#i found out that AU August was a thing literally two days ago.

[habizuh-studios]

I reblogged one (1) Hatsune Miku related thing. Now, ever other post I scroll down to, there stands/sits/poses Hatsune Miku. All of the art is godly, I don't have a problem with it, so that's not the issue...

The issue is why the FUCK am I getting Miku-fied?!?! Hello?!?!

[narislvr]

HEY THERE, SUBW4Y GIRL

one-last-stop au ౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹ | e.williams x fem!reader

cw? reader is painfully bad at asking women out (she will get better dw) new characters introduced, plot is beginning, literally just fluff for now, book dialog and possible(not really) spoilers, not proofread

nari note ᝰ.ᐟ Hi! I just wanted to say thank you so much for all the support on the first part of this series, it really motivates me to keep going and I hope I don't disappoint! Im not staying entirely book accurate but If you've read the book and want certain scenes to show up then please let me know! If you'd like to be part of the taglist then lmk also! That's all for now, and thank you again ♡

m.list [๋࣭🪻] part one [ 🌆 ] palestine-resources & daily click

"The spark in Subway girls eyes ignites so brilliantly that August half expect her to jump out her seat. "Wait, that's my sandwich! I invented it!" ── page 35

Weekday evening shifts were your favorite.

The lights were always dim, painting the old diner atmosphere in hues of orange and amber, and with how slow it was, you weren't forced to run around hoping that table six wouldn't holler you over as you ran to get pancakes for table nine. It was actually quite nice at times.

Being a waitress at a 24/7 diner was not in your plans when you moved away from your last campus all the way in the other corner of the country, but Millers was nice. The building, despite it’s age and outdated fashion, was homey and even with the annoyance of leaving the place smelling like pancake batter and greasey bacon, it was a place youve come to hold dear in your heart.

Having a soft spot for the place and liking your job, however, didn’t mean that you were necessarily good at it a hundred percent of the time. Sleep deprived rushes particularly, made you loath coming in saturday evenings, but today was good.

The evening had been going relatively smooth so far. In the two and a half weeks you’ve worked here, your mistakes have leveled down to now and then little to mix-ups —not counting wedsdays slip up— and your boss, Eliza, had yet to come in and save the day by placing an extra plate of toast on your tray when you accidentally forget them in the kitchen.

With it being close to nine on a Thursday, work was slow, thus, you found yourself leaning on the front counter scribbling random drawings on your notepad with a Miller’s House Of Pancakes pen in hand. With the scribbling, you mindlessly began to reflect on your week so far; your first full day of lectures went well, and balancing work and lectures hasn't been so bad yet ──but then again, the semester just started. Rent was coming up and you had saved enough to pay your share of the apartment and really other than Monday morning's coffee accident, things have been good.

Monday morning…

Subway girl.

Truth be told, you hadn't stopped thinking about the pretty stranger you met on the train a little over three days ago. Sure, she may have only offered her kindness out of pitty at the sight of your teary face, but it was something touching to you nonetheless. It was something that she needed that day, spmething that went right. You didn't see her on your commute to work earlier today, and a part of you couldn't help but feel disappointed. She was just some girl ──green eyes, freckled cheeks, tall and teasing── you had talked to for no more than five minute and yet your mind couldn't stop replaying her smile and her fingers brushing the curve of your shoulders as she wrapped her scarf around you.

You were hopeless

Eliza comes up behind you, shaking her head with a tut of her tongue as she perches her elbow on the counter beside you. "Slacking off on the job, new girl?" Her brow was arched and despite the edge in her tone, you could tell she wasn't exactly scolding you for it either.

"Sorry," you respond as you straighten yourself up. There's a hint of a smirk on the women's face for a second before she shakes her head.

"You eat?" In the six hours you've been in shift, you hadn't eaten anything other than a pack of fruit snacks you'd taken from one of your roommates snacks in the pantry, but did she really have to know that.

‘Uhm, yes?”

"Liar. That's why you slack off. You don't eat. You have no energy," Eliza shakes her head calling out to the man on the grill before you were even able to argue back.

“Jesse!”

"What!" He responds, annoyance in his muffled voice.

“Ew special”

"I already made you one!" Eliza groans, responding with a "for the new girl, Jesse," in an even more annoyed tone before turning to leave at the sound of table 3 calling for more syrup.

What in the world was an ew special?

—

An Ew Special as it turns out, was a sandwich with hashbrown and some cheesy ketchup concoction which honestly, was way better than you expected.

The time on your cracked screen marked 10:07 as you made your way into the subway station for your commute back home. Atleast tonight you'd get a decent night's rest before another full day of lectures and another evening shift. And with that, you sat on one of the benches under fluorescent lighting waiting for your train.

Around your neck was the scarf from before, this time it being worn to keep you warm rather than to cover a stain on your shirt, and definitely not because it was a gift from the handsome girl from before. Nope.

It doesn't take long for your train to arrive, and as you walk in, you can't help but glance around for a familiar auburn haired girl. And again, she's not there, what were you expecting? She was merely a kind stranger, one of the few you've encountered and have never seen again, why would she be any different?

—

The following morning, you follow your usual routine. Wake up, take your vitamin c gummy and see if there's any breakfast worthy left overs before taking a shower, get ready, and leave the 4th floor apartment to make your way to your station. It was a nice routine, one you wouldn't mind repeating the rest of your days in Seattle with the exception of one new thing you've recently had the habit of doing: look around for the girl on the subway, Subway girl.

Subway girl was a smile lost in the tracks. A girl who showed up, saved the day, and blinked out of existence.

It was embarrassing the amount of times you've looked for her only for the same result, so, in order to save yourself another disappointment, you'd instead focuse on yourself and not look around.

And you don't look around, not intentionally atleast, not until a group of late-twenty year olds step off the car two stops into your ride and you catch a glimpse of a familiar auburn girl.

Subway girl. The flannel she had worn the day you'd first met her sat neatly on her lap alowing for a better view of the outlined tattoos on her arms as her white t-shirt sleeves were cuffed below her shoulders.

You couldn't believe your luck.

Her eyes were closed as her head leaned against the window sill, but as she felt your gaze from across of her, she slowly opened her eyes and her mouth formed a soft "oh" in surprise.

"Coffee girl," She smiles, sitting up in her seat as she turned to face you directly. There's a pleasant glint in her eyes as she looked at you, one that you hoped you'd see forever.

“Subway girl.”

Her smile spreads. “Mornin’.”

Your brain tries to reply with a "hi", perhaps ask about her day, but your mouth goes to say "morning", and so what comes out is, "Horny.”

Maybe it's not too late to jump out the emergency exit. You expect her to turn away, wonder why she'd even tried to talk to you, but instead she snorts.

Her eyebrows raise in amusement before she grins teasingly with her voice ever smooth, "I mean, sure, sometimes." She rolls her shoulders back and pulls down her faded green headphones, the ones you saw the day you met her, before setting them on her lap with her flannel and taking out her Walkman to pause her music. It was interesting, you'd never seen anyone actually use a Walkman ──much less walk around with it── but you didn't question it.

"Sorry, I'm─ morning brain. It's too early," you muster out and something shifts in her expression.

"Is it?" Subway girl asks with what seemed like genuine interest.

"Yeah, um... I had a late night.”

Her brows raise again, and you couldn't help but look away as she seemed to try and guess what it was that had kept you up. "Doing what?”

It's not necessarily a lie, but it's not exactly the truth, and really you just needed some cover to not look like an idiot after the word vomit from a moment earlier. "Oh, uh, I had a night shift. I wait tables at Miller's and it's twenty-four hours─”

"Miller's...? As in Miller's house of pancakes on the edge of the city?”

She rests her elbows on her knees and perches her chin on her hands. Her eyes are wide, and curious, her attention solely on you as she awaited your answer.

"You know it?”

She bites her lip, which is fine, and she shakes her head.

"Oh man, I used to wait tables there too," She says. "The owners would argue about how they wanted to name the place so it would always change until they stuck with that.. Jesse still in the kitchen?”

You laugh, her mind blown expression causing a flurry of butterflies in your stomach. Lucky again. "Yeah, he's been there forever. I can't imagine him ever not being there. Everyday as I clock in he's all─”

"Mornin' buttercup," She says in perfect imitation which earns another small laugh from you. "He's such a babe, right?”

