bathroom"

"Leigh, it's perfectly natural. If you need to whip out a boob, who am I to stop you?" I grinned and she glared, her lips tugging upwards.

"Are we sleeping in different beds?" She asked and instead of answering, I moved the blanket, tapping the mattress.

Leigh crawled in, moving so she was leaning against the pillows.

"I'm not wearing a nursing bra.. I'm going to have to fully undress from the top half"

"Whatever works for you, when you're done, can you turn off the light please?" I asked and she nodded.

I got comfy and rolled over, closing my eyes as I heard her machine start.

"Sorry" She mumbled.

"It's fine" I replied back, pulling the comforter closer to my chest, snuggling in.

I felt myself start to be pulled into sleep, but was yanked right out as her hand touched my shoulder, startling me.

"Sorry.. I uh.. can we talk? I'm bored" She admitted and I sighed, rolling onto my back.

"What do you want to talk about?" I asked tiredly.

"I don't know.. do you think Gemma's okay?"

"I'm sure she's fine"

"You're annoyed with me"

"I'm not annoyed, just tired"

"You sound more annoyed than tired"

"If you keep pushing I'm going to be annoyed" I warned, squinting from the bathroom light, rolling back over.

"Sorry" She muttered, staying quiet.

I sighed, groaning slightly as I did a 180 to face her.

"What's wrong?" I asked, Leigh shaking her head. "Leighton"

"I'm just worried! It's scary leaving her alone! I was nervous with you — even though I trusted you. Did you know Gabe has a girlfriend? What if she comes over and they-"

"Leighton, he's at your Aunt and Uncle's house. I doubt his new girlfriend will be there" I reassured her, Leighton sighing loudly. I let out a frustrated breath, my eyes burning from how tired I was.

"They've apparently been together for a while" She started, and I stayed quiet, "She's apparently named Zara" She continued and my eyes popped open.

Shit.

"Oh uh.. that's nice" I replied half heartedly, my heart starting to beat a little quicker in my chest.

"What if G likes her more?" She asked and I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath.

Here we go.

"She doesn't even know her, Leigh" I reminded her, silently hating how long pumping takes.

"What if she grows up to hate me?" She asked, and this time I loudly groaned.

"Leigh, honey, I love you so much but you're worrying for nothing. I would love to lay here and ease all your worries.. but I'm dog-tired baby. Gemma loves you, and I'm sure she's doing okay with Gabe. You said earlier that you didn't have any messages about it. Trust him. You chose this for a reason, so believe in him"

"Sorry" She replied softly and I sighed, moving so my lips were near her knee, resting my chin on top of her knee.

"You don't need to apologize. I understand you're worried. We both wished things looked differently, but we have to trust that we're making the right choice. I'm sorry if I sound grumpy, but I'm very tired and I don't want us to fight because my half asleep brain says something stupid" I explained and she nodded. "Can I have a kiss?" I asked, keeping my eyes on her.

"I uh.. I'd like to kiss you, but I'm trapped by my boobs" She snickered.

"I guess I can make a bit more of an effort" I grinned, moving so I was sitting up.

I pucker my lips near hers, Leighton matching my motions.

I kissed her softly, letting both of us melt into it a little bit.

"I'm sorry" I whispered once I pulled away, my mouth near her ear. "I know this is scary, but we both know you were right with leaving her home. I promise she loves you, and I know you're worried, but it'll be okay" I said softly, placing a soft kiss against her cheek.

"I know, jut worried.. sorry. I need to go dump this" She sighed, taking the bottles off and moving to get out of bed.

"Have you ever tried it?" I asked, watching her make her way to the bathroom.

"I'm going to say this now, these both are going to be dumped down the sink" She gave me a look, holding the bottles up towards her collarbones, showing me the partly filled bottles.

I couldn't help but laugh, "I know! I was just asking" I chuckled, watching her disappear into the bathroom, hearing the running water.

There was a soft buzz from the air conditioner as she put the cleaned pump away before crawling into bed.

"My boobs hurt" She muttered, pulling the blanket up to her chest.

"I'm sorry" I chuckled, not sure how to reply.

"It's fine. Hopefully one day it will be worth it" She replied quietly, now laying next to me.

"It's not worth it already?" I asked, confused by how she couldn't already feel like this was all worth something.

"It is..." She trailed off, catching my attention.

"But?" I egged on, Leigh looking over at me.

"But I'm still not at a place where I feel like I did it. Like we got somewhere. Where I don't have to worry" She explained.

"Isn't something parents say that you're never done? You're always worried?" I asked and Leighton groaned.

"Who let me have a baby?" She whined and I laughed, pulling her into my arms, wrapping my arm securely around her waist.

"If it's worth anything, you made a damn cute kid" I told her, nuzzling into the crook of her neck.

"Thanks" She giggled, scrunching her shoulder to her cheek as I kissed her neck. "Colby!" She cried, giggling as my lips tickled her neck.

"Hm?" I hummed, her shoulder resting against my jaw.

"We can't! We have to get up early and call Gabe and then fly to Italy"

"Nothing kills a boner faster than the person your dating ex boyfriend's name" I huffed, pulling out of her neck and rolling back to my own side of the bed.

"I'm sorry" She giggled, snuggling back into my side.

"You're right though, we need to go to bed before Sam kicks our asses"

"Yeah.. thanks for today by the way" She murmured, kissing my rib cage since that's where she could reach.

"It's gonna be alright. Let's worry less about Gabe fucking up, and more about exploring Italy together. After all, I'm terrified to meet your grandparents" I chuckled, turning to look down at her.

"What? Why" She laughed, our eyes meeting as she looked up.

"Your grandfather is Italian and your grandmother is Swedish! What do you mean why?! Not to mention, your dad told me that he and your grandparents don't get along"

"Don't listen to him. It's gonna be fine! I mean, my Nonno might give you a hard time, maybe cross a line or two... but he's just protective and a little hard headed. Don't take it personally. At the end of the day, I'm flying back home with you" She reminded me and I nodded, "After all, if he says anything truly hurtful, it'll probably be in Italian, so you won't hear it anyway" She joked and I glared, shaking my head as my chest shook from the quiet chuckle leaving my lips.

"Great" I joked and she grinned her hand reaching up to cup my cheek.

"You'll be fine. Now let's hit the hay before Sam really does come in here and give us hell to pay"

* * * *

Was indecisive about posting this one... but I figured more is better than less.. so..

Written on: September 8th, 9th, 14th 2022

Word Count: 4.8k

Part Twenty Five

#colbybrock #colbybrockfanfiction #samandcolby #samandcolbyfanfiction #colbybrockfanfic #colbybrockimagine #colbybrockoneshot #colbybrockwattpad #samandcolbywattpad #samandcolbywriting #colbybrockwriting

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lysershine · 4 years ago

Text

@willwoodimagines lore timeline (what is my life)

So firstly, a fuckin massive thank you to @hotsinglelemonsinyourarea because I cannot do this shit alone and he’s helped me compile all of their old posts because I, apparently, underestimated how long they’ve been doing this. So from this point forward, I’m assuming nothing is a joke. Here we go!!

I am so sorry. Let’s do this.

So earliest posts that are likely lore come from around April the 9th. This post is a conversation seemingly between Three and One where Two is gone on a road trip, -- although it might not Actually Be A Road Trip, -- and then One tells everyone to stop acting like Two is dead, because he’s not. Which, fair enough, although later in the conversation, Two replies and seems to invent that he’s at the beach, probably to calm down the people speculating about his whereabouts. I am Anything But Calm.

There’s also this post, presumably from One or Three but it’s hard to tell cuz Three didn’t start signing posts until much later and they type pretty similarly, where they tell us we should be grateful for them feeding us and keeping us warm, and it’s tagged with ‘#I wish I was warm.’

So here’s where stuff gets very interesting! Backstory, people! In this post, we start to see some pieces put together. The imagine reads:

IMAGINE: Will Wood invites you into his home for an exclusive performance of I/Me/Myself. You are so excited! But then, he asks you to come down into his wine cellar, explaining that his keyboard is down there. You go down there hesitantly. You don’t realize for several minutes that he did not follow you down here. The only things here are a laptop and a sticky note with the words “POST IMAGINES” written in sharpie. You are so afraid and attempt to leave the way you came in but the door is gone. You are trapped. It is so cold and you just want to see your family again.

So that’s horrifying!! But it gives us insight into how the mods were probably captured and why they’re running this blog. It’s a great blog. 10/10, doesn’t make me solve codes. Oh wait.

After that post, -- which I am assuming comes from Three, -- we’re treated to a bunch of morse code that the wonderful Nigel was kind enough to translate for me:

They then added in a reblog, “It seems I have made a typo! I meant mod 1 won’t let me speak, I am mod 3.” So, it seems like One is trying to quiet any cries for help.

This is shortly thereafter followed by this post from the 11th, and to quote directly, it says:

IMAGINE: Inside of the cellar basemeant, there is a suit. It is tempting but Weill said you are not allowed to touch. YOu know you want to. Touch it. he is guarding it. he is hiding something. follow for more will woof imagines.

So that’s riddled with typos, and if you stick them all together you just get eeOf so I’m gonna assume that all this means is that this post is courtesy of Two. There’s also a skeleton circled so maybe Will has previous victims or something? Who knows.

On the 12th, we have a couple posts, one about being in Will’s basement and watching him cosplay the onceler, another about Will being vaguely inhuman. Don’t know how important that is but I’m gonna make note of it anyway, because Will being inhuman especially might make sense for some stuff.

The next seemingly important post is this one:

So this one is probably about Two, my evidence being this post and the fact that, following this, Two gets significantly worse at spelling and more confused about what’s going on with their captivity. My best guess is that Two gets in trouble either for the lack of imagines OR they did touch the suit from that earlier imagine and now they know something that they shouldn’t. Either way, Will takes him away and brainwashes??? Lobotomizes??? Bite of ‘87s???? Idk???? I’m gonna go with lobotomy, it seems the most accurate to Two’s behavior from here on out, I really have no idea but he comes back Very Different. And in the tags it says ‘Laplace’s Angel 2:14!’ and the line at that time is “Somebody, help me!” so you know, pretty straightforward cry for help.

Though it makes me think that in the cellar, they are probably limited to interaction with only things directly connected to Will Wood, which is why “as a treat” they watch the documentary and they communicate with his music like this. They’re not allowed any media other than his.

Anyway, here’s an important note: From this point forward, Two is an unreliable narrator. Everything he says from here on out should be taken with a pillar of salt. (H.A.L.T., it’s not my fault!)

So with that in mind, the next post of importance is this one, a conversation that goes Three, One, and then Two. Two says Will let them watch the documentary as a treat, One tells them to stop making it seem like Will is holding them captive, and Three just says “movee :-)”. Which, fair enough.

The next posts that are worth noting are this one, where Three simply says “mental anguish” and One shuts them down saying that no one on the blog is experiencing that, and threatens them in the tags, and then this one where someone is being silenced.

There’s this post, which in the website version of their blog links to itself, I don’t know how or why or if that matters but if someone figures something out with that, please let me know. There’s also this imagine, which is about bodyswapping with Will -- storywise, I don’t think this is something that really happens, -- but it’s tagged with ‘#I miss my family.’ So that’s Not Good.

There’s some posts in between solidifying that despite this wackiness, the mods are indeed still friends. And then we go straight back into absolute horror with this post:

And so evidently they are Less Than Okay and probably being held captive by Will Wood. It’s immediately followed by this morse code, presumably from Three because he seems to use morse where One uses binary, and when deciphered, it reads: “I am blinking. Hear my cry.” Three’s post is then followed by One trying to shush them once more, saying:

“[W]e at Willwoodimagines would like to apologize for last night. We might have, perhaps, made it seem as if we are being held in a wine cellar against our Will (Wood), and that some of us have been down here for six years, and that we may miss our families, but I, Mod 1, would like to remind you that we are fine and need no help! Cheers!:) #We are NOT blinking. At all. #Not at all. No blinking from us! Blinking? Aha! Not at all.”

So what can be gathered from this is that they’re absolutely being held in Will Wood’s wine cellar, and some of them have been there for six years, and they miss their families, are NOT fine, definitely need help, and are CERTAINLY blinking. Also the random bolded letters spell “help” again.

Then there’s this post, which Nigel translated for me (ty man ily):

We also have this crudely-drawn map from Two, but it doesn’t seem to be related to anything. Anyway, the address is totally garbled, yep, but nonetheless if you put it into Google you get the address for a relatively poorly-rated landfill in New Jersey:

So clearly someone picked up on that, because then we have an ask from an anon who wants to know what the recycling situation is where they are being held. One seems very confused by this question, and Two pipes in saying that have a trashcan. Their confusion would make me assume this is the wrong address, but I don’t actually have to assume, because One(?) confirms it later with this post containing binary that can be translated to read:

“oh god the address was wrong i don't know where we fucking are help“

So you know, concerning! This is immediately followed by another ask, this one in binary. The conversation goes:

“Are you good?” “Absolutely not”

Which kinda speaks for itself. There’s also a quiz they made and I took it to see if there was any lore and uh apparently I’m most like One, so that’s poggers, I think? Idk there wasn’t any lore though. There is this post where Three says that Two’s favorite song isn’t a Will Wood song, and One threatens to knock them the fuck out, and I’m adding this as a point to my theory that they’re unallowed to consume media unrelated to WW. They make up though, so it’s fine.

It gets more quiet and more confusing for a while, Three saying “wake up” and this post being tagged with ‘#I’m cold and I am afraid.’ Two leaves again, Three goes quiet cuz they’re having a rough time, Two hates being smol-bean-ified and is behind held below One and Three, who seem to be in the same room? They’re also all starving, and Three could be an arsonist if you let them out.

Blah blah, they called me out and I cried about it, and NOW we’ve reached the 100-follower-special. Thank fuck.

Three posts this, it leads to binary, and that binary says:

“Listen carefully. The video that Will (Wood) be posted is extremely important. Do not skip it.“

This is immediately followed by this video of Two sprinting through the woods, presumably to freedom, if you read the tags. Three follows that with another post, saying “It has begun.” One shuts them down again in this post, but it links to binary that says:

“hello? can you read this? mod 2 is free! and hopefully will be coming back for us both. you all did absolutely nothing to help so i'm not thanking you for this. however i am thanking you for following us all! you've given us moral support thank you, mod 1“

As I’ve said earlier, I’m fairly certain that their captor is Will and he has access to this tumblr, which is why One especially is trying to be quiet about this. Like in this post where they apologize for the insanity on the blog, which links to binary, and it reads:

“we’re not in ddlc. i am not monika. listen to me closely. mod 3 and i are still stuck here. we have been posting cries for help for weeks. go look for them! they’re like easter eggs. just for you! thank you, mod 1“

DO I LOOK LIKE I’M COLLECTING EGGS YET??? DO I??????? Anyway, I got named the official lore account so now I’m fucking trapped here, and then we get some posts about how Two has made it to a McDonald’s.

Then One posts yet another apology, with two links. Link one directs you to a groupchat between the three mods, detailing Two’s escape and everyone’s very odd adoration for fast food. But then again, Three says they’ve been eating slop for a while, so. Fair enough. To bring back my old commentary about this, though; in this conversation there seems to be a bit of confusion over who exactly put them in the cellar where they’re captured, but as we saw earlier it was indeed Will Wood himself who is keeping them prisoner. However, Two also asserts that very soon he will be able to save One and Three, apparently with the help of Will? So there are two possibilities here:

1. Two is still an unreliable narrator, so it’s a possibility that his lobotomy or whatever has ruined his ability to perceive threats and he is being tricked by Will, who is indeed their captor, and will get thrown back in the cellar with the other two.

2. Something bigger than Will is controlling the situation. It makes no sense that all three mods would remember Will putting them in the cellar if he didn’t. So someone else could be controlling Will, I don’t know. They allude to a person from the documentary and initially I assumed it was Will but I actually haven’t seen the movie (shock and horror, I know, I’m sorry), so maybe it’s someone else and that’s the piece of the puzzle I’m missing? Idk, if you’ve made it this far and you’ve seen the documentary, check the conversation and let me know.