"A babe? Oh god," Your reaction gets yet another snort out of her, and as the two of you meet gazes again you both fall into a fit of laughter. It was sweet, and nice, and maybe, just maybe, meant to be.

"Man, there's this thing they serve there now and.. God, it's delicious. I had it the other day, an Ew special'.”

The spark in Subway girls eyes ignites so brilliantly that you half expect her to jump out her seat. "Wait, that's my sandwich! I invented it!”

"No way! Really?"

"Ew is a play on to my initials E.W," She explains. "I had Jesse make it specual for me so many times that eventually everyone else started having them too. Can't believe he still makes them there. He might be in love with me or something," She quips.

"Maybe. He makes them all the time and it's absolutely delicious, it definitely brings you back after a long shift, so, thank you.”

“No problem,” Subway girl says. Shes got this far-off look in her eyes as if she were reminiscing on the sights of customers and the smells of the diner, but she shakes the look off and lets out an exhale. “God, I miss that place. I don’t know if you feel it but, something about it… It's magic.”

You don’t do magic, but who were you to say that when she looks so wistful as if there was a deeper meaning behind her words so you simply hum in agreement.

‘I don't know how they haven’t fired me yet. I’m not the worst waitress, promise, but I accidentally dropped a pie on a five-year-old two days ago. We had to give him a free T-shirt.”

It takes a second, but Subway girl laughs, loud and hearty before shaking her head. “You'll get the hang of it soon,” She says with so much confidence that you believe her instantly. “Small fuckin’ world, huh?”

“Yeah…” You agree. “Small fuckin world.”

A comforting silence lingers in the air as you smile at each other. Subway girl is the first to break it as she glances at the scarf sticking out of your bag, “Nice scarf, by the way.”

You forgot you still had it with you so you quickly go to take it out and hand it to her but subway girl is quick to hold up a hand. “I told you to keep it and besides,” she pulls out a blue plaid one out of her bag, “It's been replaced.”

You look between the scarf in your hand and the green eyed girl in front of you, “I, yeah�� thank you again, so much. I wanted– I mean, it was my first day of class and i was already late and didnt want to show up looking–”

“Hey, I mean, Its not that you looked bad,” Subway girl counters. “You just… looked like you needed something to go right that morning. So.” She shrugs, and the intercom suddenly comes on, announcing a stop that was barely audible from how unusually garbled it sounded.

Subway girl points over at the board. “Thats your stop right? The one heading to the college?”

Shit. It was your stop.

You realize as you swing your bag onto your shoulder and glance at the girl across from you that you might never get this lucky again. You seeing her again after 4 days of disappointment could have just been the world messing with you, raising your hopes up only to have her leave for good leaving you with only the memory of the pretty subway masc who saved the day and left you wanting more.

“I’m working breakfast tomorrow. At Millers,” You blurt out as you stand up. “If you want to stop by I could sneak you a sandwich. As payback for the scarf y’know?”

Subway girl looks up at you with an expression so strange and unreadable that you feel your stomach drop, of course, you had to find a way to ruin this. Whatever “this” even was.

Her expression clears up however and she smiles again, “Oh, man. I'd love that.”

“Okay,” you say and start walking to the door, still looking at her. “Okay. Great. Cool. Yeah-” You were going to stop saying words any second now. God, you usually weren't this awkward about asking people out.

Subway girl only watches you go, an amused look in her eyes as she moves a strand of hair from her face.

“What's your name?” she asks.

You stop in your tracks and turn around accidentally hitting another passenger getting off with your bag. “Ah– It’s [ ]. My names [ ].”

Subway girl's smile softens as if she somehow already knew.

“[ ],” she repeats. “I’m Ellie.”

“Ellie.. Hi, Ellie.”

Subway girl, now known as Ellie, smiles. She brings her hand up to her face and gives you a small salute as you say her name, a dorky gesture but one you found endearing nonetheless.

There's a little warning bell to announce the door closing so you quickly step off while still trying to keep your eyes on the auburn haired girl.

“The scarf looks better on you anyways,” Ellie winks, and the Subway doors close in front of you.

TAG LIST ౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹ @seraphicsentences @amberputh @k1ssesworld @mikellie @williamellieslilho @boobdrug

[krabjoons]

omg professor... what are you doing?!?!?! [pjm]

⮕ summary: park jimin is the hottest, most popular guy at school. the only catch? he also just so happens to be your teacher.

⮕ pairing: park jimin x reader, mentions of jaebum x reader

⮕ genre: smut, university!au, pwp

⮕ word count: 12.8k

⮕ rating: 18+, nsfw

⮕ warnings: hard dom!jimin x bratty-ish sub!y/n, professor!jimin x university student! y/n (he’s 27-28 ish and she’s 21-22), fuckboy!jaebum, pussy eating, fingering, thigh riding, vaginal sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), dirty talk (carries the whole fic tbh), degradation, edging, dumbification, impact play (pussy + ass spanking), manhandling, humiliation, exhibitionism, creampie, teasing, praise, orgasm denial, begging, overstimulation, crying, kissing/making out, jimin’s a meanie but y/n likes it (aka i go ham on the degradation and edging you have been warned), aftercare (like 500 words of it :P)

⮕ a/n: this took too long to come out and has literally been sitting in my drafts since august but here it is! writing this was definitely a rollercoaster because this was my first smut and honestly i felt like it was really bad at times but other times i was like wtf this is so hot,, ANYWAYS, i’m glad that i’m posting it and getting over that fear of imperfection. i hope that you guys enjoy this piece :). i would also like to add that please don’t hook up with your teachers… if you do, that’s on you i take no responsibility for that whatsoever lol. excuse the title i literally have no idea what to change it to but i like it the way it is tbh LMFAOOO OK I’LL STOP RAMBLING NOW BYEEE ILY ALL

University has never been when you’ve expected. When you first graduated high school and came here, you expected your late teenage years to be filled with just as much studying as high school combined with only a few parties here and there. You didn’t expect to make as many friends as you did and certainly did not expect to be known as the girl with the high grades and even higher alcohol tolerance. No longer are you the shy Y/N L/N that walked through the entrance gates on the first day of school; you’ve changed a lot.

It was a surprise to you. With academics taking precedence much of your life, the freedom university provided you with was welcomed - perhaps a little too much. You quickly learned that polar bear shots were great to keep you in a good mood at parties and that eating mangoes before smoking gave you a better high. And, you also learned about sex.

Admittedly, the first time you had a hookup, it was awkward and messy (at least for you… it was a guy, what else were you expecting?) but with more practice, you were able to get the hang of it. You’ve found your tastes and now willingly talk about who catches your eye to your best friends, something you never thought you’d do last year. 

Speaking of who catches your eye, as of now it’s Park Jimin. A really hot guy, according to your friends, and according to you, an even better voice. When you first walked into your Applications of Economics class, you nearly spit out your Starbucks drink after you saw the astonishingly handsome man with silky black hair in a dress shirt and tie. Surprisingly formal for a university student, you thought, but you weren’t one to talk, considering your current outfit of business casual.

Only, he wasn’t a student. He was your teacher. You should’ve put the pieces together earlier but you didn’t. Let's just say a Coconut Lime Refresher is good for hangovers, and you needed one desperately (basically, you were drunk as hell the night before and were still in the process of recovering). It certainly didn’t take long before all of campus was talking about the new economics professor who was hotter than hell. Girls (and some guys) immediately tried transferring into his class, one of them being your best friend Lisa, just to get a glimpse of how attractive he was. You remember a couple of girls offering you literal cash to transfer out, but you didn’t.

A good call, thinking about it now. You’ve gotten closer with Mr. Park, although it’s nothing too special yet, the two of you are on good terms and have even hugged before (you still get giddy thinking about it). Y/N from 2 years ago would be screaming her head off at how bold you’ve gotten, but now, you can’t bring yourself to care. Park Jimin is a hot guy, and you’re pretty hot too (if you must admit), so it would only be logical if the two of you could hook up. Unsurprisingly, you’ve lost your shame, nothing but thoughts of your teacher filling your mind in your spare time. 

So here you are, another day of university, as monotonous as ever. The only highlight of your day will be the morning, where you have a class with Mr. Park. You've started changing your style a bit recently, opting for more, let’s just leave it at provocative outfits. Walking into the room, you take your usual seat in the front, closest to Mr. Park’s desk. 

The class progresses like it normally does, starting with a review of the work from the last class and a discussion about the new material. "I’m going to give you guys this last half hour of class to review the material individually if you want or you can leave early, I don’t mind. I know it's a Friday so there’s gonna be some parties around campus, if you want to prepare yourselves for that then go ahead." Your professor glances around the room, smirking at you when mentioning the parties. You flush and look away, biting your lower lip. 

You make the decision to stay in the classroom while the majority of the other students file out of the room. "I'll be available for any questions," Jimin calls out, returning to his desk across from you.

Sticking to your reputation, you get a head start on the assignment and easily work through the homework. Surprisingly, you forget about Jimin for the time being, focused on finishing your assignment so that you have as little work as possible to do after classes. You don’t notice your teacher looking at you, admiring the way you put so much effort into the things you’re passionate about. Hearing a student call his name, he gets up to help him. 

Surprisingly, Mr. Park has assigned a disturbingly low amount of homework, probably because of the upcoming weekend and maybe a pop quiz later next week (ugh). You’ve finished your work in a mere twenty minutes and are surprised to find that Jimin is not at his desk when you look up from your laptop. You turn around, looking for him, and see that he’s helping another student. Whipping out your phone, you text your best friend Lisa (who just so conveniently, also thirsts over Jimin the same way you do).

to lisa: hey i finished classwork for mr park and have like 10 minutes of free time now lol

Instantly, she responds as if she wasn’t in class. Then again, she has never been one to pay too much attention to her professors. 

from lisa: ayo talk to him 

from lisa: also save me from bio i literally cannot

Smiling slightly, you respond to her.

to lisa: i WOULD but he’s helping other students

from lisa: then be like "m- mister park, i- need help please" and use puppy eyes 

to lisa: LMFAOO PLEASE he’d be like whats wrong with you since when did you struggle in this class

to lisa: but i mean, anything to hear him talk i guess 

from lisa: god i'm so jealous you have him early so you can hear his morning voice it must be hot asf

to lisa: it is omg

from lisa: god what if he moans like that it'd be such a turn on

to lisa: dUDE STOP NO the way this is literally true like if he has a good sip of coffee or a pastry he likes hes gonna go all "mmmm I wish you could try this" pls its so fking hot

to lisa: like SIR I WANNA TRY YOU or you to try me no complaints

from lisa: wtf he finishes his breakfast before my class so i can't even hear it tf I hate it here

to lisa: u have him right after my block bro at leAST you have him 

to lisa: what ab the people who don't even have him

from lisa: idk what i'd do honestly. imagine not having a literal sex god teaching you every day i pity those who dont

You’re about to type out a response when a smooth voice sounds out from behind you, "alright guys, you’re good to go. Have a good weekend!" You jump in your seat, not realizing that your teacher was helping the student right behind you for the past five minutes. 

As the rest of the class begins to pack up, you pray that he hasn’t seen you talking about your sexual fantasies less than five feet away from him. Mr. Park doesn’t say anything, so you must be in the clear, right? You’re hoping and praying that he didn’t find out, but your heart rate is already rising and you’re getting a sick feeling in your stomach. Your gut must be trying to tell you something.

Well, your gut’s telling you that the universe must not be on your side because as soon as you stand up, he says, "Ms. L/N, can you stay a bit after class? I have a few things I want to discuss with you." Cheeks flushing hot, you squeak out a "yes, sir."

When everyone has left and it’s just the two of you left in the room, Jimin pulls up a seat next to his desk. "Sit," he commands, leaning on his desk. You scramble to your feet and walk over, mind buzzing with thoughts. Oh god, what if he tells the administration department? Then you’d definitely be punished and maybe even kicked out of the school. Maybe you could make up a story? Oh, it’s ANOTHER Park Jimin, haha. Definitely NOT my teacher. Even if you did, they could go the rest of the texts between you and Lisa and you’d be screwed. And not to be petty or anything, but being kicked out would mean that you wouldn’t be able to be in Jimin’s class anymore and wouldn’t be able to see him. Oh, and the bigger problem would be that you’d also be unable to get your degree.

You start internally panicking, heart rate picking up even when your teacher rolls up his sleeves and leans down in front of you. Stop thinking about dirty things FOR ONCE, Y/N, half of you screams, while the other half of you has already started fantasizing about things which shouldn’t be thought about, especially with one of the people in the fantasies less than a couple of feet in front of you. With his hands on his thighs, the ones you’ve thought about riding far too often, he smirks.

"So, I heard you wanna try me?"

You gulp, absolutely mortified that Jimin caught you. Yes, he was attractive, and you would do practically anything to fuck him, but you didn’t expect to be humiliated into admitting it. "Um, no sir! I mean, maybe, but not in the way you think!" you ramble. Shut up, Y/N, part of you screams. You’re only digging yourself into a deeper hole.

"Yeah, sure. Because I definitely didn’t see what you were talking about with your friend. Be honest, Y/N," he says, smirking down at you. "You think about me, don't you? I'm not new to this. I see the way girls like you look at me. I know the way they talk about me when they think I can't hear. I know the way you think. Who would've thought? Little Miss L/N, all prim and proper on the outside, would be so filthy deep down?"

"Sir, I- uh. I-" you stutter out, cheeks burning furiously hot.

"You what? You're not going to try to prove your innocence now, are you? Not when you've gotten this far, hm? Getting to do what you’ve wanted after all this time?" he asks, standing up from his desk, and walking over to you, kneeling in front of you so that you were forced to hold eye contact. 

"You know, nobody else has been as daring as you, my dear," he hums softly. "Sending promiscuous texts about their teacher in the very class they're in. Rubbing their thighs together every time their teacher catches their eye." You shift in your seat, Jimin's words sparking the slightest of fires in your core. "Gazing ever so obviously at said teacher’s dick, too. Y/N, you amaze me. So, so brilliant. yet so, so naughty. You thought that nobody else would catch onto you? Unfortunately, you thought wrong."

"I'm s- sorry sir," you whisper out.

"You're just sorry that you got caught, Y/N. You'll keep doing this even after today," Jimin chuckles lowly. "Possibly even more after today," he adds on, taking note of how his words have affected you. Your pupils are dilated and your cheeks are starting to get flushed. "Such a dirty girl. I'm here trying to scold you, and here you are, getting turned on by my words. Is this why you ask so many questions, doll? To hear my voice?"

You bite your lip in a mixture of embarrassment and nervousness, nodding imperceptibly. The logical, studious side of you is thinking, oh my god, is this really happening? Am I going to fuck my teacher? I really shouldn’t be doing this. The relaxed, easygoing side of you (pretty much your horny side) is thinking, finally, it’s happening. I’m going to FINALLY be fucking Park Jimin.

"What else have you imagined about my voice, hm? How I'd whisper into your ear while pounding into you? Hear me moan as your tight cunt clenches around my dick? Tell you how good you're making me feel? Reminding you how much of a slut you are to fuck your teacher in the middle of his classroom, where anyone could walk in?" he continues, seeing you shift in your seat more. "Would you like that?" he asks.

"Y- yes Mr. Park. I- I would," you whisper. You have to consciously clench your thighs together to keep them from spreading at his words.

"Hm, I don't believe you. Try again another time, darling," he sighs, leaning back on his knees, getting ready to stand up. You don't want this, whatever it is, to be over that quickly so you make up your mind. Swallowing your pride and succumbing to the dull throb in your panties, you pout.

"But professor, I really do want you. I want you to make me feel good and I wanna make you feel good. Please," you whine out. "I wanna be thinking about you all the time because you fucked me so well in class. And when my friends talk about wanting to get in your pants, I want to be the only one who already has. Please, Mr. Park. I need you." you breathe out. At this point, the pressure in your core is rising steadily, and only intensifies when you see the way your teacher's eyes are glazed over in lust and eyebrows are furrowed. Your eyes travel down the expanse of his face to his lips, plump and pink. Oh, the number of times you've wished to kiss them, imagined them suckling on your clit. And now that Jimin knows, perhaps it's finally coming true. 

"You'd like that, hm? God, you're so dirty," Jimin mutters, inching closer to you, cautiously placing a hand on your knee. Your legs instantly part to make room for him in between and he inches forward. "Does dirty talk really turn you on that much, Y/N? I can smell you through your panties," he remarks.