Link two leads to binary, and when translated it becomes:

“i do think it’s less endearing and more terrifying how people on a blogging website care more about my freedom than my own friends and family did i dont need to sign this. you know who it’s from“

Which, maybe, but I love ARGs and Nigel and I are already incredibly invested so whoops. Besides, who’s gonna do it if we don’t?

Anyway!!! I sent an ask in response to some of my confusion for the groupchat, and because One said to keep sending messages. One responded, and I was redirected to even more binary because of course! This time it says:

“THANK YOU FOR ASKING MOD 2 SAID THAT HE HAS INTERACTED WITH WILL. SO I DO NOT THINK WE ARE BEING HELD BY WILL HIMSELF. I BELIEVE MOD 3 KNOWS BUT WHEN I ASKED AGAIN HE JUST TOLD ME THAT IT WAS THE GUY FROM THE MOVIE. THIS WAS NOT VERY HELPFUL THANKS MOD 1 P.S. THIS IS IN ALL CAPS BECAUSE I'M VERY EXCITED!!”

Then there were two posts in quick succession, the first one was a new puzzle type! Morse code! And grandma taught me that, so I can tell you it says:

“I think we posted an address once but it was wrong and we got caught doing it. I didn’t like that day. This entire computer has safety settings on it so I can’t just ??? (this looks like a keysmash or something to me?) stop writing. Hold on, I hear something.”

And I would’ve thrown it directly in a translator, but as One acknowledges in their next post with a link to more binary, I had to translate by hand because:

“well! you'll never guess what desktops do to morse code! we're back at binary! anyway. we did post an address but everything went wrong, i don't like thinking about that entire week, the pain was unimaginable! more importantly, though, i've asked mod 3 and he s hold on i think i hear something.“

That post was immediately reblogged with more binary that just says:

“well that’s not good”

Which is horrific!! So I sent an ask, like, ayo homie what the fuck, and I got a response! The text itself is just a dismissal that anything’s wrong, but the bolded text spells out “footsteps” so that’s terrifying! Also Two apparently slept in the McDonald’s parking lot and One slept in a sleeping bag in the cellar.

They posted that this morning when I started working on this post, -- I’ve been here for like eight hours now I think, -- and so I replied expressing my distress that they were active again and One responded with backwards text, which when read normally, says:

“Did you think we were going to sleep forever? The show must go on!”

Death undertones, I dig it.

Anyway, @hotsinglelemonsinyourarea my beloved asked why they were watching @emerald-whale, and One hit back with binary that says:

“you don't think we're watching all of you? tell the lorekeeper to write this one down. sincerely, mod 1″

Which is fucking horrifying, but no worries One, I am writing it down!! I am making a whole ass fucking timeline!! Because I am but a humbled servant that kneels to whatever story you’re trying to tell here. :) Apparently. ::) I hate it here.

Anyway, an anon sent in an ask that is one of the funniest interactions ever:

“ooohhh pizza mozarella pizza mozarella rella rella oohh“

“alright no more lore for you guys until you learn how to behave”

And then Two felt like pitching in as well:

Now keep in mind all of this was posted very fast and I was writing this post, -- still am, whoops, -- so I sent this very stressed ask telling them to SLOW DOWN THE LORE PLEASE IM FUCKING PLEADING as well as asking each mod a question, and I got shot back more binary cuz they hate me but they did answer my questions so the conversation goes:

Me: “One, are you in the same room as Three? What about Two?” One: “yes. no. i miss 2 dearly.” Me: “Two, who did you bite to get out? Two: “the ghuy from the movee !!!! i bit him and sstole hias phone!!!!!! his passw ord was "willwoodsux" :-)” Me: “Three, how long has it been since you’ve consumed any media that isn’t WW related?” Three: “It’s only been a year since I entered the cellar, so not that long ago :-) Around July you're welcome, lorekeeper sincerely, the three mods

So to clarify what and why I was asking:

1. My theory about One and Three being together while Two is separate is confirmed, yay me! Kinda trivial but I want to understand what’s going on in the cellar, so that stuff makes sense in context.

2. I haven’t seen the Will Wood movie, so this means nothing to me! Lucky for me, I have a friend, @indubitablyswag, who has seen it, so I asked them!

They have no fucking clue either!! So I will probably be renting that movie tonight, because this lore is worth money to me now, apparently, -- and I’ve been meaning to see it anyways.

3. Three made a comment about having never seen Ratatouille, which Nigel thought tied into my theory that non-WW things weren’t allowed in the cellar. I think this confirms that, but it actually doesn’t excuse Three from not knowing Ratatouille because it came out much longer than a year ago. (Unless this ARG takes place in a different year? I’ll have to ask about that.)

Then there’s another pizza mozzarella whatever ask, but it’s okay cuz Two fucking murders them.

I got my numbers screwed up and hurt One’s feelings, (IF YOU’RE READING THIS, ONE, IM SORRY, I MEANT THREE!!) something???? hurts, and I have wasted a solid nineish hours of my existence on this.

Then One gave me a whole ass heart attack by asking my favorite flavor of ice cream. (Theirs is birthday cake, apparently.)

I’m posting it before any of those fucks give me any more lore to add to this timeline because I’ve been here for like ten hours and I honestly just Can Not Keep Doing This, so I’ll be back with more theories later, -- especially after I’ve seen the movie.

In the meantime, au revoir, I’m gonna go have a stroke. I hope you guys are pleased with your lorekeeper. Cuz if you’re not then literally what has this been for? :::))

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bqstqnbruin · 4 years ago

Text

three times he said he loved you + one time you actually heard it

I have not written for him since Thanksgiving so this was nice, I must admit. But I did this as part of the Summer Fic Exchange put together by @hockeynetwork ! I really did love this and I high key hope you do something like this again.

So this is for @broadstbroskis I hope you like this!

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

One

“I don’t really understand why we’re having the entire damn town over at our house when half of it still needs to be packed up and the other half is boxes,” you say, trying to maneuver through the mess of your room, making way to your bed while Nolan follows the same path as you.

You flop down on your bed, trying to tune out the noise of your parent’s friends saying goodbye to them when they only let you have one friend over, and that was only because Nolan’s parents were also friends with your parents. “Probably because parents need an excuse to get drunk and it’s more socially acceptable when it’s with a group of people instead of by themselves,” he says, lying down next to you.

The two of you lay there in silence. Neither of you had really accepted the fact that you were moving away because of your dad’s job, and neither of you wanted to accept it, either. But now, you were leaving in about a week, some of your stuff already shipped to the new house that your dad bought, your transcripts sent to Harriton High School in Lower Merion, Pennsylvania, and your life starting over at age fifteen.

“What do you think it’s like there?” he asks, breaking the silence.

“My dad must have gotten a really nice job because the new house is, like, twice the size of this one.”

“Really?” he asks, sitting up. “I want to see it. Get your computer.”

“Ok, bossy, give me a second.” You find your laptop, pulling up Google maps and typing in the address. “It’s this one.”

His eyes go wide, jaw dropped. “You’re joking! This is huge! Can I move with you?”

You laugh, desperately wishing that you could tell him yes. “I think you need to stay here. Something tells me if you come with us, your chances of making the NHL wouldn’t be very high.” You take in a deep breath, Nolan exploring the area around your new house while he mutters about how he can’t believe that you’re leaving to begin with. “Wouldn’t it be great if you got drafted by Philadelphia or somewhere close so I could see you?”

“I don’t even know if I’ll get drafted.”

“You will. I know you will. In 2017, I will be sitting there, glued to my TV, watching you get drafted. You’ll probably go top ten, maybe top five if you get really good really fast,” you say, putting your computer away. You dodge boxes, praying that you don’t trip on anything. You have no idea where anything was at this point, despite labeling everything. “God, I need this stuff out of here.”

You sit back down next to Nolan, your knees touching. Your parents had a rule that you weren’t allowed to date until you were sixteen. Nolan knew that, you knew that, everyone in your school knew that. Sometimes you couldn’t help but wonder if your parents didn’t have that rule, would the two of you already be together? Not that it mattered now with you moving to Pennsylvania and all, but hypotheticals are always fun to think of, aren’t they?

Nolan actually had it all planned. The night of your sixteenth birthday, right at midnight, he would call you on your cell and ask you out. He would take you out to a movie, dinner, and then walk around the city, assuming your parents would let you do all of that. Now that you were moving, his chance was gone.

“You really think that I’ll go top five in the draft?”

“Maybe. I think you can be a top five prospect if you work towards it enough.”

He looks like he’s about to say something to you, his eyes going between your own and looking down at his hands. He can’t stay still, his cheeks getting the classic rosy pink shade that you would tease him for constantly, knowing that you were the only one who he let do it. He finally takes a breath to say something, only to be interrupted by a knock on your door.

Your mom opens the door before you can answer, you trying to move away from Nolan a little so she wouldn’t get suspicious. She was the one who made the no dating rule, even if she loved Nolan like he was her own son. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt,” she says, obviously lying, “Your father just finished everything on the grill, you kids should come down to eat.”

Nolan gets up from your bed, pretty much running out. Your mom stops you, gently pushing you back into your room and closing the door behind you. She gives you that look asking for an explanation.

“What?” you ask her, trying to pretend like you don’t know what she’s about to ask you.

“What were you doing up here?” she asks, folding her arms.

“Do you want a play-by-play or a summary?” you ask her. Every time she saw you with Nolan, her first instinct is that you were breaking her rule about dating and were actually seeing Nolan behind her back. You couldn’t help but get a little irritated when she asked you the same question each time: what was going on?

“Give me the Sparknotes.”

“Showed him the new house, complained about moving, did the same thing I did when Sammie was over, too,” you told her, referencing one of your other friends. She cocks her eyebrow, the signal that she doesn’t believe you. “Go ask Nolan!”

“I know you’re upset that you’re leaving him but there are other-” she starts, trying to reach out to touch your shoulder.

“Please, do not finish that sentence. Mom, come on. Nolan is my best friend, of course, I’m going to be upset about leaving him. You’re moving me to Pennsylvania where I have three years to start over and make new friends only to leave them to go to college. Can we please go down for food, though?” you ask her, trying to get past her, “I’m hungry, I haven’t eaten since breakfast.”

She looks at you, trying to figure out if she believes you. “Go ahead,” she says, gesturing to your door. You move past her, Nolan still waiting at the bottom of the stairs.

“There were too many adults for me to fend this alone,” he says when you reach him.

“Where are your sisters?” you ask him, grabbing his hand and dragging him into the kitchen.

“Outside?” he guesses, handing you a plate as you both start to pile on the food. Around you are your parent’s friends, talking, laughing, enjoying the time as if you weren’t about to leave them forever. Nolan can see the sudden shift in your mood; whenever you start thinking about moving, you always get upset, “Hey, let’s go look out back,” he suggests, leading you through your house to the back porch.

Outside was quiet, the sun just starting to set and making the sky brilliant colors of pink, orange, blue; everything that you loved about living away from a city that you wouldn’t get living twenty minutes from Philadelphia. “I can’t believe we’re leaving this,” you say, sitting down in the grass.

“I can’t believe you’re leaving me,” Nolan mutters.

“What?” you ask him, snapping your attention away from the sky and to him. He’s looking down at his food, pushing it around his plate. “You ok?”

“Yeah,” he says, still not looking up. “I said I can’t believe you’re leaving, either.” He didn’t want you to leave at all. Slowly, everyone started to come outside to enjoy the sunset, all the adults screaming and being unnecessarily loud. ‘Just say it,’ he thinks to himself. He was going to regret it if he didn’t. “I love you,” he blurts out, just loud enough for you to hear it over the commotion. And he meant it. He really did love you, as more than a friend, he thinks he always has.

You look at him and smile. “Yeah, I love you, too,” you say, thinking he meant it as just a friend. Part of you was happy the two of you weren’t dating. Having to break up would be a lot harder and leave him would be a lot harder than it was now.

Two

You were ecstatic to be back home, even if it was for the wedding of someone you weren’t really close to. It had been almost three years since you were last in Winnipeg, and when the opportunity came up for you to visit, you had to jump on it, having to beg your parents to let you go back home without them. You hadn’t seen Nolan since you moved, other than through Facetime. He was getting ready for the draft that was weeks away, obviously stressed, and according to him, only going to the wedding because you said you were about to go with him. You were staying at his house, sharing the room with him, much to your surprise that his parents even let you.

“Why did I agree to go to this with you?” Nolan whines as you struggle to zip up your dress.

“Because you missed me and this was the only way you would be able to spend time with me,” you tell him, turning your back to him. “Come zip me up?”

He gets up off his bed, one of his hands finding the small of your back to hold on to the base of the zipper, pulling it up slowly as he held his breath. You were nearly 18, now old enough that the dating rule your parents had set was done. If you hadn’t lived in Philadelphia now, he was sure that you two would be celebrating your two year anniversary soon. Taking you as a date for this wedding was probably the only time you would ever be each other’s dates unless by some miracle he ended up in Philly, or you ended up in whatever city drafted him.

You’re also holding your breath, and you aren’t sure if it’s because you think it will make zipping up the dress easier for Nolan, or for some other reason. You hear him mutter that the zipper is up, turning around to face him. He was already dressed in his suit, his hair styled in just the right way so not a strand was out of place. He looked amazing. “You look,” you start, trying to find the right word, “Great.”

Looking at you, he couldn’t find a flaw in your appearance. He knew the flaws that made you who you were, but he didn’t mind them. He had always liked them. “Uh, so do you,” he stammers out. You could feel your heart beat faster, and he could feel his own doing the same. You both swore the other could hear the beat as you got nervous just being around each other. You looked so good with the clothes you had on, but you couldn’t help but think about how you would look with them off.

“We should get going,” you finally let out after what felt like the longest moment of silence between the two of you.

“Yeah. Yeah, we should.” The two of you leave his room, calling to his parents on your way to let them know not to wait up for you. Something really was about to happen just then, wasn’t it? No. You were overthinking it. Everyone loves a well-dressed person: you were just getting swept away by the suit, the same thing would have happened if you saw anyone else in a suit.

Nolan was driving to the venue, not saying anything. He was freaking out about how he could have just kissed you at that moment, but he blew it. He should have just kissed you. What if he did tonight? Would it be better to kiss you and have you leave, or to not kiss you at all for you to still leave? Either way, you were going to leave him again. Part of him thought that he would see you again. Somehow, you would both end up in Philadelphia, he just wasn’t sure how.

The wedding goes by without you even paying much attention. You seemed to just follow whatever everyone else was doing, standing when they were standing, trying to talk if everyone else was talking. You were focused on Nolan the entire time. He looked so good in the suit, and you could not get over it. You get to the reception, seeing a lot of people you grew up with somehow having grown up a lot more than you expected.

“Y/N!” You hear someone squeal. You turn around to see Sammie, running towards you and Nolan. Nolan tries to dodge her; she had always liked him, but he was never interested in her as more than friends. He slips away to get food just in time. “I’ve missed you so much!” she says, pulling you in for a tight hug. “You’re here with Nolan?”

“Uh, yeah, I guess he’s my date for tonight?”

She pulls you over to an empty table, plopping you down at the seat next to her. “You know, I’m pretty surprised you two never got together,” she blurts out.

You look at her, confused. Nolan has always been your best friend, and that’s all. No matter what you felt about him, you couldn’t risk something like that. “No way,” is all you can manage to get out.

“Oh, yeah. So many girls at school have been trying to get with him, but no one’s succeeded. During the wedding, I saw the way he looked at you. If heart eyes were an actual thing, that boy would have them for you.”

“Again, no way. He’s my best friend, that’s all.”

“Best friends fall for each other all the time,” she sings, shrugging.

“Hey, do you want to dance?” Nolan asks, startling you.

“Yes, please!” you say, thankful that he saved you from more interrogation. “Thank you,” you say as he leads you to the dance floor.

“You needed saving,” he says, taking your hands and starting to sway with the rhythm of the music.

“My hero!” you swoon, making him laugh. The two of you move in perfect sync like the song was made for you. The room around you melted away and it became just you and Nolan. It felt like a scene from the movie, where everything goes dark and the spotlight is just on you two. You weren’t saying anything, your head on his chest as he pulled you in once the song changed to a slow song. You could feel his heartbeat, noticing it getting faster even though everything else around you remained steady.

The DJ came over the speakers to announce the arrival of the new husband and wife. You and Nolan move off the dance floor, Nolan standing behind you, his hand finding it’s place at the small of your back again. They start their first dance as a married couple, and you suddenly can picture yourself doing the same. You’re in a dress that fits you perfectly, flawless makeup, not a hair out of place, dancing with the love of your life. You see yourself with, you aren’t sure who. You feel like you’re standing off to the side watching yourself dance with Nolan.

You wanted it to be Nolan. You weren’t sure if it was being at the wedding, or if it was a feeling you had been repressing this entire time. You look up at him and smile, him beaming down at you. You put your arm around him to pull him in for a hug. You couldn’t tell him how you felt, though. Not with you leaving so soon to go back to Lower Merion.

Neither of you could tell that you were thinking the same thing. Nolan wrapped his arms around your shoulders, pulling you closer to him and resting his chin on your head. You reached up to meet his hands, holding them there as you settled into his embrace. If he could tell you right now that he loved you, he would. But he couldn’t help but wonder what he would do if you didn’t love him back.

Three

The day Nolan got drafted felt surreal. You couldn’t believe that he was going to be coming to Philadelphia, the same city you moved to, the city you were going to stay in for college. The day he actually arrived in Philly didn’t feel real either. You had helped him move in, and honestly, you spent more time in his place than you did at your own.

Neither of you had admitted that you had feelings for the other. There was no way you could. You were practically living together, you being Nolan’s first friend outside of his team when he first moved to the city. You couldn’t ruin what you had, so you just pretended like those feelings didn’t exist.

“Where are we going tonight?” Nolan asks you as you take over his bathroom to get ready for the night.

“Somewhere called Brew Pub in Manayunk.”

“Why are we going, again?” he moans. He leans back on his bed, having a direct view of you getting ready. You were doing your mascara, not that he had any idea what else you still had to do. He never really knew why you wore makeup, he didn’t think you needed it at all.

“Juliette said it was a good place to meet Saint Joe’s and Nova boys. You know, all the right private schoolboys from Nova and then their less rich counterparts from Saint Joe’s,” you say, messing up your makeup.

“What could that possibly mean?”

“Could not tell you. Apparently she just likes Saint Joe’s boys.” You try to fix your eyeliner, not succeeding. “Shit!” you say out of frustration, “Why do I look like this?”

“What do you mean?” he asks.

“Full of questions tonight, aren’t we? And, I don’t know, I just feel,” you hesitate, trying to find the right word, “Ugh.”

He gets up from his bed, wandering into the bathroom to stand behind you. “How could you feel ugh?”

“I don’t know. I’m in a mood. I don’t like how I look,” you admit, shrugging it off. “Whatever, I just need to finish this eyeliner and we can get going. Is Travis meeting us here or there?”

Nolan stays standing behind you, not listening to the questions you’re asking as you keep talking. God, how could you not understand how beautiful you are? Every time he pictured his perfect girl, he thought of you. He really did love everything about you, right down to your annoying pen tapping when you’re thinking about something. How could you not see yourself the way he saw you?

“Nol?” you ask him, snapping him out of whatever trance he had fallen into.

“Sorry, what?”

“You never answered if Travis was meeting us here or at Brew Pub?”

“Oh, sorry, I kinda spaced. He’s meeting us there.”

You turn around to look at him, your makeup done, but it was him with the blush on his cheeks. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” he lies. Why has he waited so long to tell you anything about how he feels? “I was just thinking about some drill from practice. I was having issues with it.”

“Eh, don’t worry about it right now. There’s nothing in hockey that you haven’t been able to get eventually. Tonight, let’s just go out, drink a little, flirt with some people, and then come home.”

Flirt with some people. Yeah, like he actually wanted to flirt with anyone besides you. Not that he actually did flirt with you; something about you he felt like he couldn’t, like it would cross a line or something. You guys leave for the bar, not saying anything while Nolan stays on his phone telling Travis to get there as soon as he can. He’s not sure he can really handle seeing you flirting with someone else. He wasn’t even sure if he had before. But if he was about to see that, then he needed some sort of bonehead energy to keep his mind off of it.

‘I’m waiting outside already. There’s a pizza place across the street, can we go?’ Travis sends back.

‘No.’

‘Once we’re drunk?’

‘No.’

‘Smile Pat?’

‘No.’

The entire ride, you were sitting there, trying to figure out why he went radio silent since you left. The only thing you could do was let him talk when he wanted to. You knew better than anyone that if you tried to force him to talk when he didn’t want to, he would shut down completely. You get to the bar, trying to find Juliette in the small, crowded bar, losing Nolan and Travis completely.

“Ok, so I’ve seen a few slightly attractive guys but I’m not drunk enough yet for me to find them very attractive, but I figure if we sit down and flirt with them enough, we can get a few drinks from them,” Juliette starts rambling, dragging you directly to the bar to have you start flirting.

Nolan and Travis had found their seats at the other end. Nolan couldn’t keep his eyes off of you as you talked to the guy seated next to you.

“Why aren’t you there next to her?” Travis asks him.

“What do you mean?” Nolan asks, pretending not to know what he was talking about.

“She’s there, flirting with a guy, probably intending on at least getting a drink or two from him, and you’re here watching him talk to your girl.”

Nolan looks at Travis, the look on his face telling him to cut it out. “She’s not my girl.” He looks back at you, watching you flip your hair over your shoulder, laughing and reaching out to touch the guys arm. His heart started racing at the sight of something so simple. He takes in a deep breath, “I’m in love with her. Have been since I could understand what love is,” he admits.

“Well, what are you going to do about it?”

“Same thing I’ve been doing. Not telling her.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t want to mess up what I have with her.”

“That’s dumb.”

“If you drop this, I will pay for that pizza across the street, I will buy the whole place if it means we can drop this.”

“Fine,” Travis says, throwing his hands up in surrender, “Whatever you say.”

+one

You groan as your alarm starts to go off, rolling over to try to find your phone and shut it off. You didn’t even remember turning an alarm on for today, so why was it even going off in the first place? Finally finding it after haphazardly feeling around your nightstand for it, you groan even louder when you see that it wasn’t your alarm, but Nolan calling you, instead.

“You really changed my ringtone so it would be the same as my alarm, you jackass?” you answer, mentally cursing yourself for even letting him know your passcode in the first place.

“Good morning to you, too,” he says. You can hear cars passing him by, indicating that he was somewhere on the street in the city. “I’m going to be over in twenty minutes and we’re leaving when you’re ready.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” you ask him, pulling your phone away from your ear to check the time. “You woke me up before the sun rose on a Saturday for what reason?”

“See you soon!” he says, his tone sounding weird with his deep voice. He hangs up before you can protest. You put your phone back on your nightstand, rolling back over to fall back to sleep. The door to your apartment was locked; Nolan wouldn’t be able to get in without a key, and there was no way either of your roommates were up to be able to let him in. “Get out of bed!” you hear someone yell, jumping on your bed. You must have fallen back to sleep, only for Nolan to wake you up, somehow breaking into your home.

“I’m calling the police,” you say, throwing your pillow over your head.

“Yeah, like that will do anything. But I told you to get up!” he says, taking the pillow off your head and ripping the covers off from on top of you. “We’re going out today, come on.”

“How the fuck did you get into my apartment?” you ask sitting up, eyes barely open.

“Alex lent me her key,” he says, pulling you out of bed. “Now get ready.”

“I can’t go out with you if I’m about to kill someone,” you say, rifling through your drawers anyway. “Where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise.”

“Then I can’t get dressed and we’re not going.”

“Yes, we are.”

“Then what do I wear?”

“Wear something nicer, but bring a sweatshirt because I know you’re going to be cold at first.” You shoot a glare in his direction, picking out patterned shorts and a plain tshirt, pulling out one of his sweatshirts that you stole from him. “I’ve been looking for that!”

“Get out,” you say, pushing him out the door so you can get dressed, “Make me coffee.” you shut your door, locking it so he can’t come back in while you’re getting ready. What did this boy have planned?

While you get ready, cursing him both mentally and loud enough that he could hear you, Nolan fumbles around your kitchen trying to make you enough coffee to hold you until you got breakfast. He had the whole day planned for you, something spontaneous enough that you would have no idea what was coming. Travis had helped him figure it out, starting with watching the sunrise on Boathouse row, heading to the Art Museum and walking around, and then going to Sabrina’s for food. He had your favorite snacks in his car so you wouldn’t complain, a map of the museum marked with things that he thought you would like, and a reservation at the cafe so you wouldn’t have to wait at what would be a very busy restaurant for hungover Drexel and UPenn students.

“That coffee smells so good,” he hears you say, causing him to jump. For someone who had just been woken up against their will, you looked stunning. He was so excited for this; you had told him that you had never been awake to see the sunrise, and he knew that the day he finally told you he loved you had to include that. “Can you please tell me where we’re going?” you ask a still speechless Nolan.

“You’ll see,” he says, handing you your coffee and walking out your door. All of him was nervous. How does he tell his best friend that he’s in love with her? And what if you don’t feel the same way?

“The sun hasn’t even come up yet, what could we possibly be doing?” you whine again, sipping the coffee. “It better involve food or I’m going to be very upset with you.”

“You’re already upset with me so what else do I have to lose?” he asks, trying to control the shaking in his voice. “And stop asking, you’ll find out when we get there!” he insists, hoping that you’ll stop for the time being. You end up dozing off again, Nolan stealing glances when he can as he drives to park at Fairmount Park. “Hey, Y/N. Wake up.”

“What?” you mumble, stretching as he wakes you up again. “Where are we?” you open your eyes, looking down the street towards where his car is facing. “Kelly Drive? Why are we at Boathouse Row?”

“Come on!” he says, already pulling you out of the and running down the street. You keep going until you’re past the boathouses, far enough away that the sounds of college rowers are in the distance as he sets out the blanket you didn’t know he had.

“You’re unusually happy to be up this early, what’s going on?” you ask him, sitting down next to him. What could he possibly have planned.

“Will, you just shut up and look?” he asks, pointing you in the direction of the sun.

“Oh, wow,” you let out, looking as the sun rose over the trees, lighting up the Schuylkill sitting in front of you. “You took me to see the sunrise?” you ask him, not looking away as the sky turns from the deep purple to a brilliant orange.

He can feel the heat rushing to his cheeks, turning them more pink than normal. He watches you as the sun makes your face glow. Everything about you was perfect, from your hair that you had thrown up into a messy bun so that you could get ready faster, to his sweatshirt that you were wearing because you loved that it smelled like him. He couldn’t help himself, “I love you,” he blurts out, his eyes wide in disbelief that he actually said it.

Your head snaps to him, finally breaking away from the sun. There’s no way he just said what you thought he did. “What?”

“I love you. And I have been trying to tell you since before you moved here. I always have loved you, and part of me thinks that I always will.”

“Nolan,” you start, thinking he was done.

“And you don’t have to say that you love me, or anything really, because I’m just kind of springing this on you, and-” he continues to ramble, acting completely out of character from his usual quick and snarky behavior.

“Nolan,” you try again, hoping that he’ll stop.

“This wasn’t even the way I wanted to tell you, even though this is what I think might be the third time that I’ve actually told you,”

“Nolan!” you yell, finally getting him to snap out of his rant and look you in the eye. “You love me? Like actually love me.”

“I thought I said that,” he says, starting to panic. Did he just go into a rant for no reason?

“I mean, like,” you start, trying to figure out what to say, “You love me, too?”

“Too?”

Without thinking, the sun finally peaking over the two of you as Kelly Drive starts to get more busy with runners, rowers, bikers, and families, you take his face in your hands and kiss him. Your lips move together in sync as his hands find your back, pulling you in closer to him. When you finally pull away, not bothered by the fact that multiple people probably just saw you, you look at him, the blue eyes, rosy cheeks, his hair in a state of disarray. “Too.”

#nolan patrick #nolan patrick imagines #Philadelphia Flyers #philadelphia flyers imagines #flyers #flyers imagines #nhl #nhl imagines #hockey #hockey imagines #the summer fic exchange

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jeonjeonggukenergy · 5 years ago

Text

Anti-Hero

summary ~ in search of wine at a party that’s so not your scene, you run into jungkook, the weeb from your film class, and become determined to learn just how much he lives up to his big reputation.

pairing ~ jungkook x reader

genre ~ fluff, smut - college!au

wordcount ~ 8.5k

warnings ~ 18+ only! smut, explicit discussion of kinks/sexual preferences (yay healthy communication), dom/sub undertones during both discussion and sex (dom Jungkook, sub reader), mentions of daddy kink and degradation but both are a no, marking, biting, hair pulling, spanking, they both have a srs pain kink lmao, brief oral (f receiving), penetrative sex, creampie

a/n ~ SO excited to finally have this chapter out for yall! it’s a huge one and i’ve been working on it for quite a while, this includes the first full smut scene for this fic and i would love to know how yall like it or any other feedback. i really enjoyed writing the character development in this chapter too! they’re so cute and whipped for each other already hhhhhh. thank you so much for loving this story so far, i’m really looking forward to writing the rest. hope you enjoy! ❣️

previous: chapter 1 | chapter 2 ~ next: chapter 4 (coming soon!)

~ read on ao3 ~

CHAPTER 3 ~ particular, perfect

You concluded your walk home by ditching your shoes at the door, swinging your bag off your shoulders to the floor, and plopping down onto the couch immediately. Pulling all three nearby blankets over yourself, you realized you still weren't quite comfortable. You looked around for a second, puzzled, until an absentminded clutch of your boobs reminded you why. Triumphantly, you reached into a sleeve to untangle your bra and chucked it across the room with a deep stretch of relief. Okay, time to overthink again.

Jungkook? What the fuck?

Wait. A bag of chips on the kitchen counter caught your eye before you could descend any further into panic. The perfect emotional crutch. You clutched it to your chest like a safeguard against your own internal monologue, anxiously shoving handful after handful into your mouth. After about thirty minutes spent motionless on the couch with one hand shoved in the chip bag and the other distractedly scrolling through Twitter, your eyes suddenly widened and your hand froze, dropping your next bite of chips back into the bag. Fuck. You had just eaten nearly an entire family-size bag of chips before what could end up being your first fuck in over a year. Well, maybe this was part of why you hadn't gotten fucked in over a year. No, don't go there. You shoved down your own insecurity, knowing you'd just been too busy for a relationship and honestly, probably still were. But that wasn't going to stop you today.

You shook the chip dust off of your hands and got up to head to the shower, turning up your trashiest throwback playlist of getting-ready bops and resolving to at least shave your legs. Going in with no expectations was probably the best strategy here, but it never hurt to be prepared.

Having cleaned his apartment in record time, Jungkook was now at the gym. After triple-checking that his roommate Jin would be in rehearsal until 10pm at the earliest, he quickly scanned all the common spaces and his bedroom and realized he didn't actually have that much work to do besides politely closing the door to Jin's still-decent-but-somewhat-messier room. To be honest, Jungkook had mainly bought himself the time after class so he could shave just in case. But then he figured if he had to shower, he might as well hit the gym first. So here he was, burning off an unprecedented amount of nervous energy. Settling comfortably into the leg curl machine, he turned his music up and started on a low weight to put in reps until his thighs burned and his head felt pleasantly empty.