"Mr. Park, please do something," you whimper. And with that, Jimin pulls you over to his desk and sits you on the edge. You spread your legs and he stands in between them. He leans his head closer to you until he's next to your ear.

"Want me to get you off with my words? You seem to like that already and I haven't even tried, doll. Or perhaps," he pauses, bunching up your skirt so that it pools at your waist. "You want me to touch you?"

You nod eagerly, chest heaving in anticipation. "I want both Mr. Park. I want you," you purr salaciously. And with that, your teacher lets out a low growl and presses his lips onto yours harshly. It’s already bruising, but you just can’t get enough of the way he tastes of caramel and coffee and how ridiculously soft his lips are, so you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him in even closer. He seems a little put off by how eager you are, but once he hears you sigh in enjoyment, he melts into your eager grasp. 

His hands start sliding down your waist so that they are resting on your upper thighs, and he rubs comforting circles into them, trailing them closer and closer to your panties. He breaks off from the kiss to look down and smirks back at you before joining his lips to yours with even more fervor and you praise yourself for deciding to wear your lace thong today. You feel his tongue slide against your lips, asking for permission to enter and your mouth immediately complies. 

The feeling of his hot breath on your lips and thumbs rubbing against the juncture of your thighs has you feeling needy for more. Jimin swirls the tip of his tongue against yours, the filthy action turning you on even more. You moan into his mouth and thread your fingers through his hair, causing him to let out a low groan.

Finally, after what seems like an eternity, the two of you break apart. Chest heaving up and down, you take note of your teacher's face. His lips are redder and plumper than ever before. His cheeks have the faintest blush on them. His eyes, the ones that crinkle into a happy smile whenever you answer a question correctly in class, are now clouded over with deep lust.

"Get onto all fours. On the desk," Jimin commands, and you immediately comply. Now your ass is facing Jimin and you're very nearly completely exposed to him, save the thong you're wearing.

"God, you're such a slut," Jimin moans out at the sight. "Do you get dressed up like this just so you can get fucked in class? Such a short fucking skirt that I can see whatever you're wearing underneath whenever you bend over, hm? You wanted me to give in to you, doll?" When you nod weakly, he chuckles, "I don't think so."

Arching your back so your ass sticks out even more, you whine, "professor, please fuck me. I'm so fucking horny, please." Jimin cups your pussy from outside your panties and leans over you, "I don't think so, kitten. I'm the one calling the shots here." Your pussy flutters in response and Jimin slaps it lightly, chuckling. The brief stimulation has your cunt clenching around nothing.

He spreads your knees slightly and begins trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses up your thighs to the arch of your back. Feeling his breath so close to your core has you getting wetter by the minute in anticipation. He finally hovers over your back, placing a soft kiss on your shoulder, muttering, "I'm going to wreck you, Y/N", and you feel yourself clench in excitement. 

"Then do it," you whisper, and Jimin hooks his fingers around the waistband of your thong and pulls it down, so slow that it's almost painful, exposing your heat to the cool air of the classroom and causing you to shiver in response. 

You don't see it, but his eyes widen seeing the strings of your slick connecting your pussy to your panties. He takes a look at your core and his mouth starts watering. You're soaking and clenching around nothing, thighs shaking ever so slightly in anticipation.

He flattens his tongue and licks a flat stripe up your pussy, from your clit to your entrance. He pauses to suck some of your juices from it, but your cunt just keeps leaking them out. He runs his tongues through your folds over and over again until you let out a wanton moan.

Encouraged by your reaction, he hooks his arms around the side of your hips, nuzzling closer into your pussy. He laps at your cunt and purposely avoids your clit, only heightening the pressure in your core.

"Mr. Park," you whine out, pushing your hips back. "Please. More," you pant out. Suddenly, Jimin spanks your right ass cheek, rubbing his hand over the fleshy globe soothingly afterward. You let out a little yelp and turn around to catch his eyes. 

"More what?" he spits out, smiling at you evilly. "My little slut's gotta tell me what she wants. How else would I give it to her?" your mind is foggy, pleasure causing you to lose track of everything other than the man behind you. "W- want you," you garble out, "t- to play with my clit too." 

"What's the magic word, doll?" Jimin teases, breath fanning over your slit, causing your walls to clench erratically. "Please, Mr. Park," you whine, pushing your cunt closer to his face. He smirks at you, avoiding your advances. 

"Good girl," he praises before finally positioning himself just barely in front of your clit. You feel him blow cool air onto your slit, but the temperature of it is magnified even more due to how wet you are. You whine out, expressing your displeasure, and Jimin finally indulges you by taking your throbbing button between his plush lips.

"F- fuck, sir, yes! Right there, please," you squeal, back arching even more. Jimin hums, the vibrations sending waves of pleasure through your body. You can feel yourself growing wetter, your entrance squeezing out more and more of your arousal down to where Jimin's lips are sucking. He momentarily pauses to flatten his tongue out, letting your juices drip onto them and slurping them up eagerly. The obscene noises behind you combined with the low thrum of student life just outside the classroom door mesh together to have you realize where exactly the two of you are doing this.

You glance at the clock, and your eyes widen. "Prof- oh my god, Pr- Professor Park," you moan out, trying to keep your focus. Jimin again hums, making you jolt in pleasure. "I- uh, there’s only ten minutes until the next block of classes start. I need t- to leave in around five." When Jimin releases from you with a pop, you can feel your slick running down your thighs and some dripping onto his desk. You feel a rush of excitement at the thought of everyone walking in during class to see the mess Jimin made of you on his desk and again squeeze around nothing.

"Well then," Jimin hums lazily, "guess you better cum within five minutes if you want to cum at all." He dives back into your heat, tongue skillfully running through your folds. He cycles between kitten licking and delivering harsh sucks to your clit and dipping his tongue into your entrance. You grind against his face in desperation to reach your release, and just when you finally feel it hurtling towards you at an alarming rate, suddenly, Jimin gets up.

He leans over you, trailing a hand up your slick-ridden thigh to cup your bare heat and mutters lowly in your ear, "time’s up." Your heart drops in frustration, and you whine out. Grinding into his palm, you beg for him to touch you once again, knowing nothing but how good he was making you feel just seconds ago. "Mr. P- Park, please. Make me cum," you cry out.

Jimin spanks your pussy, a wet echo sounding through the room. You jolt forward and your cunt leaks out even more of your arousal in response to the combination of pain and pleasure. "I said no," he hisses, "you couldn't cum in time, you don't deserve to cum." 

"God, look at you, you're a mess. Bent over and spread out so desperately for me. You taste so sweet, doll. So responsive, too," Jimin murmurs, lazily rubbing your slit. He's, once again, avoiding your clit and driving you insane. Your sensitive nub is now swollen and throbbing with need, slick with your arousal. 

"Has anyone touched you as well as I do, Y/N?" he asks. When you shake your head, he slaps your cunt again, another wet sound echoing through the room. "Words, baby girl," he goads, fingers dancing through your folds. 

"N- no, sir. they can’t make me feel half as good as you did. I’ve al- I’ve always been thinking about having you touch m- my cunt and making me cum really hard. and I- shit I’m so needy sir, I wanna cum," you garble out, tears pricking the corner of your eyes. You feel Jimin’s hand leave your pussy, exposing your soaked heat to the cool air of the room. Slowly, he pulls your thong up your thighs and the light touches make you clench in desperation and whine out.

He marvels at the sight of you so fucked out in front of him. The way his top student was falling apart at the slightest touches he gave you. And the words you said. God, to have you say such filthy things in comparison to your gentle demeanor, all because of him, it really did something to him.

Jimin finishes clothing you and presses a kiss to the top of your ass and walks across the room to get some tissues to clean up the mess you made. Still perched on the desk, you watch him needily, thighs rubbing together to relieve some of the pressure from being denied your orgasm. "So I really don’t get to cum?" You ask meekly, holding back a sob. "I need to cum, Mr. Park."

He chuckles, "there’s a difference between need and want, doll. You want to cum, you don't need to cum. But what you do need," he returns to you, leaning down so that his face is right in front of yours, "is to get to your next class." Your face, once eagerly lit up in anticipation, has now fallen in disappointment.