After completing his normal leg day rotation and dutifully stretching, Jungkook prepared to head home. He walked out of the gym feeling more energized and centered, barely even flinching when he switched his AirPods off to say bye to the nice girl at the front desk and the action accidentally blasted "Whistle" by Flo Rida from his phone speaker for the whole lobby to hear. As he walked back into his apartment, the kitchen clock let him know it was only 4:30. He had plenty of time. Jungkook hopped straight into the shower, shampooing his hair, shaving everywhere he normally did, and savoring several extra moments to relax his muscles under the hot stream of water. Finally, he toweled off to wrap up in the black t-shirt and cozy matching sweatpants he'd carefully stacked on the counter. Offhandedly singing to himself in the steamy mirror, he checked the time on his phone, deciding he might as well go ahead and text you before he got nervous again and did something stupid. Like chickening out completely.

hey its jk! im ready when u are :) my apt is 344 glencoe rd #1521 (yes its on the 15th floor sry D: )

His charming old-school smileys lit up your phone while you still had a leg perched on the bathtub's edge.

"Fuck!" you reacted. The hiss resounded, thanks to the too-good acoustics of your cramped bathroom. Your razor clattering to the floor, you paused your max-volume 2000s music to check the message, and then the time. Only 5! That wasn't dinnertime yet. Plugging his address into Google Maps, though, you realized it was a 15- to 20-minute drive from yours on the opposite end of campus. Even if you got ready at light-speed, you would get there closer to 5:30. Which was a bit more reasonable. He was being reasonable! You should be ready by now!

You leaned over to pick up your razor and cursed again as the water stream grazed the blouse you'd left on out of laziness. You'd showered this morning, so there was no need to repeat that with your shave, but now you'd have to change outfits completely. Feeling like an idiot, naked from the waist down but now all the way wet, you peeled the shirt over your head slowly to preserve your good hair day and glanced down at the dilemma you'd been facing. The patch of hair between your legs stared back at you like the final boss of stupid societal beauty standards. You'd only shaved down there once, as an anniversary present for your first boyfriend the summer before college, and it had been a fun, smooth novelty for about two hours and then itchy, red, gross-looking, and miserable for about three weeks. Also, it had kind of made you feel like a little girl, which creeped you out when you thought about why guys would prefer it. You'd been debating whether to try it again for the past fifteen minutes, because if there was ever a right time, this was probably it. But now you didn't have time, if you were going to be respectful and not keep Jungkook waiting. Well, this was the real you. He could take it or leave it.

Slathering a quick coat of lotion over your freshly shaved legs, you prepared to get dressed in a soft pastel sweatshirt and a flattering pair of workout shorts. Wait, should you wear lingerie? Was that too try-hard? You didn't really even need to wear underwear with these lined shorts, which could be a cool-girl move, you supposed. You settled on a cute white sports bra to go with the shorts, not wanting to deal with a real bra and hoping it still appealed to Jungkook's casual, athletic style. You checked yourself in the mirror briefly before grabbing your bag, confirming you looked chill enough but still felt like your best color-coordinated self. Heading out, you shoved a tin of chrysanthemum green tea in your water bottle pocket. Why not?

You whizzed over to Jungkook's apartment, yelling along to "Sex With Me" by Rihanna from your throwback playlist to hype you up in the car. When you knocked on his door after a nerve-wrackingly long elevator ride, Jungkook welcomed you with a "C'mon in!" amidst a mouthful of shrimp chips.

"It's not really dinnertime yet," (yeah, no kidding, you thought) "I went ahead and worked out but it's still kind of early, so I figured we could just have a snack and do the homework first."

"Sounds good," you affirmed. "I'm not really that hungry," (read: there's no way I can eat chips AGAIN right now, I'm going to bloat so badly) "but I brought tea so I can go ahead and make that if you want some too!"

"Oh cool, thanks!" Jungkook accepted. "Are you sure you're not hungry though?"

You almost gave into his sweet pout, but managed to convince him, and soon you both sat at the table with laptops open and twin cups of tea. You had a blast working together for the first time, acting out your "conversation" for the discussion board and pretending to respond spontaneously to each other's points like you hadn't already excitedly rambled back and forth through them in real life. You hit "send" five minutes apart, your idea to not seem too suspicious, and kept raving over Rear Window in between. As the sun lowered outside his living room window, you moved on to making the ramen.

After three offers to help Jungkook, all of which he denied, you simply made another steep of the tea, leaving a mug on the counter for him. Standing at the bar counter sipping yours, you enjoyed all the tiny, cute noises he made while chopping green onions and sprinkling extra garlic in the seasoning, like an anime character who came with his own sound effects. You could tell he made these recipe additions every time, because bulk quantities of the same simple ingredients lined the counters of his cozy kitchen. When he beat two eggs and dropped them into the pot, though, he couldn't seem to find a lid, and eventually settled on trapping the steam with a plate. You both waited on the egg for a silent moment, your foot bouncing under the bar while Jungkook restlessly acquired a slight wiggle. As he took a sip of his tea, a strand of hair fell over his eyes, and he yeeted it out of his face. Your inner language nerd cringed, but there really was no more apt word to describe the action.

You offhandedly said you liked his hair long, and he replied with a smile, "Maybe I'll have to keep it then."

"Do you like it too?" you wondered.

"Honestly no, it's kind of inconvenient."

"Oh, then why would you keep it?" you immediately asked back.

"Well..." he dragged out. "You like it? Maybe I should keep it if it looks better this way."

Your eyes crinkled appreciatively at his thoughtfulness, but then you backtracked. "Wait, no, it's okay! If you don't like it, don't feel like you have to keep it just because of something I said. You can do whatever you want."

"Hm, yeah." A demure smile tugged up the corner of his mouth as he lifted the plate from the ramen pot.

You watched him drag a chopstick through the floating, now-cooked egg to tear it into ribbons, then divide the noodles between two generously-sized bowls. He carefully wiped down the drips of broth from each bowl before sprinkling in his fresh toppings, then walked with you to the table.

Serving you with a pleased smile and a slight nod, he announced, "Dinner!"

"Wow," you mused playfully. "So gourmet."

"I'm really particular about my ramen," he admitted. "I have it down to a perfect routine at this point."

You took your first slurp of his particular, perfect ramen. "Well, it's really good. I'm impressed. And thanks for making me dinner, you didn't have to do all that."

"Oh, come on, it's instant ramen," he laughed. "Nothing special. And you brought the tea, so thanks. And thanks for coming over. And doing the homework with me. And...yeah." Rambling again. Why did he seem so...nervous? You were nervous. He couldn't be nervous. What reason did he have to be? But the twitch of his mouth under his wide eyes, his slightly reddened ears, his hand skittering over his neck—fuck—to ruffle his hair...every action turned another page of his open book. It felt infuriatingly unfair that genetics had assigned someone so sweet and shy and unsure of himself to that fucking body.

While you both ate and talked, you kept catching glimpses of any small flashes of skin you could find, as his long sleeves fell to expose his forearms and the wide neckline of his boxy black shirt gaped around his collarbones. What was wrong with you? Even if this did eventually turn into a dick appointment, the boy still had literally all of his clothes on. You tried to refocus on finishing your noodles, while your brain screamed at itself in shame that you could get this turned on by the sight of someone covered from neck to ankle.

Jungkook ate surprisingly slowly, probably because he kept pausing to excitedly explain his favorite things about the Cowboy Bebop episode you were about to watch together. You smiled into your tea through every out-of-context fun fact and "wait, sorry, that might have been a spoiler!"

Finally, he reached the bottom of his bowl and insisted on both taking your dishes to the sink and leaving them for him to clean later. "You sure you want to start on episode 2? Not 1?"

"Yeah, I remember well enough and your summary helped a lot too!"

"Okay, if you're positive!" he double-checked, grabbing the remote.

Gingerly lowering yourselves to the couch in sync, you avoided looking at each other as you both tried to calculate a comfortable distance between you. His hand looked ready to either hold yours or lower to your thigh, but he retracted at the last second, smoothing it over his own leg anxiously and still clearly itching to make a move. You shuffled closer to him until your thighs barely touched, and he shifted to slink an arm around you, letting your head rest on his well-muscled shoulder. After pressing “play”, he began wiggling slightly again, subconsciously grooving to the old-newspaper-style intro. Spike Spiegel appeared on the screen, his broad shoulders squared into a slouch as he listlessly watched TV. Jungkook kicked one leg over another and stretched his arms out symmetrically to echo the pose. Raising an eyebrow, he waited until you acknowledged him with a faux grimace and a hand to your ear, imitating the old man in a lab who’d just called up Spike for a new mission. You both burst into laughter and settled back into your former arrangement, Jungkook holding you imperceptibly tighter. Though you tried to stay staring straight ahead, wanting to genuinely appreciate the anime, you kept catching his doe eyes in the corner of your sight as you both giggled and gasped your way through the episode.

After avoiding eye contact too many times, you finally tilted your head for a cute sideways view of his face. He leaned toward you too, shyly closing the gap to touch his warm lips to your nose, then lower. You responded immediately, rolling your body with his so your chests met as he pulled you up into a full, deeper kiss. The longer you explored each other's mouths, the more Jungkook punctuated your movements with whimpers. He seemed hesitant to let his hands roam away from your face and neck, but his high, breathy moans made it clear that he was just as into this as you. Your hands had naturally found his taut waist, and at some point you started to bring them back up to his face too—but as your short nails grazed his chest, a particularly sensual, voice-cracking moan interrupted you. You drew back in slight surprise, blinking your eyes open to scan from his face to his body.

He followed your gaze, both slowly settling on the massive tent in his pants. You froze. Your breath grew heavier, confronted with evidence of his physical attraction to you, if nothing else. After regaining his composure, he laid a useless hand over his lap in a delicate attempt to distract you and brought his other hand up to tap your face lightly.

"Is this okay?"

His eyes glittered with equal parts hunger and concern.

"Yes!" you nodded, too quickly, too eagerly. "Yes, this is totally okay. Sorry if I'm being weird, I just...it's been a while." You cringed internally at your own words, but couldn't seem to avoid putting your foot further in your mouth. "I haven't really, like, hooked up like this before—like, I've had sex, but never really outside of a relationship. But don't worry, I get this is more your thing, and I'm totally down if you are. I just don't really know what I'm doing, and you clearly do."

Jungkook blinked at your admission, then his face twisted into something curious, inscrutable. Would he decide you weren't worth the potential for drama? His lips flattened out to a tight line, then pursed to speak, and you looked down at your lap, hoping he wasn't as embarrassed of you as you now were of yourself.

"Well, I've never had sex sober."

Your eyes flashed back up to his. A complex half-smirk offset the furrow in his brow as he exhaled in nervous relief. "So, I don't actually know what I'm doing here either."

You tried to delay your response as you processed the implications. "You mean..." You tilted your head for better eye contact, hoping to convey empathy but not pity while you silently contemplated how to proceed. "Never?"

"Yeah, I've always shown up to parties and the hookups just...happened. Nothing I didn't want, nothing bad like that, but always spontaneous. So I guess we're kind of meeting in the middle, because I've never really had to plan ahead for a situation like this and, uh, figure out what I want. Beyond, yknow, wanting to get laid in the moment, of course." Jungkook laughed off the end of his explanation, but the smile never quite hit his eyes.

"Well, okay, let's pause right there." You sighed. Something in his words didn't sit right with you. "What do you want? I want you to be sure about this, of course, but more than that, even—what do you like?"

"I..." he chuckled, sheepish, shaking his hair over his face again. "What, you want me to just tell you? Like, what I'm into?"

"Yeah," you shrugged, trying to project more confidence than you felt in hopes of encouraging him to keep opening up. "I want you to be able to communicate, I want you to be comfortable. And I want to know what you like, so I can make it as good for you as possible."

With your hands still laid flat on his chest, you felt his heart rate jump a tiny bit, and took the liberty of digging your nails in just slightly deeper. His breath caught him, and then he caught himself. "I don't know, I just want what you want."

Jungkook struggled to appear nonchalant as you rolled your eyes with an "Oh, come on," challenging his avoidance. Every instinct was telling him yes. He could hear his mind screaming at him to be intentional for once and let you take him, if not farther, then deeper than ever before. But he still hesitated, because being intentional in this case required him to be real. He had always been a fairly private person, but something about you made him feel so comfortable so fast that it counterintuitively made him more nervous. Of course Jungkook knew you weren't all innocent at this point, but the risk remained that you wouldn't really be down for everything he secretly wanted to explore. Even worse, though he didn't truly think you would, you could easily turn around and spin anything he revealed into yet another graphic rumor. Especially since you had no skin in the game yourself. He glanced down at your fingers, tensed into his chest, and narrowed his eyes.

"Why don't you tell me what you like first? And then I can tell you where we overlap," he grinned competitively. Your eyes widened as he tossed the challenge back your way. Not backing down, you flattened your hands and steeled yourself to settle the stakes.

"Fine—but only if you promise not to just go along with whatever I say. I'll let you know anything that's a hard no for me, but otherwise I want to hear at least one thing that's not on my list. I really do want what you want, that's how I am too, okay? So..." you paused to slide your fingertips over his collar and drag it down with a light scratch, now directly on his skin. You smiled with your eyes, enjoying the way he naturally responded with a hitch of his breath again. "Surely you can think of something specific."

He nodded quickly, before he could convince himself to back out. "Yeah. Promise."

"Okay," you confirmed, slightly nervous but determined to go through with this, for Jungkook's sake if anything. Seeing his body come alive with each new twist of the situation was building your curiosity, not to mention turning you on beyond belief. You could barely stand the warmth of his skin under your hands, so you drew them back to fold in your lap as you began. "So. Uh. To start. I've never really laid it all out like this either. I really like neck kisses? Like, a lot." Equally unused to this kind of directness, you wrung your hands together nervously, but sucked up the boldness to keep elaborating. "That's definitely, like, a big thing that turns me on...and then getting marked up and everything is really hot to me too. Like you can honestly go really rough with me on that, bite me even. I don't know if this is weird but even though it's annoying to cover up, I love taking off the makeup at the end of the day and seeing all the bruises on myself. Knowing I was walking around all day with that as my little secret." You swallowed shyly before continuing, but Jungkook interrupted the brief silence immediately with a hushed "Fuck."

You turned to face him fully and he didn't even move to meet your stare, eyeing the space above your sweatshirt's wide neckline like he was ready to devour you. Emboldened, your smile grew.

"So...yeah. I like being bitten, marked up. Mostly, uh," you rubbed a slightly trembling hand over your shoulder, "I'm just really into pain in general. Obviously not the bad 'I'm too dry and you're jackhammering me' kind of pain, or like, anal. Anal is a hard no. But things like biting, or hair pulling, or overstimulation. Or, like—I don't really know how to explain this, but...getting held too hard? That deep pain like when you get a massage when you're sore and it hurts but it's good, yknow?"

Jungkook looked like he was about to vibrate out of his skin, breathing shallow and rapid. His eyes flicked up to meet yours, just in time for you to whisper in conclusion:

"I love that feeling."

You suddenly looked away, reticent. A thick silence swelled between you, until he composed himself enough to punctuate it. "Okay. Yeah. Pain. So like, BDSM?"

"I mean, kind of? Sure? I don't have much experience with that and I don't really need the whole power dynamic aspect; I just like the, uh, physical pain. I wouldn't be opposed to trying further, but one thing I do know is I really don't like being degraded. And I'm not into the whole daddy kink thing either. I'm just not gonna call you that, sorry," you laughed, and fortunately he giggled too. "But I know that's not, like, necessary to the rest of BDSM, and the part about giving up control is still...interesting, for sure."

"Wait," Jungkook cocked his head, making a mental note of your last sentence before he went back to the previous one. "What do you mean, being degraded?"

You half-chuckled, half-cringed, never having needed to explain something like this, especially to a guy you hopefully were about to fuck. Cheers to better communication, you supposed.

"You know, how some people when they do dirty talk are like 'yeah, you little slut, you're such a whore.' I don't like being called any of that. Like it's fine that other people like it, there's nothing wrong with that, it's just really uncomfortable for me."

His brows knit together as you explained, and he shook his head so fast it almost looked cartoonish, like a little kid refusing vegetables. "Yeah, no. Don't worry, not really my thing either."

You sighed in relief. "That's nice. I feel like it's, like, weirdly common with guys. Maybe just the kind of thing people learn from porn."

"But you still like it rough, huh? Did you learn that...from porn?" he half-joked, trying to overcome both his shyness and his gritted-teeth arousal.

"No, I don’t like porn. Most of it’s really unethical. I learned from experience," you sassed back. "I don't have a whole lot, but enough to know what I like."

"Well. Hm." He worked his tongue over his teeth, poking one cheek out over his tensed jaw. You couldn't get enough of watching him grow fascinated by your every revelation, and you were preparing to keep pressing further when he beat you to it, posing a question. "Is there anything you haven't tried before, but really want to?"

Your face heated up instantly, tasting your own medicine. You looked back to your hands, breaking his intense eye contact to give yourself the courage to be even more uncomfortably honest. "I...I...um." Your first attempt at disclosing your fantasy came out as a squeak. Swallowing, you set your shoulders and tried again, selfishly reminding yourself Jungkook seemed so eager to please that this was 99% likely to get you exactly what you wanted. "I've always been, uh, really into the idea of, um, getting spanked. I've been, uh, too nervous to ever bring it up, before now obviously, but it's definitely one of the biggest kinks I've always wanted to try. Maybe being tied up too, I think I'd like it if I tried but I haven't thought about that as much. But, yeah...spanking, definitely."

"Fuuuuuuuuck."

A lengthened version of Jungkook's earlier under-breath exclamation made you peer up at him. Your thighs already pressed together from the tension of admitting something totally new, you found yourself needing even more friction just from the sight of Jungkook with his head thrown back on the couch, a veiny hand threaded in his hair to pull the long waves back from his forehead. The full reveal of his sharp eyebrows brought a whole new level of intensity to Jungkook's already beautifully carved features. He glanced over at you, then squeezed his eyes shut with a terse exhale. You couldn't place why, but you felt a deep attraction to the way he expertly restrained himself from acting on the lust written over his face—not under your control, but his own.

"Oh, fuck. What the fuck. How the fuck would you fucking know," he swore more in a single burst than he cumulatively had ever in your presence.

"What?" you toyed, heart rate still high but relaxed enough to enjoy agitating him. "Something ring a bell?"

Jungkook shuddered out a long breath, hand ruffling his hair as his other forearm still tried desperately to subdue his boner.

"Everything," he hissed, more willing to elaborate now that you had done the same, and especially now that he could tell you really did enjoy him being more assertive. "Shit. I...I want...I know you said not to just say this but I really do want everything you want. I can't wait to mark you up. I can't wait to hold you down and bruise your neck. I want it all, I want to make you hurt so good. And then—" Breathless. He looked almost embarrassed. "Then you had to go and somehow guess basically my biggest fucking kink, I can't fucking believe you." Both hands had come up to seize his long locks as he held himself back physically, while finally letting his guard down mentally to declare everything he intended to do to you. Letting out a short laugh, he finally met your eyes. "I wanna spank your ass bright red. Fuck. This is crazy. You're perfect."

Your core throbbed at every bold word. Leaning in close to him, you let your lips approach Jungkook's beautifully sculpted jawline as he panted, his chin tossed up to fully expose his neck. You stopped just short of his skin, in awe of how much you'd been able to work him up and still so tempted to take it to the next level. "Fuck," you echoed. "This is so hot," you murmured almost to yourself. Your eyes closing along with his, you dealt the final blow. "I love that we have so much in common. But come on, you promised. One thing that's not on my list."

Jungkook whined. You could tell he needed to touch you so badly, and no one was stopping him but himself. He had no way of knowing that if he cut the whole discussion and just took you, you wouldn't even try to resist at this point. Staring at his trembling mouth from below, you quickly averted your eyes when he opened his, pretending you hadn't been looking. He inhaled a short hiss, and then spoke.

"Okay..." He paused after just the first word, blowing air through the tiny "o" of his mouth as his eyes bugged slightly from nervousness. He couldn't resist a challenge, though, and his urge to please you overwhelmed his reluctance to peel back one more layer. "So, the pain thing. I think we, uh, feel the same about me giving and you receiving. But...I'm really into it for myself too. I don't know if you'd be comfortable with it, I know you maybe want me to be more dominant and I think I like that more too in general, but you can be as rough with me as you want back. I'd love that." Eyes still open but fluttering, Jungkook's tone grew breathier, heady as he confessed. You almost giggled at how bashfully he worded his desire to dominate you, to rough each other up, but the contrast was so hot you couldn't help sucking your bottom lip between your teeth, eager for him to continue. His voice lowered. "I love being scratched, marked, bitten...hit me, push me back, any kind of pain or any way you can hurt me, I want it." He shivered, but his voice firmed up even further. "I want it so bad."

You fought to stay motionless beside him, unable to even process how much more his honesty had turned you on. You felt helpless in your desire for him, your craving to give him everything he wanted and more. He noticed your charged stillness and shifted toward you, removing a hand from his hair to finally reach for your face. Threading his fingers through your hair instinctively like he had with his own, he tilted your head back to access your neck. Jungkook finally felt confident enough to tease you back as he skimmed his lips over your pulse point, tugging your skin between his teeth for a gentle first taste and grinning when you moaned. Seeing someone so satisfied, for reasons better than just his body or their pride, brought the most incredible rush of blood to his head. And his other head.

"And I get why you want it too," he finished with a whisper in your ear. "So trust me when I say I really, really want to give it to you."

In an instant, your hands yanked his hair down to bring his face up to yours, mouths crashing together. Feverish, restless, you kissed him, hastily attempting to straddle his thick thighs before he threw his body over yours and pinned you to the back of the couch. His hands wandered, intrepid, from your waist to a quick squeeze of your breasts before he spiraled you into his strong arms. Pressing your chest flush with his as your mouths meshed, he ground his hips into you shamelessly, enjoying the way you struggled beneath him to align your core with his rock-hard dick.

"Your room?" You rushed out the words.

Jungkook laughed a little, his tone half whine and half dare. "So we're done talking?"

"Come on," you pleaded back. He finally relented, pulling you up with him and dragging you across the living room and through his door, lips not leaving yours for a second. You backed him into the bed with your arms against his strong chest, and once he was sitting perched on the edge, you laid yourself horizontally over his thighs.

"What are you doing?" he murmured, curling a hand over the dip of your waist to hold you gently.

You angled your head back to make unsteady eye contact with him, flipping your shorts down boldly. His free hand automatically reached to slowly conform to the shape of your ass, so eager to touch you but tentative as he grazed your curves.

"Giving you exactly what you want."

"Fuck. Really? You're sure about this?" Jungkook held careful eye contact as you brought your arms back up, crossing your wrists over your head delicately. You nodded slightly and did your best to meet his gaze with confident invitation, convincing him how much you trusted and wanted him.

He smoothed his warm hand over your ass one more time, then brought it up and watched your thighs tighten at the loss of his touch. Breathing in, still a little shakily, he brought his hand down on your right cheek with a loud but mild smack. A grunt of satisfaction involuntarily left him when he saw your face flinch down into the sheets, subduing a small noise of surprise. He returned his hand to caress the light redness he'd left, checking in with you again. "Is this okay? Let me know if I should stop."

You replied with your face still tucked between your arms, muffled by the bed. "More than okay. Please don't stop."

He spanked you again, moving to your left cheek. This time you felt his dick twitch under you and couldn't help grinding down on him a little bit. "Is that as hard as you can go?" you taunted in low tones, brave enough to egg him on but not quite enough to meet his eyes again.

Jungkook's thighs and core tensed under you, and he squeezed his fingertips tighter, digging into the skin of your ass. "Not at all," he said simply.

Deep breath. A few seconds passed, and his hand came down, harshly. You cried out in shock, the timing unexpected and the sting far sharper, and he gave your other cheek a fourth hard smack before you could even process the third one. "Harder?" he tested. "Tell me."

Another spank. "Mmmf."

"You like this, huh?"

"Yes, I told you," you whimpered back, half-teasing even though you were in no position to do so. Immediately, he cut you off with a stinging hit across both cheeks, and you moaned.

"You really do," he breathed lowly. "Fuck yeah. Take it then."

He spanked you again, and again, then paused, tugging down your shorts all the way to your ankles to expose the crease right above your thighs. Rubbing your already sore bottom, Jungkook cupped the underside of its curve in his big, firm hand. Already anticipating your whine, he drew back his touch and hummed in harmony with you. He continued landing satisfyingly hard smacks, alternating to cover your ass evenly. His dick strained through his pants more and more each time you trembled under his touch. Never hitting you hard enough to do serious damage, he still clearly enjoyed his thorough reddening of your ass, and occasionally took a moment just to caress your skin as it warmed from the spanking. The pain lit your senses up from head to toe. Face burning with deep arousal, you mentally thanked yourself for going out of your comfort zone and unprecedentedly admitting your kinks before even venturing into your first time together. Amidst the thrilling sting of his hand meeting your soft curves, Jungkook eventually noticed your thighs clenching together, craving friction but not really wanting relief from the pleasurable burn.

"You're wet," he marveled, sliding two warm fingers up and down your slit.

"Mhm," you mumbled back as you tilted your hips into his hand. He gave you a light slap right on the folds between your legs, eliciting another soft moan.

"So good for me," Jungkook said softly, pulling you up into his lap by your waist. "You look so pretty like this. I wanna see all of you." He tugged your sweatshirt over your head, followed by your sports bra, thankful that it stretched over your head easily. Suddenly grinning, he wound up and shot it across the room like a rubber band, and you smacked his arm, giggling.

"What was that? You cheeseball," you teased, and he blinked, chuckling lightly back. It occurred to him that he'd never laughed, or made someone laugh, during sex before.

"It was so stretchy! Don't make fun of me," he blushed.

"You're so cute," you said, fingers sliding under his t-shirt hem.

"Cute?" His eyebrows rose in mock disbelief, and he reached around to land another hit to your still-red asscheek.

"Hot," you amended. Raising his shirt and finally getting a full glimpse of his enviable abs, you groaned. "You're extremely hot, and also really cute, and it's kind of ridiculous and I don't really know how to handle all of it at once."

His face scrunching up into a smile at the praise, he fell back onto the bed with his arms behind his head. "You are too, you know. Really cute, of course. But really hot too." As you discarded his shirt and moved on to easing his sweatpants down his hips, you held in a gasp as his erection sprung up from the waistband. He was big, thick, and painfully hard, his tip glistening warm with precum and a lone vein running prominently up his smooth shaft. Although you wouldn't be corroborating them, you had to admit to yourself that all the rumors were true. You instinctively curled a hand around it, barely covering half his length, and he winced at your slightest touch. Pulling off with a single slow stroke, you slid his sweatpants and briefs all the way to the floor and then stood, looking up from his legs to his blown-out eyes to take in the glorious sight of his fully naked body.

"You shave," you said, surprised by the clean skin under his arms and between his legs.

"Yeah," he demurred, self-conscious for some reason. He lowered his arms to fold them over his torso, somehow defining his biceps even more. "I'm on the dance team, and it's nice to feel all smooth for practice and stuff. I don't know, I just like it."

"Oh, that's cool! No worries, I like it too. And you don't mind that..." You looked down at yourself, still just standing naked in front of him. "...I don't? Like, down there at least."

"No, you do you!" he said quickly. With a shy smile, he admitted, "I actually kind of like it on you. I do this for me, anyway, not for anyone else," he playfully noted. Slowly, he was sitting up to take hold of your waist and lower you down to the bed with him. Pausing to kiss the sweet spot under your jaw, he continued. "So don't feel like you have to do anything, or not do anything, either."

Jungkook couldn't quite explain the nature of how his attraction to you had developed. Seeing how open and honest you were with him made it easy for him to be honest with you too, and just to feel comfortable being himself. He admired the way he could still tell you sometimes got nervous like him, but it didn’t stop you from getting real or going bolder. Unable to fully express it in words, he just hoped to ensure you felt as comfortable and respected around him as he did around you. He already knew that he wanted this to be more than just a one-time thing, and while he still hesitated to assume that you felt the same, he intended to leave no doubt by the end of the night.

You moaned as he nipped at the skin of your neck. It was so easy to get swept back up in Jungkook. You could barely handle the friction of his dick rutting against your wet folds from below, craving him inside you. "Ughhh. Wait, one more thing. I'm on the pill, are you clean?"

"Yes," he gasped, barely removing his mouth from your jaw. "Are you?"

"Yeah, so we don't need a condom. If that's cool with you!"

"Yeah! But, you're ready?" He seemed surprised.

"Aren't you?" you whined, beyond holding back. He felt so unbearably hard that his coherence and willpower kind of surprised you too. "Please, I want you so bad."

To your surprise, he lowered his head to the crest of your legs, dotting wet kisses down your torso. Keeping his big brown eyes on you, he teased your entrance with a finger and echoed your immediate groan at the welcome stretch.

"You really are ready," he remarked, awed at the ease with which your wetness sucked the digit in. Frankly, you were in awe as well. It had taken your ex-boyfriend months to figure out how to get you this worked up. Jungkook either had even more experience than you'd heard from the grapevine, or he was a natural. Or maybe you were just really, ridiculously, primally attracted to him. He went on to curve his finger in you and lick a messy swipe up your folds, sucking hard once he reached your sensitive clit. You cried out at the delicious burst of stimulation and he rose up to catch your lips with his.

"I had to do that, just once," he grinned breathlessly. "But—"

"Let me suck you off," you interjected, unbelievably fucking turned on and dying to please him.

"No," he gasped with far more fervency than you'd think anyone could refuse a blowjob. "Please, I was about to say—" he choked out a high-pitched moan as you ran a single finger up his shaft in anticipation, sinking the nails of your other hand into his thigh. "—I think I'm gonna explode if I don't get inside you right this second."

So he did have a breaking point. "Fuck," you muttered, bringing your legs around his to tuck your heels under his tight ass as he lined up. He eased his tip in, keeping heavy eyes on you the whole time, and you could feel the hot, thick tension in his thighs as he struggled to hold himself back from just thrusting into your heat. Slowly, he drew closer into you until he bottomed out with a low moan. You whined at the perfect slight pain of the stretch, and Jungkook squeezed his eyes shut, gripping you by your waist. Watching the veins in his forearms stand out as he drove almost all the way out and back into you, you rocked your hips carefully against his with each smooth stroke, getting used to his fullness. When his balls met your ass again, he shuddered a bit and opened his eyes into yours.

You answered his question before he could even ask it. "Jungkook—you feel so good. You can go faster, it's okay."

A smile hit his eyes before his mouth, and he kissed you once, pressing his chest to yours and intertwining your tongues eagerly. You bit his bottom lip as he slowly drew away, tugging it between your teeth to pull a sweet little whimper from his throat. Grinning, he leaned back in to touch his forehead to yours and simultaneously slid a subtle hand under your ass to curve your hips up with his. The slight leftover sensitivity of your skin amplified his light touch, and Jungkook seemed to realize this, curling his fingers to tease you with the tips of his nails. Instinctively, you ducked to bite his neck, not even registering your move to pass the pain back to him until he choked out a beautifully half-restrained moan and snapped his hips into yours. Gasping, you encouraged him to lose himself in you, dragging your lips up to latch around his earlobe. He hissed and thrust into you sharply again, meeting the time of your movements as you swirled your tongue between each of his hoop earrings. Soon he was pounding you rhythmically, finally letting you feel the full force of his strength but keeping remarkable control over both his body and yours. Both of you had gone silent except for your heavy breaths, lost in the moment, but the flexed shivers of his thighs and twitches of his fingers in your hair told you all you needed to know. Suddenly yanking your strands to pull you back from the additional bruise you'd sucked beneath his ear, he earned a new set of scratches on his back as your hands dragged down the muscular expanse in reply. Jungkook switched places with you to draw dark clouds from your skin, a storm brewing under your jaw. Your face fell into pure bliss, eyes shut and immersed in the barrage of sensation from his hands, mouth, and big dick filling you. Already feeling the familiar tension that preceded an orgasm building through your whole body, you chased him closer to his climax too, grinding back roughly into every thrust and raking your hands over every part of his firm body you could reach.