Rolling your eyes, you huff out a "fine" and get off his desk, feeling your arousal make your thighs stick together. Your panties are uncomfortably damp and you’re so wet you can even smell yourself. "Can you make me cum later?" you question Jimin, sliding closer to him and playing with his tie, praying that he’ll be the one to make you release instead of having to do it yourself when you get home.

"If you play nice I might. If not, then… we’ll see," he hums, handing you a tissue to clean yourself up while heading to wipe down his desk. "I have a lunch meeting in the second half of the lunch block, so if you really need me, I’ll be here before then." 

You grin and nod in excitement. "Cool! so I’ll-" you begin before the first students from the next class start filing in, making you jump. "The door wasn’t locked?" you whisper frantically to him. "We could have been caught, Jimin! Are you crazy?!"

He smirks at you, "didn’t you say you wanted it that way? Where anyone could walk in? I only did what you asked, doll." You’re left speechless as he continues. "Anyways, you should be in your next class pretty soon. I’ll write a note to your professor just in case you’re late. But get going, yeah? I’ll see you in time for our meeting." He hands you a slip of paper and straightens up, tossing the dirty tissues into the trash can in the corner of the room. 

"Okay class, we’re going to get started soon. I presume you all did the reading, so just prepare for the discussion we’re going to be having about it when the bell rings," he calls out to the class. Turning to face you, he questions quietly with genuine concern, "you okay? Did I push you too much for our first time?" 

Your mind swirls with thoughts. Our first time. The words fill you with giddy excitement. It’s just the two of you that know about this, the dirty things you were doing just minutes ago, very nearly getting caught. Knowing that this won’t be the only moment you guys are doing this, fills you with excitement.

"On the contrary, actually," you tease your teacher with a smile. "It was really nice honestly, but perhaps, you didn’t do enough." You bite your lip at the way Jimin's eyes darken and he looks away. "Get to class, Ms. L/N. The bell will ring any minute," he says lowly, jaw slightly clenched. Your core throbs at the sight and you head towards the door. 

"Goodbye, Mr. Park. Thank you!" you call out, catching sight of Lisa, who raises her eyebrows at you teasingly and mouths text me. Blushing, you nod at her before leaving the room to go to your next class.

Being "one of the smartest students on campus" comes with its perks. Like right now, for example. You always (somehow) come to class overprepared, so when your next teacher gives you a day to work on your project (which you've already finished), you head to the back of the room to text Lisa in private. 

from lisa: dude wtf was that you were literally talking to Mr. Park outside of ur class time with him

from lisa: omg wait don't tell me you fucked him

from lisa: did you

to lisa: NO I DID NOT OMG I wish tho lmao

to lisa: I was asking him for help on the paper he's assigning us and to proofread it and stuff before I submit it

from lisa: omg I forgot he assigned us that shit

to lisa: dude lmao its due in a week or so you have plenty of time

from lisa: ugh literally he's such a hottie why does he have to be so into teaching

to lisa: sis commitment to something is hot

from lisa: omg ur right wait a sec tho

from lisa: dude

from lisa: omg

from lisa: he definitely has a boner

Knowing that you were likely the cause of it, you shift in your seat cockily, smiling slyly to yourself while looking down.

to lisa: whAT

to lisa: wait how big is it

from lisa: ok I dont think he’s fully hard yet he's like semi hard but barely 

from lisa: LMFAO Y/N don't worry I think he’s packing seems kinda thick too

Taking in a deep breath, you look up at the ceiling. You imagine him slowly sinking into you and making you whimper at his size. Him seeing your face and growling, "if you’re really a good girl, you should be able to take it." You cross your legs tightly and rock up and down in a lame attempt to diminish the rising pressure between your thighs and look back down at your phone.

to lisa: pls thats so hot

from lisa: IKR I want him to r a i l me

to lisa: or eat me out… have you sEEN those lips of his wtf

from lisa: on god do not get me started

to lisa: pls i bet he’d be the type to tease you

Oh Lisa, if only you knew the truth behind those words.

from lisa: YES hes lowkey cocky bc he knows like the entire fucking population simps for him

from lisa: he’s def gonna make you beg to cum

to lisa: pls thats hot do not get me riled up in class istg

from lisa: too late i've already started babe ;)

You continue texting Lisa throughout the entirety of your class. Finally, you look at the clock and seeing that there are only a few more minutes till the class ends, you wrap up your conversation with her.

to lisa: hey btw i’m gonna be coming to lunch late… save me a seat at our regular spot?

from lisa: when ur best friend is a teachers pet :(( fiNE I guess I will

to lisa: love u!! xx

from lisa: love you too nerd xoxo

The bell finally rings, signaling the start of the lunch break and you immediately stand up and walk out the door, bidding your teacher goodbye and thanks.

Running into the bathroom, you do a quick check of your appearance. You tug up your skirt a bit higher and tuck in your shirt so that your outfit accentuates your curves. You glance at your face and notice how abnormally large your pupils are in comparison to most days. Jimin has completely ruined you today, just like he said he would. I'm going to wreck you, Y/N. His words echo in your ears as you make your way out to his classroom. Trying to ignore how uncomfortably wet your panties are, you knock on the door to his room. 

You hear a smooth voice answer with a, "come in," and take a deep breath before opening the door to see Jimin sitting behind his desk, leaning back in his chair with his arms behind his head. He scans you up and down, eyes taking in every inch of your figure. "Nice outfit alterations," he notes, patting his laps as a hint for you to sit on it. You quickly lock the door and make your way to him, placing one leg on each side of him so that you’re now straddling his thighs. "Is this all for me?" he asks and you tuck your head down, suddenly shy now that all his attention is on you again. 

"Mhm, depends on whether you like it or not" you smile timidly, hands reaching out to play with his tie again. He laughs. "Princess, I’m conflicted. You do look very nice, all dolled up for me like this. It’d be a shame if I were to ruin your efforts. But on the other hand," he remarks, "you’ve very nearly crossed the line for indecent exposure. What if another teacher caught you like this? you would get in trouble, hm? And what if it were a student to see you like this? What would they think of you then?" He questions, causing your cheeks to burn at his words.

"They would think I- that I’m a whore. I- and that I dress up like this just so I can pass my classes," you whisper out, biting your lips in a combination of excitement and humiliation. You can feel yourself start to throb again and you start to rut against Jimin’s thighs. He shifts you over so that you are sitting on only one and slightly bounces his leg. The stimulation to your neglected cunt sends a shock running through your body and you squeeze your thighs around his.

"Look at you, so fucking desperate to cum. You think that you aren’t a little whore already, so needy for me this quickly, hm? Do you really think you deserve to cum?" He hums, admiring the way you’re worked up. He pushes up your skirt and slaps your thigh just underneath your ass. You shift away as a reaction, causing your clit to get the stimulation it finally deserved. The way your underwear rubs against your neglected bundle of nerves causes you to let out a groan and drop your head to Jimin's shoulder. He spanks you this time, making you yelp. "I asked you a question, doll."

"Mmhm, yeah," you whine out, "I deserve t- to cum, sir." At this point, your hips are moving on their own accord, shifting back and forth desperately against Jimin's thigh. He grabs your waist tightly, holding you still. "Look at me," he commands, bouncing his thigh. You mewl into his shoulder, the change in motion making you lose focus. He spanks you again, the sound echoing around the room. "Listen to directions, sweetheart. Or else you’ll get punished," he warns.

You lift your head to look at Jimin, faces just inches apart. His eyes scan over your face, lingering on your lips. Slowly, you lean towards him, closing the distance between you two. He gives into your eager kiss and you glide your hands up his firm chest to run your fingers through his hair. He starts bouncing you on his thigh and you groan into his mouth. Breaking apart panting, you place your forehead against Jimin’s, moving your hips back and forth harder to increase the pressure going to your clit.

"God, Y/N, you’re so wet," Jimin pants while looking down at the way your clothed pussy drags over his thigh. "I can feel you soaking through my slacks," he says, shifting you over. just like he said, there is now a wet spot on his thigh from where you just were. Thankfully, it’s barely noticeable, but if you focus enough, you can see it.