You had really been fooling yourself when you thought you could try something casual for once. You wanted more of Jungkook, all of Jungkook, nothing but Jungkook ever again. Knowing he'd never even gone back to the same hookup twice sank slight anxiety into your stomach, a kind of future nostalgia for this moment you already feared losing. You knew you weren't anything special compared to the catalogue of gorgeous girls he'd had his turn with, but a deviant voice whispered from the back of your mind that you could be, because it was clear none had bothered to learn him like this. You'd still try your desperate best not to want too much from him, but you resolved to do whatever you could to make him crave more.

Rolling your hips in a smooth circle against him, you clenched around his dick and your hands tightened their fierce hold on his tiny waist. You felt his abs tense within your grasp as he tried not to stutter into you.

"Fuck. No." His voice cracked, but held an undertone of ferocity. "You come first." Jungkook rushed a hand to your clit, adding pressure in small, deft motions with a fingertip as he kept fucking you deep. You sank your teeth into his shoulder in response, drawing your hands up his back to clutch him closer to you, and Jungkook cried out. You left your mouth on his golden skin to stifle your moans as he sped up his fingers, and he tried to let you stay there but eventually couldn't help pulling you off him to see your face. Eyes narrowed and eyebrows turning up sharp at the ends, he watched you like a hawk to track the exact moment when he pushed you over the edge. Your face crumpled and you felt your whole body burn under his gaze as you came, squeezing around him in waves of pleasure while he fucked you through your high, unrelenting. Drinking up the bliss obvious on your features, Jungkook's eyes never left yours and his expression grew more and more fucked out. You marveled at how even as you lost control and energy to fuck him back, your body freezing in orgasm seemed to turn him on further. One last pulse of the tension leaving your core made his dick throb inside you, and you impulsively broke your eye contact to lean in and bite down slow but hard on his neck again. He gasped.

"You're amazing." Murmuring into his skin, you kissed the bite marks gently. Jungkook whimpered at the sweet contradiction and lurched into your hips even harder. You recovered to move with him, squeezing him deeper into you every time he bottomed out, and as his breathless moans escalated in pitch, his whole body shivered with each stroke. Pressing wet, heavy kisses all over his neck, you felt his jaw flutter while his lips hung open. His considerable strength spent, Jungkook shuddered one last hard thrust into you and finally let go, coating your walls from within. His hips lightly rocked against yours as he stayed deep inside you, still hard and savoring the euphoric release he'd held back for so long. You felt so incredibly warm and comfortable around his sensitive dick, relaxed but still holding him tight, and he couldn't help holding you up for a languid kiss before pulling out of you smoothly.

He briefly looked into your eyes, and you saw stars. The sun had continued to set outside, and it peeked between the blinds of his window to wrap you both in a warm, slivered glow. Staring down at his hands on your body, Jungkook took a deep breath and collapsed to your side, holding you close. You settled into him, cupping a hand over his head on your chest. With your fingers laced through his sweaty hair, you stroked his temple with your thumb, worrying for a second whether the gesture seemed too intimate but forgetting your fear when he snuggled up into your touch. You felt the need to say something, to figure out what the fuck was next after this, but stayed silent, not wanting to disturb the comforting weight of his frame. Heartbeat still racing, Jungkook stretched out to breathe a long sigh. As he sank back into you, you stretched under him too, letting his solid, warm body drape over you like a blanket. This couldn't be farther from what you'd expected with him, but you weren't about to make it stop. Surely, eventually, he would.

A minute passed. And then five. And then, before either of you could talk yourselves out of it, you were asleep, intertwined.

#jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader smut #bts smut #bts fic #bts fanfic #college!jungkook #college au!jungkook #bts college au #jungkook #jeon jungkook #bts jungkook #my writing #fic: anti-hero #anti-hero #anti hero

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florrickandassociates · 3 years ago

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TGF Thoughts: 5x10-- And the violence spread.

So, that’s it for season five. I’m still trying to sort out how I feel about the season as a whole and Wackner’s arc. I’m hopeful that writing this will help me decide.

This episode has a Previously, and it’s rather conventional. I’m guessing it’s here to bookend the season, with conveying information being only a secondary objective.

Did we see Rivi scream, “You’re done, Wacko, you’re done! Canceled! Canceled!” in the last episode or is that new to this previously? I feel like I absolutely would’ve had things to say about a) Wackner being called “Wacko,” which has been RIGHT THERE this whole time, and b) the use of “Canceled,” which is a thing Rivi would never say but is VERY thematic (you know, cancel culture and also Wackner having a TV show and also this being a TV show that’s wrapping up* Wackner’s arc).

* The way things end this episode, I’d say we’re done with Wackner. The Kings have said they aren’t sure about the plan for season six, so never say never, but I think that if we see Wackner again, it will be as part of a different arc.

I went back to 5x09 and while we do see the same shots of Rivi screaming, whatever he’s saying in 5x09 is in Spanish. So either he was saying this in Spanish or the dialogue here is totally new.

I’m a little sad that I knew in advance Robert King had directed this episode, because I want to know how long it would’ve taken me to guess. I’d like to think this first shot, of Diane flopping down on her bed in a very pretty floral print dress, then Kurt flopping down in the opposite direction, would’ve given it away. We usually don’t get shots that are both striking and kinda balanced unless RK’s directing.

This also has some big season three opener vibes—the scene where Diane turns to Kurt and says, “I’m happy,” thus jinxing the entire season.

Diane and Kurt are about to go on vacation, which means, of course, that Diane and Kurt are definitely not about to go on vacation. I’ve watched 12 seasons of this show; I know all the tricks!

If I didn’t get it from the initial staging of the opening shot, the camera panning to Diane and Kurt’s suitcases and then back would’ve been another clue that RK directed. He ALWAYS has the camera in motion.

I love that Diane’s travel outfit is a dress you could wear to a fancy party and a statement necklace. Of course it is.

And if I needed evidence that RK and MK wrote this episode (which I didn’t; it is a finale so I knew they wrote it), Diane quoting Waiting for Godot is a clue there.

I really should read Waiting for Godot, shouldn’t I?

“Wow. Educated and a good lay,” Kurt responds. I know that the political stuff between Diane and Kurt can get more than a little murky, but banter like this reminds me why they stay together and why politics never drive them apart. Also, it’s really nice to see Diane and Kurt have some fun banter that isn’t about politics.

And Diane making kissing noises and asking Kurt to meet her halfway! This just feels like I’m spying on someone’s private life and I love it. Not in a voyeuristic way, since this is actually a little uncomfortably private, but in a, “ah, yes, these do feel like real people” way. This is the kind of “a little goes a long way” character moment I always want more of, and Kings episodes ALWAYS include stuff like this.

And there it is. The phone rings as Diane and Kurt are about to start out for the airport. Diane thinks the call must be for Kurt, but it’s for her. It’s a very flustered Liz, informing her that STR Laurie’s execs are on their way to the office for a surprise visit.

If the Diane/Kurt scene didn’t tell me that Robert King directed, I almost certainly would’ve gotten it from the sudden cut to Liz, walking through the hallways and doing a million things at once with a ton of background noise. No one loves chaos the way Robert King loves chaos.

This episode STRONGLY reminds me of the Wife season five finale. It is equally chaotic and also spins a ton of plates. But, mostly, the similarity I see between the two episodes is that they are both extremely fun and captivating to watch because of how much momentum they have, but everything just feels slightly hollow and not exactly focused on the thing you want to see.

(Shout out to my friend Ryan, who messaged me the 5x22 comparison before I could message it to him!)

I decided I should rewatch the first few minutes of 5x22. I am now 15 minutes into 5x22 of Wife and 2 minutes into 5x10 of Fight. Oops.

Apparently, STR Laurie planned a surprise visit because they heard RL was dysfunctional. You don’t say!

I felt like 5x09 concluded with STR Laurie being won over by Allegra and the RL team, so this is a bit of a surprising place to start the episode. But, since Diane seems surprised too, I’ll allow it.

Now Liz and Diane have 90 minutes to agree on a financial plan! Kurt’s on the phone with the airline before Diane even hangs up with Liz.

Diane is determined not to lose out on her vacation and asks Kurt to change the flight to 8:00. “Kurt, we are going on this vacation if it kills me!” is a line I would worry was foreshadowing on basically any other show.

The RL/STRL PowerPoint template is pretty ugly. They want to call 2021 their best year yet, thanks to the deal between Rivi and Plum Meadow Farms we saw last week. Even though we saw champagne and signatures, the deal isn’t done yet because Plum Meadow can back out if Rivi goes to jail.

RK also loves close-ups more than any other director on the show; I do not love close-ups.

The Plum Meadow deal is such a big deal that for the quarter, they go from $45 million to $5 million without it. They should just not say numbers. I can believe it’s big enough to take them from a modest profit to being behind projections or whatever, but I can’t believe that they have $5 million in other business and $40 million on this one deal.

It seems that Rivi was arrested. I don’t think it is ever said in this episode why. I assume the arrest relates to his behavior in Wackner’s court, since there were police officers there, and I suppose that Rivi is a big enough deal the police would actually take him to real court, but are we not going to address the weirdness of Rivi being arrested in a fake court where his employees are being tried, then taken to a real court by the same people who just an episode ago were disillusioned with real court? This seems like a plot point.

Carmen on a frantic phone call in the backseat of a car feels very 7x22.

Who is James that Carmen has in her contacts!? And why does everyone always put Liz in their contacts as “Elizabeth Reddick” when everyone calls her Liz?

Carmen calls Marissa to go argue in Vinetta’s court since she’s on Rivi duty. Carmen doesn’t take Marissa’s job in Wackner’s court seriously and then notes that this instruction is coming straight from Liz, so Marissa falls in line.

Wackner’s case of the week is about rural Illinois wanting to form its own state separate from Chicago. There’s a farmer who feels like his tax money is only going to the big city and he wants it to stay in his community.

They’ve just now added stage lighting to the set of Wackner Rules, dunno why they wouldn’t have done that earlier!

I don’t know what standing you’d have to have to bring a case about wanting to divide the state in two to court, or if this is even something a court would or should decide, but, sure, Wackner and Cord, go for it. There are no rules!

This map splitting Illinois into two new states that Cord is holding is a dumb prop because Galena, where this farmer is from, is in the same section as Chicago. Do I pause every reference to Chicago on this show and then google information to see if the writers bothered to look it up or pretend they’ve ever set foot in Chicago? You know I do.

“Secession!” the audience screams. Does the audience of Wackner Rules really want to see this?

A Good Fight Short! And it really is short: “Stop this obsession with secession and breaking up the Union. It’s boring and it’s dumb, end of song.” I feel like that’s the thesis statement for this episode, or one of them (that this episode seems to have about ten thesis statements is kind of my problem with this episode, tbh). This episode is very much about danger of things becoming too fractured—the COTW, the copycat courts, the firm drama—and I feel like the writers come around to just saying no, this is enough, we need structure and consistency.

But more on that later. MUCH more on that later.

Marissa is swearing more because “the world has required it.” She notes this to Wackner as she calls him out on the secession case. Cord barges in.

Take a look at the employee of the month poster on the back of the door at 5:39. Then at 5:40, look at what’s in the box just to the right of the center of the screen: it’s an employee of the month poster with Wackner on it! Cute easter egg. (Would Marissa definitely notice this and have questions? Yes. Is this here as a cute easter egg for eagle-eyed fans? Almost certainly.)

“Insane is just one step away from reality if you get people to believe, and you know what makes people believe? TV.” Cord explains when Marissa asks how they can possibly be litigating this case. That’s thesis statements two and three, folks. The first is that if you get people to believe, then anything is possible, which sounds like a tagline for a Disney movie but is actually super dangerous; the second is that reality TV is a way to persuade people and change opinions.

So we’ve got: (1) Factions are bad. (2) People are persuadable and the rules don’t actually matter. (3) Reality TV changes minds. Let’s see if there are more.

(Yes, these theses do kind of add up to a whole—The rules don’t matter, so if you persuade people, through reality tv, you get factions of people believing their own sets of rules and facts—but what I'm interested in tracking throughout this episode is how well the writers actually bring these theses together.)

(And this is setting aside that key themes in previous episodes, that I think many of us were looking for resolution on, included outlining the flaws with the extant “real” justice system and exploring the role of prison in the justice system. From this episode, I don’t think the writers ever intended to really tackle either of those issues. That’s fine—I'm not sure that TGF has something to say about prison abolition and I don’t want a thought experiment where the writers actually try to fix the legal system—but feels a bit disjointed. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, but 5x08 and 5x09 needed to do a better, clearer job of setting up this finale. The key themes of Wackner’s arc were always present, but they needed to slowly narrow the scope so the resolution felt inevitable and clear. Instead, we spent time on things like parking spaces (when we could’ve had a real plot about how Wackner’s court gains legitimacy through violence, incarceration, and playing on people’s frustration with the real systems) and Del’s focus groups (when we could’ve instead done a plot about Wackner gaining fans who wanted to use his methods to do ill). Everything I just mentioned in the parentheticals is in the show! It’s not subtext! We see it all! We see Cord use violence and prisons to enforce Wackner’s rulings; we see the cops turn to Wackner out of frustration; we see that the people drawn to Wackner Rules and to Wackner’s court are increasingly sounding more and more like right-wing populists! I can’t be too hard on this arc because, again, all these ideas are there. I’m not coming up with them on my own!)

I’m just saying: this ending would’ve been a lot clearer and a lot more interesting had the writers focused on what I mentioned above instead of the distractions of the last two episodes.

Whew, that was a ramble. Hope you’re ready for more rambles.

On a similar note, I’d like to reiterate my problems with how the writers used Marissa after the private prison reveal. I don’t have much more to say than what I wrote last week, but it’s another example of the same problem. Marissa objecting to Wackner’s court because she notices what it’s becoming and how Cord plans to use it for political gain (two Illinoises (??) changes the Senate and the Electoral College...) always was going to be part of the endgame. Marissa only seriously objecting after the fourth or fifth line Wackner crosses feels bizarre.

Cord does NOT like that there is another court, and wants to protect Wackner’s IP. Wackner, as we saw last episode, does not feel threatened by the other court. In fact, he seems to be excited by it.

I love Liz questioning Diane’s outfit like it’s unprofessional. It’s a little low-cut and showy, but I don’t think unprofessional is the word I’d use for it.

Now they have 45 minutes to decide The Future Of The Firm and Diane wants to be considered a name partner. Oh, that debate is still raging?! Every time I think it’s done it comes back, which should probably be a sign to Diane that her options are to leave and start something new, jettison Madeline and the others, or step down. Staying on as name partner and calling it a black firm is just not an option.

“Diane, there is a split in the firm that...” Liz starts, before asking some associates to leave the room. Ha! The reveal Liz and Diane aren’t alone is a pretty fun touch.

“The Black equity partners don’t want to be in your work group,” Liz informs Diane. “Because they think they’ll be punished by this firm?” Diane asks. “No, that’s paranoia. We don’t punish here,” Liz responds. “Of course you do. My fracking client. My union client. The Black lawyers who work on those cases—they're considered traitors” Diane says. “Because those CEOs are racists,” Liz counters.

Lots going on here, and I’m not sure I understand it all. Why would the equity partners—who are partners—feel like they’re being punished by being in Diane’s work group? (And also what does a “work group” mean and why haven’t they talked about it in the past?) When Diane starts talking about the lawyers who staff her clients, she’s not talking about equity partners; she is talking about associates.

And people are giving associates shit for working on Diane’s clients whom they happen to be staffed on!? That’s sad, though believable.

“So what do we do? Only bring in clients who can pass the racial smell test?” Diane asks. I mean, actually, yes. IF the goal is to be a black firm and to have that designation mean something in moral terms rather than marketing terms, then yes.

“It’s okay if you’re a drug kingpin like Rivi, but it’s not okay if you want me as lead attorney?” Diane says. Also, yes. Diane makes good points here.

“Diane, this is not about you,” Liz counters. Um, sure, but it has to be about something, Liz. Unless you’re trying to build a firm you don’t control that makes 88% of its revenue from a drug dealer (40 million out of 45 million this quarter = 88%; I told you they shouldn’t give me numbers) but happens to have black people in charge, you have to grapple with this question. I don’t think anyone who’s fighting for the firm to be a black-led (not owned, bc STRL) business is the type of person who thinks that having a black-led firm that does all the same shit as any other firm is in itself a good thing, so you NEED to address your client list. Madeline is anti-Rivi, anti-Cord, anti-Wolfe-Coleman (the rapist guy), pro-social justice, and pro having a black led firm.

“I mean, why... why do white people personalize this?” Liz asks. “Oh, now I’m just a white person?” Diane responds. I... don’t know what to do with this! Liz is right that Diane is taking this personally; Diane is right that Liz needs to deal with the rest of the client list. But no one is saying the things that REALLY need to be said: That all their decisions are meaningless in the shadow of STRL, and that deciding to be a black led firm isn’t the end of the discussion if they haven’t decided what types of clients they want to have.

“What happened, Liz? Last year we were intent on an all-female-run law firm,” Diane starts. Oh, THIS AGAIN! Diane never learns, does she? She never seems to realize that no one she’s approached with this idea is NEARLY as in love with it as she is. She probably still wonders to herself why Alicia—who partnered with her at the end of season seven basically just because it was the easiest, most frictionless thing to do—didn't seem more committed to their firm.

“Diane, there is history here that we are trying to...” Liz says, but Diane cuts in to note that women (women like Diane Lockhart!) have history too! In fact, she’s spent “35 years fighting gender discrimination to get to this position.” “And we have spent 400 years fighting racial discrimination to try and, you know...” Liz starts, before cutting herself off to get back to the ticking clock.

Sigh. Just talk about the actual thing instead of talking around the thing, guys. Diane is obviously deserving of A name partnership, in the abstract. This is an undeniable fact. And while Diane is definitely making this about herself rather than the big picture, I don’t think Liz trying to trump Diane’s 35 year career with the history of black people is going to win her any arguments? Like, just say what you mean and say it clearly. What Liz, I think, wants to express is that Diane’s individual accomplishments aren’t the issue here and everyone thinks she’s deserving (though Liz suggested Diane was not deserving a few episodes ago, which I didn’t understand then and don’t understand now). The problem is that Diane is trying to fight a battle that’s about something much larger than herself with, “but I'm a good lawyer!”

And that’s KIND OF what Liz is saying here, if I add all her sentences up and read between the lines, but, again, why not just say it?

“Alright, now we have 43 minutes to fix race relations, gender relations. STR Laurie’s gonna fire our asses, and you know it,” Liz says. I am curious what that would look like. Wouldn’t that just mean that STRL wouldn’t control them anymore? I’m sure being fired would be bad and all, but wouldn’t it free them from the contract they wanted out of last year?

“Let’s split the firm down the middle. I hire half the lawyers, you hire the other half,” Diane suggests. What does this mean? Why are you hiring your employees? Huh?

“You hire the white associates, and I hire the black associates?” Liz confirms. This seems like a very bad idea that would make things a lot worse and open them up to lawsuits! I also still do not know what they’re even talking about. And I don’t know why Allegra isn’t a part of this conversation.

“I’m not saying it’s good. I’m just saying it’s what we’re left with. It's what we can agree on,” Diane says. I really wish I understood what “hire” meant in this context because I don’t understand why they have to split anything or why this has to be done now and I don’t understand why this would possibly be a good solution. Can you imagine the backlash when people realize all the white people report to Diane and all the black people to Liz and that people were taken off of the accounts they’ve worked on for years to accomplish this? And this must be something that the employees would know about eventually; otherwise they could just randomly assign half to Liz and half to Diane.

I’m sad Madeline isn’t in this episode because I feel like we needed to see more of her POV as well as the associate POV. I don’t really understand the divides at play within the firm or what the staff and other partners are asking for, but I suspect it isn’t this.

Hallucination Jesus is back, and at least there’s actually a point to him this time (he shows up when Jay is in Vinetta’s court and reminds Jay that Vinetta will rule based on her religious beliefs). I still dislike the hallucinations.

Jay advises Marissa, who is Jewish, to talk a lot about Jesus in her defense.

Charmaine Bingwa is really great as Carmen, and obviously she is not fluent in Spanish, but it’s so funny to me that the only time you can hear that she’s Australian is when she’s trying to say Oscar like she’s speaking Spanish.

"I know you’re hiding something when you speak English,” Rivi says to Carmen. Heh.

“Community court” is such a nice, unthreatening term for referring to Wackner and his copy cats. Thanks for that, Carmen!

It’s a smart plan to mention Jesus a lot, I guess, but Jay and Marissa both should’ve realized that Vinetta is too smart to tolerate obvious pandering. I’m a little surprised Jay doesn’t get up and argue since Marissa is, obviously, not familiar with the New Testament.

Marissa wins this round with facts and logic.

Why is the judge who was handling Rivi’s previous charge now in bond court? Make it make sense.

I like that Carmen calls out the ASA for swearing hahaha

Why... would this Matteo kid just casually mention he was holding a gun, omg.

In Vinetta’s court, you can be charged with murder and tried because... you had a gun and also there were murders at other times. Coolcoolcool no problems here.

Community courts for civil cases? Sure. That’s basically arbitration. Community courts for criminal cases? Bad, bad, bad idea.

Vinetta’s reasoning: “Those murders happened on our street, and the police haven’t convicted anyone because they don’t care. We care. This is self-defense. And how is it different from your court?” Aside from the whole imprisoning people in her basement thing, Vinetta’s not wrong. I almost brought this up last week but hesitated because I couldn’t remember the details enough to decide if I wanted to recommend it, but there’s a book I read a few years ago that seems relevant here: Ghettoside by Jill Leovy. Again, been a while so don’t take this as a wholehearted endorsement or anything, but from what I remember, the central issue at the heart of the book (it’s non-fiction) is that a poor black community (I think in LA?) doesn’t trust the police (in part) because the police don’t solve murders, and then with no way of getting justice through the court system, there’s more violence as a stand-in for justice. https://www.vox.com/2016/8/26/12631962/ghettoside-jill-leovy-black-crime

I’m not sure if that’s QUITE what Vinetta is saying but it seems similar, and it’s a decent point (though not a justification for her court). Why should she trust the system to improve her community when it’s ignored her community for years?

I like that the writers chose two very different, very understandable characters for their community courts. It’s easy to see why Wackner and Vinetta feel the need for alternative courts; it’s easy to see why others would trust them. This arc doesn’t really work unless there’s a legitimate frustration with existing systems...

Marissa calls Wackner’s court a “joke,” which she should understand by now isn’t the case. (Marissa’s smart; she knew it wasn’t a joke the second she saw David Cord get involved.)

Vinetta accuses Wackner of copying her court, which alarms Marissa. This isn’t addressed again, and I don’t know if it’s true! I could really go either way on this. On the one hand, I absolutely believe that Wackner saw/heard about it, liked it, and did it himself without thinking much of it—and if this is the case, then the ending where Vinetta gets in trouble for violating Wackner’s IP is a lot more of a gut punch. On the other hand, I don’t really feel like the seeds for this were planted. We see Wackner innovate a lot and try new things and he has an explanation for why he does everything—how much of that is Vinetta? And Vinetta clearly watches the show and likes it or she wouldn’t have recognized Marissa, so it’s a little hard for me to just believe her claim when literally all I know about her is she has a court that looks like Wackner’s and she is aware of and feels positively towards Wackner rules. Also, Wackner knows about Vinetta’s court (from Marissa) and sounded excited about it last episode. Sure, he didn’t necessarily know which one it was, exactly, but I assume if he’d copied the idea and then heard about a case involving people from the exact same community where he found the idea... his reaction would be different. So IDK. My reasons for doubting Vinetta’s claim are probably based a little too much in things I’m not meant to spend that much time paying attention to.

“I fucked up. It’s in the same court, but now it’s a murder case,” Marissa tells Diane. I do like hearing characters admit when they fucked up!

Diane hears that STRL is delayed, so she heads out to help Matteo. When she goes to change into her pantsuit, she finds that she’s grabbed Kurt’s bag by mistake. “Of course. That makes sense,” she reacts.

Diane pushes her flight to the next day, also telling Kurt, “And yes, for some reason, I took your suit instead of mine, so fuck it.” I love it when the characters feel like real people.

I am not sure why Kurt is getting to the office when Diane is leaving or why Kurt is there—to pick Diane up on the way to the airport, maybe?

Carter Schmidt walks into RL at the worst possible time, threating to blow up the Plum Meadow deal. Another 5x10 to Wife 5x22 similarity: he’s in both episodes.

Liz heads out to help Carmen with Rivi, and then STRL arrives. Oops.

Credits!

One thing about Wackner’s court that should definitely be a warning sign even though it seems noble: he ignores just about every warning sign, like this rowdy crowd screaming WE LOVE YOU WACKNER or the potential interests at play in a case about secession, because he thinks his fair judgement can overcome these obstacles. If the world worked that way, there’d be no need for his court in the first place.

Is anyone representing the State of Illinois in this trial? If not, then... how is it happening?

Dr. Goat, some dude who claims to have some hidden historical document about how Illinois is actually two states, is clearly making stuff up and yet Wackner indulges him and Cord. I feel about this the same way as I feel about the Devil’s Advocate: That Wackner would not allow this to go on for more than five seconds before calling bullshit and therefore there is no reason I should have to sit through it.

Why is some guy screaming, “No taxation without representation” like dude you absolutely have representation. But of course, I’m expecting him to be logical, and the point is that he is not.

Dr. Goat’s Latin phrases—shock!-- don’t actually translate into anything like what he said. Even though this information is verifiable by a quick google search, the crowd starts screaming “Liar!!!!” at Marissa. If only I could say this felt unrealistic.

Wackner asks Dr. Goat to bring in the document.

“You look like you’re heading to the beach,” Vinetta says to Diane, who looks like she’s heading somewhere but definitely not to the beach. Vinetta asks where Diane was headed on vacation. Diane says she’s headed to Lake Como, and unnecessarily clarifies that “It’s in Italy.” She assumes Vinetta doesn’t know that... but Vinetta does.

“So you’ve been there before?” Vinetta probes when Diane says it’s beautiful there. “Just once. We don’t get away often. We thought we’d splurge,” Diane says. Vinetta stares at her and smiles, and Diane hits her head on a basket that’s hanging in Vinetta’s kitchen. If I just write out the dialogue here, it sounds like a perfectly average conversation, but everything about this conversation is so charged: Diane is afraid to look like a wealthy white woman; Vinetta’s pleasantness is pretty clearly also a way of sizing up Diane.

Vinetta shows Diane pictures of neighborhood children and young adults killed as a consequence of gang violence. You can see she’s not trying to do anything other than help her community, even if her methods are highly questionable.

Diane argues that Matteo should be given over to the police; Vinetta disagrees: “The police haven’t arrested anyone for those murders, any of these. Since the BLM movement, they’ve pulled back from our streets. No one’s coming to help. That’s why I started this court. It’s not a joke to us.” Wait I’m sorry did Vinetta just blame lack of good detective work in black communities on... the BLM movement?!?!?! Is there any foundation to this!? Why can’t it just be that the police weren’t actually doing a good job of policing/finding justice and were being antagonistic towards the community instead of being helpful and no one trusted them?? That explanation is literally right there.

Jay suggests the Jesus strategy, again.

“It’s women! We could just move on, install men,” STRL guy says. I don’t know if he’s joking, but ugh. Also, what is RL if it has neither Diane nor Liz? A bunch of lawyers who will all promptly quit when they see their bosses get fired and a few opportunists?

Kurt is watching golf in Diane’s office, and the STRL people love it. Of course Kurt accidentally makes friends with them.

Court stuff happens. It’s not good for Rivi, and then Liz and Carmen come up with a theory: Plum Meadow is stalling the deal so they can find Rivi’s more stable second and make a deal with them instead.

Wackner giving Dr. Goat a single point on his stupid little board, for any reason related to his obviously fake totally unverified document, is dangerous. Why would you signal to a crowd that’s clearly not interested in fact that they have a point? That’s basically egging them on.

I know Wackner’s judgment is obviously not 100% sound—need I remind you of the PRIVATE PRISONS?-- but I thought it was more sound than this.

Wackner shows off his knowledge of paper and proves that Dr. Goat’s document is a fake. Why... did he just give Dr. Goat a point???

Or is he moving the point from Dr. Goat to Marissa?

Dr. Goat sounds like a fake name I would call a character in my recaps long past the point of anyone other than myself remembering the joke. (See: Mr. Elk)

“The truth is ugly. The only thing uglier is not pursuing it,” Wackner tells Marissa. How is taking on a case about very obvious falsehoods, funded by someone with a vested interest in the case, that gets people riled up, some noble pursuit of truth?

STRL and Kurt are now drinking and discussing hunting, while Diane’s arguing for Matteo in Vinetta’s living room. Vinetta is—as was always obvious, sorry Jay—far too smart to fall for this patronizing bullshit. She screams at Diane and plays back a recording (on a baby monitor) of Diane coaching Matteo to lie about his faith.

Soooooo yeah no you can’t do that, that is bad, recording conversations between lawyers and their clients is not good even if it leads to you exposing their schemes...

Then Vinetta places Diane under arrest, which obviously isn’t going to end well for Vinetta.

Liz and Carmen suggest a post-nup to Rivi to see if Isabel is planning on turning on him.

“I’m going to have to kill her,” Rivi says sadly. I don’t think Rivi will ever kill Isabel because we already did that with Bishop.

I’m going to assume that Diane chooses to stay in basement prison instead of calling one of the many, MANY, MANY people she could call to get her out/take down Vinetta because she doesn’t want the situation to be publicized or further deteriorate. That said, it’s really not clear why Diane just accepts being sentenced to basement prison with a cell phone.

Love the STRL man looking at that picture of Diane and HRC. They’ve gotten so much mileage out of that photo.

Wackner’s court has no rules, but at least since it has no rules, I can’t complain about how its rules make no sense!

What is this, debate practice?! Ugggghhhhh I can’t deal with this case for much longer.

Marissa takes a breath, then decides to pursue a strategy she knows could blow everything up.

“Then why care what Judge Wackner decides? Why should you defer to him? Why defer to anyone?” Cord says that’s the point—the people have decided to trust Wackner. “So if you don’t like this court’s decision, you’ll just start a new one?” Marissa asks. “I guess,” Cord concedes.

“So then why does this matter? This court?” “It matters only insofar as we continue to agree that it matters,” Cord says. “So if you don’t like Judge Wackner’s rulings, you can just ignore them and create a new court?”

Good point, Marissa. Good point. (Does this count as a thesis?)

“I’m guessing that I will like the way the judge decides,” Cord says. Well, that’s basically a threat.

Wackner takes a break and heads to chambers—without Marissa.

Kurt goes to visit Diane in basement jail. He’s granted a conjugal visit, which means Matteo gets moved up to the bedroom so Diane and Kurt can have some alone time.

Diane is staring at an image of Lake Como in her cell. I thought it was odd she brought a printout of her vacation destination with her, so I LOVED the line where she explains that Vinetta printed it out for her. COLD. (You know who also would’ve done this if they’d for some reason had a basement prison? Bree Van de Kamp. You know what show DID do a basement prison arc I’d rather forget? Desperate Housewives!)