"What are you going to do about it, hm? I have classes to teach, meetings to attend. Do you want people to see the mess you made all over me?" He hisses, spanking you to elicit an answer. "N- no, sir. I’m s- sorry," you whisper out, eyes clenched, still rutting against him. You feel your orgasm bubbling up as every second passes.

"I don't think you're sorry, doll. Look at you making a mess all over me through your panties. You're absolutely soaked, so fucking desperate to cum," he tuts, clenching his thigh muscles purposely. You gasp and shove your head into the crook of Jimin's neck, letting out a low groan.

"Mr. Park, I'm so wet because of you. I- god, I wanna cum. please. I'm so close," you mewl into him, legs starting to tighten around his thigh.

You shut your eyes, feeling your impending orgasm build up. Right when you're about to let go, Jimin holds your hips in place tightly, preventing you from moving. Squeaking out, you make an attempt to shift your pussy over his thighs. It's no use because you can feel it start to drift away slowly and you look at him in need. Tears stinging the corners of your eyes, you plead, "S- sir I need you to touch me again. Please."

"Well, since you asked so nicely," Jimin smiles cockily, lifting you onto his desk and spreading your legs after stripping you of your panties. You lean back so that you face the ceiling. Your eyes roll back once you feel him take your clit into his mouth. You moan and arch your back off of the desk, thighs involuntarily clenching around his head. 

"God, Mr. Park, yes! O- oh, fuck, please," you blabber out incoherently, your mind hazy and overwhelmed with pleasure. "More," you whimper out without thinking.

Jimin disconnects from your heat to look up at you, murmuring, "Greedy little slut wants it all, huh? Won't even ask nicely for it. Tell me what you want, Y/N. Beg for it, and I might just give it to you."

"God, I- I want it all, professor," you call out, wiggling your hips in search of stimulation that never comes. "Want you to stuff me with your f- fingers and lick my p- pussy and make me cum. Want you to fuck me r- raw with your fat cock from behind and sp- and spank me. Want you to ma- make me cry from cumming so hard just as much as you have from not letting me cum. A- and I want you to leave hi- hickies on my thighs so that if I bend over, p- people are gonna know how much of a cockslut I am, just for you."

"Yeah? Well, I can tell you this," Jimin says, fingers dancing up your thigh closer to your sick-ridden core. "You are a cockslut. So fucking dirty. Most people come to class to learn but it seems that you come here to get off." He inserts a finger into you and your walls immediately clamp down on it. He moves the digit in and out of you smoothly, your arousal allowing the smoothest of motions. "You like that, baby? Finally having something in that tight cunt of yours?" You nod at his question, adding on "want more, sir."

"Not enough? Greedy little bitch. look at you, so needy. What are you gonna do when I have my cock out, hm?" He shoves a second finger into you and starts curling them into your heat. You arch your back to the ceiling and he hovers over you. For a moment, there’s nothing but the squelch of his fingers in your wet pussy and your panting as he stares into your eyes. Jimin's eyebrows are furrowed and he’s biting his lip - he’s focusing on something.

That "something" becomes apparent when, all of a sudden, you nearly sit upright and let out a loud moan of pleasure, "Fuck, Mr. Park! right there." His fingers continue rubbing that special spot inside you repeatedly and your legs start shaking ever so slightly. You look back at him to see a smug smile on his face. "I found it," he chuckles as you writhe underneath him. He leans down to kiss you, lips melding together.

He keeps fingering you, bringing his thumb up to ghost over your clit ever so slightly to provide enough pleasure to bring you close to your orgasm but just not enough to make you cum. You whine against his lips and he breaks the kiss, asking "you want to cum, doll?" to which you weakly nod. "Then fuck yourself on my fingers. Show me how much of a little slut you are for me. How you’re a cocksleeve for me, so wet and needy as soon as I touch you, so ready for me to fuck you." He stills his digits inside of you and you buck your hips on them, rolling your pelvis repeatedly in an attempt to get to your orgasm. You reach down to provide some stimulation to your clit, but he smacks it away.

"Jim- professor, it’s not enough. I- I need more, please." Tears start welling up in your eyes at the thought of not cumming for the third time. Jimin kisses your temple, the gentle action reminding you that he’s not going to do something you can’t handle. "Please, Mr. Park. I wanna cum," you whine out, hips jerking back and forth in a pathetic attempt to chase after your high.

"Show me then, Y/N. how much you want it. A good girl can show me that she wants it bad enough and will make herself come on my fingers alone. She’s not greedy. She doesn’t need to touch herself too. She just needs my fingers to cum. I know you can be a good girl,�� Y/N," he goads. "Can you show me what the pretty little face of yours looks like when you cum? I bet you’ll look so beautiful, even more than you are right now, all fucked out for me."

"Hhngh, sir I- I’m trying," you pant out. "It’s just not enough. I promise I'm a good girl, I swear. Please let me cum. Oh god, I wanna cum." At this point, you’re nearly crying. You haven't ever been edged like this and are desperate for release.

Jimin sees this and purposefully retracts his hand from your cunt covered in your honeyed juices, glistening in the lights of his classroom. "Professor Park, please," you choke out weakly, chest constricting in disappointment. With a soft smile, he brings his fingers up to his mouth and cleans them off, savoring the flavor of you. 

"Be a good girl for the rest of the day and then I’ll let you cum, baby," he hums. "You promise?" you plead, holding onto his arm desperately. 

"I promise, Y/N," he kisses you gently and you taste the remnants of yourself on his tongue, the filthy action causing your clit to throb even more. Combined with the way your cunt is still clenched tight in preparation for an orgasm that won’t come soon, you can definitely say that you can't wait for the school day to come to an end.

"Go to lunch, doll. I have a meeting soon. Don’t think of me too much, hm? Gotta keep those straight A’s the way they are," Jimin teases, pulling down your skirt slowly, fingers just grazing your thighs. He grabs your panties. "Oh, and I think I'll keep these for now," he says cheekily, putting them in his pocket. "They didn’t seem to be doing their job when you were riding my thigh."

You watch him in shock, cheeks flushing red hot. "I- okay. uh, I’m going to lunch now, Jimin. Have a good lunch and meeting, I guess?" you say awkwardly, shuffling to the door with him, tugging your skirt down. 

"Jimin? We’re on a first-name basis already, Y/N? Don’t let anybody hear you call me that in class, baby," he winks, holding the door open and you nod, preoccupied with the little "situation" your skirt just barely hides. You can feel yourself still leaking down your inner thighs, and pray that nobody’s going to notice when you walk into the dining hall.

"Ugh! Bitch, what took you so long?" Lisa exclaims when you sit down next to her with your lunch. You pout. "I wasn't even gone for that long."

"Ha! That long, my ass. You were gone for more than half of the break! I had to tell Jaebum and his cronies to fuck off on my own! I’m not as intimidating when you’re not around, though, so I don’t think it worked. They’ll probably come over again soon." Lisa rolls her eyes. You snort, "One of them probably likes you, that’s why they keep bothering you."

"They just like any female and will take what they can get," Lisa mutters, "but anyway! How was your meeting with Mr. Park? Did you solve his boner problem?" she wiggles her eyebrows.

You clear your throat. "No, Lisa I did not. I'm obviously above that," you say in a sarcastic tone. "I simply offered to," you tease. Lisa squeals and slaps your arm in response. "But for real though," she says. "Anyone that gets to hook up with mister Park Jimin automatically wins at life," and you hum in agreement.

You scan at the dining hall around you and catch the eye of Jaebum sitting with his friend group. He winks at you and you roll your eyes and stand up, "come on Lisa, let’s go. Those assholes are going to come over any second if we stay here any longer." You drag her to your guys’ next class.

The bell rings and the two of you burst out of the classroom. Thank god that’s over. Only one more class left, you think to yourself, gripping your books tighter to your chest in excitement.

"Jesus fuck, since when were you this eager to get to the last class of the day, Y/N? I thought you loved staying in school for as long as possible," Lisa huffs out. You steer her into the direction of your locker, right across from Jimin’s classroom. 

"I'm picking up my books, you dummy. Be grateful I paid for this locker because otherwise, you wouldn’t be able to put your books here." You put in the code and exchange your books while Lisa checks herself in the magnetic mirror attached to the door. you have to be careful when bending over because otherwise you’ll flash the entire school, so you do a weird sit-squat thing. "Geeking out over lockers? You act as if you’re still in high school, Y/N," Lisa teases. "Only during the school day," you wink up at her.