I love how Diane responds to basement prison by making jokes non-stop.

“I thought the craziness would end with 2020,” Diane says. Nope.

Kurt brought alcohol; Diane brought pot gummies.

I love that Kurt has never had pot before. I was going to say that I bet Diane’s had a few experiences with recreational drugs when I remembered we had a whole damn season of Diane microdosing.

Christine and Gary’s acting and their chemistry really bring these basement prison scenes to life. The writing and directing are really sharp, but it’s the actors who make these scenes something special. You can tell Diane and Kurt love each other a lot. You can tell they’re disappointed about their vacation and exhausted by the chaos of the day. You can tell they’re in disbelief over this situation but also find it funny.

Didn’t Rivi and Isabel have an adult daughter who died of COVID a few episodes ago? Weird she isn’t mentioned in this scene. Maybe from a different marriage/relationship?

Isabel called the SA’s office because she thinks Rivi’s a threat? I think this is a power play.

Heh, Carmen saying, “Shut a black woman up!?” in disbelief in court. Love it.

Isabel instead flips her story and supports her husband and fights for his release. With no intervention from Plum Meadow, this gets the judge to free Rivi. I don’t really understand what’s happened here or why. I get the resolution, but I don’t get why Isabel called the SA or why this went away so quickly. I still don’t even get why Rivi’s been arrested.

Diane and Kurt put up Christmas lights for ambiance and talk about how they never go on vacation.

“I wanna see the pyramids on this coast!” drunk & high Kurt insists, hilariously. “I mean hemisphere. I like the Aztecs. They, they care about people.” I’m not going to transcribe the rest of the dialogue because it loses its magic when you’re not watching the scene.

After some fun banter about travel and movies, Diane changes the topic. “I should quit, shouldn’t I? That judge upstairs? She looked at me like I was the most entitled white bitch on the planet. And that’s the way they look at me at work.”

Kurt tries to say that’s not true, but Diane knows it is: “Yes they do. I’m the top Karen. And why do I care? I mean, I... I could find another firm. I could quit. I can’t impose my will on people who don’t want me.”

YES. I see a lot of debate over what the “right” thing to do is here. But I think we are long past “right” and “wrong.” At a certain point, this stops being about absolute moral truths. If Diane doesn’t have the respect of her partners and employees, that is a very real problem for the firm and for Diane. How can she continue to impose her will on a firm that doesn’t want her, all the while claiming to be an ally? (The back half of that sentence is the most important part.) Forget whether or not Diane “should” have to step down. Forget what’s “fair.” If the non-Diane leadership of RL thinks the firm should be a black firm, and the employees of RL think so too, and Diane just doubles down on her white feminism, she’s creating an even bigger problem for herself and ruining her reputation in the process.

Kurt stands up on the prison cot and warns Diane she might make a decision she’ll regret. This scene is so cute. Why can’t other shows do drug trips where the characters just act silly and have great chemistry? Why does it always have to be some profound meditation on death whenever characters get high?

“I think I like starting over. I like the chutes and ladders of life. I mean, I want the corner office, but then I wanna slip back to the beginning and fight for the corner office. I mean, I think maybe it’s better that I don’t get the top spot,” Diane says. LOVE to hear her admit this. I’m not sure I would’ve come to this conclusion on my own, and it sounds like it’s a bit more about how the writers like to write (you know, the “we love our characters to always be underdogs”) than Diane, but... you know what? I believe it. I fully believe it. Diane LOVES to fight, LOVES to feel like she’s in the right, LOVES power plays and to be making progress. She LOVES winning. The fact that she isn’t just choosing to retire right now, even though she’s past retirement age and has a great reputation, is in itself enough for me to believe that she would find it fun to repeatedly start over.

Plus, it’s a fun new direction for the show to take in season six, because they’ll get the same sense of conflict without the actual conflict. This season’s arc was firm drama and resulted in a firm name change... but it didn’t feel like a knock-off of Hitting the Fan. Diane trying to work her way back into power (I assume by becoming a better actual ally, otherwise doesn’t she just end up in the same exact situation?) should also provide conflict without being repetitive.

Hahahahahaha Kurt immediately reacting to this serious statement by being incredibly silly and horny and then Diane singing “I Touch Myself” to him, man, I love these two. I want to know the story behind this song choice.

Wackner emerges from his chambers. The score is tied. Wackner calls Cord corrupt and notes that they can’t just decide to call Downstate Illinois a new state based on his ruling. Now it’s thesis time!

“I was taken by Mr. Cord’s arguments of individualism. So much of our country has been built on people finding their own way, not being held back by bureaucracy. Yet, if we only follow individualism, that way lies chaos. And that was not the point of this court. Or at least not my point. Judgment for the defense. There will be no Downstate Illinois.”

“If we only follow individualism, that way lies chaos.” is probably the clearest of the many theses of this episode. To recap, we have:

(1) Factions are bad. (2) People are persuadable and the rules don’t actually matter. (3) Reality TV changes minds. (4) Institutions only exist when we collectively agree they exist (5) Individualism = chaos.

But let’s put a pin in this for now and let the chaos of individualism play out.

The crowd does not like Wackner’s decision, and decides that an appropriate way to express their displeasure is to make anti-Semitic remarks towards Marissa and then start throwing chairs. What nice people.

As the crowd goes totally 1/6 on Wackner’s court (thanks for pointing this out to me, Ryan—I cannot believe I didn’t make the connection myself!), the door slamming into the desk finally pays off since Marissa and Wackner are able to use it to keep the crowd from reaching them.

They immediately turn to the police, or they would, if they could get service. I’m sure it’s not a coincidence that as soon as things get bad, they want to involve the existing system.

Wackner Rules is, somehow, still taping in the midst of all the chaos. I don’t know if I think they’d air this, but someone certainly would. (I wonder if any of the cameras we see in these scenes are actually the cameras filming the other angles of the riot.)

Cord shakes his head and walks out, unharmed.

“You think they’ll kill us?” “I think they might,” Marissa and Wackner fret.

“My dad said the whole world would be a better place if everybody realized they were in the minority. ‘No matter where you are,’ he said, ‘Make sure you keep an eye on the exits, and make sure you’re closer to the exit than the Cossacks are to the entrance.’” Marissa says. Love Eli Gold coming through with thesis number 6 (and maybe thesis number 7).

“Your dad sounds a little paranoid,” Wackner says, correctly. Remember how I mentioned I accidentally wound up watching 5x22? Eli calls Alicia and responds to her hello with, “DISASTER!!!!” I miss him.

“He was, but he wasn’t wrong. He said, ‘Stay away from parades. They’re cute until they’re not. And don’t trust any pope who was Hitler Youth.” “What’s that law called?” “Godwin’s Law. My dad said anybody who argued for Godwin’s Law has never been near an actual crowd. Crowds love you, they hug you. Then they grab a gun and try to kill you.”

“Why? Why do they do that?” “I don’t know. Hate is fun. It’s clear-cut.”

I really like all of this. It is a little preachy, but it isn’t wrong and it’s self-aware. And, more importantly, it’s in character. I absolutely believe that Marissa would tell lots of stories about Eli in a moment of extreme stress. It’s nostalgic, probably comforting, and it also helps her feel like she’s on the right side with the right arguments. So, even backed into a corner, she’s still a winner: she has theory on her side.

Wackner speaks a foreign language (I do not know what language but I wish I did) and says, “A guy could get killed doing this,” which makes him and Marissa laugh as things crash around them.

Idk about you all, but I couldn’t really get myself to actually worry about their safety during this scene. Maybe Wackner’s, just a little, but I got the sense we were supposed to focus more on the chaos and destruction and monologuing than on the actual danger. That’s not to say the stakes didn’t feel high, but rather to say that this didn’t feel like an action sequence where you don’t know what’s going to happen next. The point was to watch the court fall and think about why it fell, not to worry about if Marissa would live.

Diane and Kurt are woken up by sirens and loud noises. The cops arrive and are shocked to find professionally dressed white people in a basement cell. They let Diane and Kurt out with compassion, but scream, “don’t you fucking move” to the people on the floor.

“It’s okay, they didn’t do anything,” Diane says. This is, as I theorized earlier, probably why Diane just sits there until her punishment blows over instead of escalating things.

If the cops weren’t there to free Diane, why were they there? Why, because they like David Cord and David Cord has gotten Chicago PD officers to protect Wackner’s IP.

If I had to say one thing in favor of Vinetta being the originator of the community court idea, it would be that it’s SUCH a gut punch to watch Diane and Kurt walk away from their bizarre little adventure as Vinetta gets arrested in the background, and it hits ten times as hard if Vinetta’s only being charged because some white guy is claiming IP that’s actually hers.

(I think Vinetta is probably, at this point, actually being arrested for imprisoning people illegally, but, still.)

“Pfft. Some judge,” one of the cops who adores Wackner says of Vinetta. Racist much?

Marissa and Wackner emerge from the backroom. “I think I better get back to work,” she says, meaning her RL job. "Me too,” Wackner says, grabbing a Copy Coop apron. He’s an employee of ten years.

I don’t think this lands as well as it’s meant to. I think the point is supposed to be that Wackner’s just some guy—not a billionaire, not an academic, not a judge, not a lawyer—with an idea. But it’s a little too neat. And it doesn’t explain how Wackner financed his court initially, nor does it explain why he has basically unlimited access to Copy Coop space and resources. I’d buy it if he were the OWNER of Copy Coop, but I have so many questions about him being an employee.

Diane tells Liz she’s actually going on vacation this time, and they laugh about how Kurt bonded with STRL.

“I want you and Allegra to be name partners. I’ll be an equity partner,” Diane says. “Why?” Liz asks. “Five years ago, when I hit rock bottom, this firm took me in. So I don’t like the idea of splitting this firm in two. And I can’t lead if no one will follow.” “And your clients?” “We’ll manage them together.” YES! I love this. I don’t love it because I necessarily think it had to go this way, but because it’s so refreshing to see Diane say that she actually is willing to take a step back because she cares about the firm and the people there more than she cares about being a name partner. This isn’t something we usually see. When we hear “this firm took x in” it’s usually being said incredulously against someone who’s decided to leave and steal clients (cough, Hitting the Fan, cough).

It’s been pretty clear for most of this arc that Diane and Liz like working together and they like their firm, but that no one (other than Diane, I guess) is willing to let RL lose its status as a black firm, and that the employees and equity partners weren’t going to be satisfied until Diane stepped down. Diane really had three options: Stay and piss everyone off and claim the whole firm for herself, quit and go somewhere else and totally abandon the good working dynamic she had, or step down and put her money where her mouth is.

Also yeah the clients were never actually going to be an issue! They were only an issue because Diane intentionally went about informing them she was stepping down in a way she knew would make them worry!

“I think I need to prove myself,” Diane says. I’m not sure that’s the key issue or that she can ever prove herself fully, but we’ll worry about that next year.

“I missed you,” Liz says. “I’m here,” Diane replies. “I know. Thank you,” Liz says.

Diane decides she’s going to move downstairs so Allegra can have her office. I think there’s another office on this floor, since she, Adrian and Liz all had offices. This feels a little bit like Diane’s in love with the idea of making things difficult for herself and maybe hasn’t fully grasped the point, but, you know, I’ll take it.

Diane tells Kurt her decision and he asks if it was the right thing to do. She says she doesn’t know—but she says it with a smile. Kurt notes he’s going hunting next month with the STRL folks and will put in a good word for her. Ah, yes, because STRL still controls all of this and all of this is moot! Thanks for the reminder Kurt! Diane says she wants in on the hunting trip. Of course.

And the elevator doors close. Remember how closing elevator doors was a motif earlier this season??? It’s back!

Then we get a little coda with Wackner Rules airing a new episode that’s just violence and destruction. This sequence seems to straddle the line between being there for thematic reasons for the viewers and there to show what happened in the show’s universe, but I think it’s main purpose is theme, so I will not go on a full rant questioning why Del would want to air this.

A white blonde lady in an apron watches the destruction of Wackner Rules. She looks concerned. “That was violet,” she says with dismay. And then we see she’s holding a guy in a jail cell in her kitchen.

And then we see other courts, as America the Beautiful plays. One’s in a garage debating kicking someone out of the neighborhood; another is across the street about the same case. There’s one in Oregon about secession. There’s one among Tiki Torch Nazis deciding only white people can own property. There’s (inexplicably) one about pronouns. There’s one with arm wrestling, one that happens while sky diving, and a bunch of others. It’s pretty ridiculous, and not necessarily in a good way. It feels at once like the natural extension of the Wackner Rules show and like an over the top parody you’d see on another show. Tiki Torch Nazis screaming “only white people can own property!” is the opposite of subtle writing. Tonally, this sequence feels more like the zany humor of Desperate Housewives or the insanity of BrainDead than anything TGF has done before (and TGF’s been plenty surreal), and it doesn’t quite work for me. It feels like it is trying to prove a point in the corniest, most on the nose way possible. It almost feels like it’s parodying its own plotlines.

On my first watch, this ending for Wackner left me stumped. I knew the writers were making an argument against individualism (Wackner’s speech + the repeated references to The Apprentice) and cults of personality. But I couldn’t figure out a real life analogue to Wackner’s court, and since this ending was so obviously trying to be About Something, that bugged me. Sure, that last sequence could be an argument against people making community courts, but WERE people making community courts? I didn’t see the urgency.

And then I talked to @mimeparadox. And as soon as he said that it was about factions and people playing by their own sets of rules beyond the justice system, it clicked. I’d been looking for Wackner’s plot to be a commentary on the legal system. It is much broader than that. It’s a commentary on the weakening of democratic systems (the Big Lie, etc.), more broadly, and Wackner and his common-sense approach are just a way to get liberal viewers to go along for the ride.

Now that I understand the point, or what I think is the point, I like this conclusion. Circumventing the system leads to chaos; that’s why we have institutions and bureaucracy, and I think the show is arguing that these institutions should still be respected despite their flaws. The many theses of this episode all come together to make this point (though the reality TV stuff is a little more tenuous and I'm a little shocked we got through all of this without any commentary on social media?): If we stop having a shared belief in institutions and instead follow individual leaders (whom we may learn about through reality TV), the rules will stop mattering and we’ll end up with a fractured country and widespread violence.

But, and maybe this is just about me being upset I missed both the obvious 1/6 parallels AND the point of the arc the first time through this episode (my defensive side feels the need to also note I first watched this episode at like 5 am when I was barely awake), I don’t know that I actually think this episode does a great job of driving its point home. There are SO many moving pieces to the Wackner plot and SO many references. There are so many threads we never return to from earlier in the season, and there’s so much that strains credulity (like Wackner taking Dr. Goat seriously for more than a split second). It’s pretty clear what the themes are—even though I’m saying I missed the point my first time through, I've hit on all these themes separately in past recaps and posts—but, I dunno, something about this episode just feels scattered. Maybe it’s all the moving pieces, maybe it’s all the moments where it sounds like the characters are voicing related ideas that don’t quite snap together to form one coherent picture, or maybe it’s that Wackner’s plot gets two endings (the actual ending + the coda) and it’s up to the viewer to put together how they relate.

I really don’t know. At the end of the day, I think there was a little too much going on with Wackner and that the writers needed to use the episodes between the private prison reveal and the finale to narrow—not broaden—the scope of what they were trying to do with Wackner. But I also think that what they were doing with Wackner was really, really smart and original. I don’t think I can overstate how impressed I am that the writers took an idea that sounded, frankly, awful when I first heard about it and turned it into something captivating and insightful that I was happy to spend nine weeks watching.

Overall, a few bad episodes aside, I thought season five was the strongest season of TGF yet. I haven’t seen this show be so focused in... well, maybe ever. Having two overarching plots that received consistent development and felt like they were happening in the same universe at the same time REALLY helps make season five feel like a coherent whole, and I can’t wait to rewatch it.

#tgf thoughts #the good fight

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