Lisa spots someone through the reflection of the mirror and groans out. "Incoming," she warns, rolling her eyes and turning around. "Wha-" you begin when you get cut off by a smooth voice behind you.

"Damn, L/N. didn’t know you wore skirts this short on campus. Looks good on you," the guy winks. "But it would look even better on my bedroom floor." You hold back a gag and turn to Lisa, raising your eyebrows in exasperation. 

"Wow, I see the originality," Lisa says in the most sickeningly sweet voice. "What do you want, Jaebum?" He chuckles and places an arm over your head, leaning over you. "Well, I’m having a party tonight, and it would be amazing if you two little ladies could attend. Be mine and Jackson’s plus one?" he says. You’re about to say no when he leans in closer to you, inches away from your face, "plus you can get the high-quality drinks for free, not the cheap booze we leave out for the randos who show up."

"You’re probably gonna drug them or something. No thanks, dickwad." you huff out after a second’s hesitation, pushing him away, ready to go to your next class. "Nah, baby. I may be a fuckboy but at least I've got morals. Whaddya say? You get me off, I get you off? Maybe make you cum so many times it starts hurting? You look like you haven’t been able to get an orgasm in a while, you’re so uptight, L/N," Jaebum smirks. 

"You fuckin-" you start to hiss out but you’re shut off again. This time it’s by someone different. Jimin. "Mr. Lim, I don’t think it’s necessarily appropriate to discuss your sexual endeavors while in an academic setting. I’ll be letting you off with a warning for now." He turns to you, eyes flitting across your DIY skimpy outfit. You feel your cunt leak more of your honeyed juices under his piercing gaze and clamp your thighs together to keep them from dripping down your thighs. "And Ms. L/N, I expected better from you. You’re not typically one to do these things in a school environment. Get to class, the two of you," he says, turning back to his classroom.

"Oh," he adds, "and Y/N. fix your outfit. I would hate to see you get dress coded by a teacher who isn’t as lenient." You, Lisa, and Jaebum stare at his back in shock as he heads inside his classroom. 

"Well, uh, that just happened," Lisa states, turning to you. "Ready to go?" you nod numbly, mind swirling with embarrassment and excitement as you tug down your skirt. The two of you walk to the last class of the day while Jaebum calls out, "my place after 11, L/N! I’ll be waiting!", making you wince. Great, now a bunch of people are gonna think you’re hooking up with him.

The last bell of the day finally rings, and you head to your locker after bidding Lisa goodbye. You put your books in your locker and head to the bathroom to fix your clothes. You decide to tease Jimin even more by adjusting your skirt so that it ends just at the bottom of your ass. It’s a terribly risky decision; if you walk too fast, you risk flashing everyone. You’ve tried to wipe the slick off the juncture of your thighs, but it keeps getting replaced with more of your arousal.

You speed walk down the halls and fling open the door to see that Jimin isn’t in his classroom - or so you think. Once you take a few steps into the room, you hear the door shut behind you and lock. Jimin looks at you up and down. "You didn’t fix your outfit, Ms. L/N. Looks like I’ll have to dress code you for indecent exposure then," he hums, heading to his desk to take out a slip of paper.

"Wait Jimin, what? I thought we were- um. You know, going to-" you splutter out, realizing he was actually serious. You can’t have this on your academic record! What would your parents think?

"Going to what? Fuck? Seems like you already have someone else for that, Y/N," he shakes his head, grabbing a pen. You reach forward quickly to stop him, hand, gripping his forearm in desperation. 

"No Mr. Park, I- I never told Jaebum yes. I just-" you try to explain, but Jimin cuts you off. "You what?" he asks bitingly, taking you by surprise. "Did you think that you could just come back and hop on my dick after nearly making out with another guy? God, you really are a slut, aren’t you?"

You rub your thighs together, trying to relieve some of the steadily mounting pressure in your core at Jimin’s words. "Look at you, I told you to fix your outfit and you fucking pulled up your skirt. You pulled it up. You don’t listen to me, talk to your friends about how much you want me to rail you, and yet let other guys make plans to hook up with you. And you expect me to let you cum after all of that?" he continues, noticing the effect he has on you. "You really think I should let you cum, Y/N? I'll tell you what I think. I think I should leave you like this, dripping and needy for me. So ready to get fucked by me but not being able to."

Your eyes widen, "no, please professor, no!" 

"Should I jack off in front of you and not let you touch me? Maybe then would you learn your lesson? Or maybe I should spank your ass till it’s blue you’re unable to sit. Would that work, hm? What if I just send you back to the dorms? You could ask Jaebum to touch you, even if he can’t make you half the mess I can," he continues, pushing you onto his desk. He grabs your jaw and tilts your head up, forcing you to look at him, humiliated, with tears in your eyes.

"Aw," he pouts sarcastically, "is the baby crying? Because I didn’t let her cum? Well, princess, you knew what you were getting yourself into. Little cocksluts like you don’t deserve to cum so easily."

"P- professor, please. You can punish me. Teach me a lesson. B- but just please let me cum." You whimper out, attempting to cross your legs together to assuage your aching clit, but Jimin stops you by holding your knee with his other hand.

He slowly trails his hands up your bare thigh, admiring the way your soft skin seems to get chills at his touch. He pushes you back onto the desk and you prop yourself up your elbows to look at him. "Are you a cockslut, Y/N?" he asks, unbuckling his belt and unzipping his trousers. 

"Y- yes Mr. Park. I- I’m nothing but a hole for you to fuck," you whimper meekly as he pushes up your skirt. He pushes apart your thighs and tugs you to the edge of the desk. "Damn right you are. Nothing but a little whore that I can use to get off. I’m going to fuck you here in school like you’ve never been fucked before. And this dick you’ve been thinking about all this time, it’s going to finally be in you, and I better not hear any complaints," Jimin growls, pumping his length in his hand. "No sir," you whimper out.

"You on the pill?" he asks, to which you reply with a yes. He teases your slit with the pink head of his cock and your entrance flutters at the touch. "But on another note, tell me if you want to stop. I don’t want to push you too much."

You smile, "Jimin, you’re being too kind. I promise I'll tell you. But I did say before perhaps you weren’t doing enough. Mr. Park, I want you to ruin me," you bite your lips, mimicking his words from earlier in the day. He cocks his head in amusement. 

"Don’t worry princess, that’s exactly what I’ll be doing." Without warning, he thrusts forward into your heart, barely giving you time to adjust to his size. The girth of his cock stretches open your cunt with painful pleasure. Once he’s sheathed inside you, you can feel him very near your cervix. 

You let out a shaky breath but it’s cut off as he continues thrusting in and out of you, wet slaps echoing through the room. "M- Mr. Park-" you moan incoherently. 

"Fucking take it, Y/N. You wanted me to ruin you? Well here I am doing it; be fucking grateful." he rolls his hips into yours, hands gripping your sides harshly.

"Th- thank you Mr. Park, s- so much," you nearly sob out, almost crying at the relief of being fucked. You’re so turned on that your walls are clenching around Jimin’s dick so hard that he grips your jaw harshly. Gritting his teeth, he spits, "loosen up, babe. You’re so fuckin’ tight." You whine and try to relax but the stimulation Jimin’s providing has your eyes rolling back instead.

He snakes a hand down to your stomach and under your skirt, circling your throbbing clit. Your pussy flutters at the stimulation and you bite your lip harshly. He changes his angle slightly, causing your thighs to start shaking. His precum and your honeyed juices drip out your sopping cunt, the sound of wet slaps echoing around the room.

"Mmmmh," you moan out softly, back arching slightly. You can feel Jimin hitting your g-spot with impeccable accuracy each time. Doubled with the way his thumb is rubbing circles on your sensitive clit, you feel yourself reaching your orgasm. You try to suppress the giveaway signs of your impending release, knowing that Jimin, in order to "teach you a lesson" of sorts, is likely to take it away from you, so you attempt to just breathe out, "Jimin, fuck, it feels so good."

"Yeah, you like that, baby?" he thrusts into you deeper and harder and you bite your upper lip to stop your moans from slipping out. "Come on Y/N, let me hear those pretty little moans. Let everyone else know how well I'm fucking you, how good I make you feel," Jimin urges.

As soon as he utters those words, you give in, letting high pitched whimpers spill from your lips. Your pussy lets out filthy squelching noises at each of his thrusts, your wetness dripping down your ass and onto the desk. You feel your walls tightening around his cock and try to fight it off, but Jimin can already tell of your impending orgasm. He pulls out of you, leaving your warm and soaked cunt open to the air.

"Fuck," you exclaim in frustration, bringing your hands up to cover your face so Jimin doesn’t see your face, tears starting to spill down your face. It’s frustrating you so much that he won’t let you cum. That he enjoys seeing you whimpering and teary-eyed for him. Your thighs haven’t stopped shaking and Jimin parts them after you close them. He pulls down your arms and smiles evilly. 

"Well, what do we have here," he exclaims, "looks like the baby finally did start crying. Come on, Y/N, I thought you had it in you. But look at how you’re spread out on this desk for me, such a fucking mess. I bet you like it, huh? Dirtying up my desk with that cunt of yours."

"I need to cum, Mr. Park," you choke out, trying to gather your thoughts. "I need to cum now." your teacher’s eyes narrow and he grips your thighs harshly. "What did you say to me?" he asks, a tone laced with dangerous amusement. 

"You heard me. I-," you hesitate for a moment, but decide you’ve already put yourself through enough teasing today. You muster up your courage before saying, "I want you to make me cum now." 

There’s a moment’s silence before you add on shamelessly, "o- or if it’s too much to ask of you, I- I’ll just find someone else to help me do it. Maybe Jaebum? He promised a good time a- and said he would let me cum as many times as I want."

Jimin grabs you by the chin and pulls you up. "You’re such a fucking brat, Y/N." Shifting his hand so it’s gripping your throat, he mutters, "you don’t fucking learn, do you? I thought you were smart, hm? But has the need for sex made you lose your sense? Made you turn into a dumb little bitch, ready to bend over for anyone because you’re so horny? And here I was thinking you were better than that. That you had standards. Perhaps I was wrong, hm? Would you like to tell me?"

You try to look down, away from his piercing glare, but he turns your chin to look back at him. Humiliation courses through your veins as Jimin’s gaze wanders down your body scathingly. "Look at you," he coos sarcastically. "Y/N, baby, you’re such a fucking mess. Pathetic." Suddenly, he lifts you off the desk and bends you over it, cheek pressing the top and ass exposed over the edge to him. You whimper at the feeling of your shirt being stickied from your arousal left on the table from just a few minutes ago. You try moving away from it, but Jimin holds you in place. 

"Are you afraid that everyone else is going to see the mess on your shirt, Y/N? Is that why you’re trying to move?" he hovers over you from behind. "Or perhaps," he continues, hot breath tickling over the shell of your ear, "you want to continue being a brat. Make me punish you until you’re begging for me to make it stop."

He spanks you, the sound echoing across the room before you register the sting of his action. You clench involuntarily and let out the slightest of whimpers. "Fucking hell, are you this turned on? Making noises even if I don’t touch your filthy little pussy?" he asks, smacking your behind again. You bite down on your lip to avoid giving him the answer he already knows.

"Count for me. Be good and maybe I’ll finally let you cum." he commands, spanking your right ass cheek again. "O- one!" you groan. He spanks your left side, the stinging sensation causing you to leak more arousal. "Louder, Y/N. Let me hear you," he hisses, hand in your hair, and pulls you up slightly. "T- two," you stammer. another slap echoes across the room. "Three! God Mr. Park, please." At this point, you’re not even sure what you’re begging for; your mind is numb with lust.

"T- twenty! Agh, fuck, please," you squirm under Jimins grasp. The throbbing of your clit has increased tenfold, and you can practically feel the shaking of your thighs through the desk. 

Jimin slips his hand between your legs, feeling the soft flesh of your inner thighs slicked with your juices. "You’re fucking dripping, Y/N. Look at you. Did getting punished turn you on this much, doll?" He swipes up your slit, teasing your fluttering hole. You scrunch your eyes in displeasure and try to back up into him, only to be stopped by a harsh smack onto your already throbbing cunt. You yelp and flop back on the desk, cheek pressing the surface.

You feel him rubbing his dick against your folds and sigh in relief. Suddenly, Jimin slams into you from behind with no warning causing you to let out a harsh groan. "Ah, professor!" you exclaim, balling your fists in pleasure at finally being stimulated. His cock seems even bigger from this angle, and your entrance stings delectably at the way he splits you open.

"You feel how tight your pussy is, princess? How tight it is for me? Nobody else makes you feel this needy. Nobody," Jimin mutters in your ear after pulling you up. He pulls your head back by your hair, exposing your neck, which he plants wet kisses on. He reaches down in front of you, tracing an achingly slow path from your stomach to your slit with his fingers. You’re reaching your orgasm at an embarrassingly fast rate due to all of the edging you’re been through, so when Jimin finally brushes over your clit, it’s no surprise that your walls tighten even more instantaneously.

"Ji- ‘m gonna cum," you moan wantonly. "Yeah? Is my little slut finally going to cum?" He hisses out at the way you tighten around him. You nod desperately, gripping his arm rubbing figure eights over your sensitive bud. 

"Oh god, Jimin, I feel it coming. Please please please let me cum. I'm being good for you, Mr. Park, please let me cum," you sob out incoherently as Jimin continues railing you from behind. You feel the ridges of his cock brushing your walls and shudder at his ministrations.

"Let go, princess, I got you. Cum for me. Tell me how good I’m making you feel," Jimin snarls, snapping his hips into yours, eager to get you to finally melt in his arms. You feel your orgasm crashing over you and you clamp down on his dick, legs shaking in relief. Jimin's grip on your hair tightens as he feels you pulsing around him, getting impossibly tight. Nevertheless, he continues thrusting into you. 

You mewl, trying to shift away from Jimin's hold as his fingers return to your clit, rubbing figure eights into them, "J- too m- much," you whimper out, straining against his arms.

"Yeah?" his smooth voice asks, "but I thought you wanted to cum, princess? Didn't you? I need to cum, Mr. Park. I need to cum now." He mocks you. “Well, that's what I'm doing doll. I'm. Making. You. Cum," he emphasizes each word with a harsh thrust, jolting you forward.

You're being reduced to a mess, tears streaming down your face and slick dripping down your thighs. You can feel your gummy walls tightening more and more on their own accord, without even trying. Without even realizing it, you've changed from trying to move away from Jimin's fingers to grinding down on his dick.

Jimin, however, notices this. "God, you're such a slut, Y/N. Weren't you just asking me to stop?" He raises your left leg onto the desk, allowing him to have more access to your folds. He slaps your clit when you don’t give a response and you yelp, clenching down on his dick. He slaps you a couple more times, and your cunt drips even more, making your thighs sticky with your honeyed juices. You can feel yourself nearing your orgasm once again from his motions.  

Suddenly, Jimin pushes you back on his desk and begins hammering into you from behind. "You're going to cum again, aren't you? Filthy little girl, didn't you just cum? Are you really that needy for some dick?" You try to hold back a whimper from his words but it slips from your lips. "You're really a whore, aren't you, baby?" 

In response, Jimin spanks you, and you yelp. "Keep doing that," he hisses when you clench down on his dick. "You like being punished, don't you?" You nod meekly in response. He smacks your already reddened ass again and you hiss at the stinging sensation. Paired with the pleasure his cock is giving you, thrusting so deep into you, you can feel yourself practically getting high off the feeling.

Jimin feels you cumming before you realize it yourself. His hips nearly stutter at the way your walls have clenched around his dick. He opts to rut his hips into yours, no longer being able to thrust in and out due to how tight you are. He reaches under your body to rub tight circles on your throbbing clit and you start cumming again, clenching erratically around his dick. "You cumming, Y/N? Be a good girl and let go for me. Get this fat cock all wet," he commands. You ball up your fists and dig your nails into your palms, pleasure coursing through your veins. Riding the course of your high, you wish for nothing more but to be in the moment. 

When you come down from your orgasm, Jimin finally pulls his hard dick out of you. You feel his precum and your cum drip down your thighs. Whining, you rub them together to get rid of the feeling but it only serves to make you stickier. Jimin parts your thighs and runs a hand up them to cup your pussy, pausing to feel your cunt still clenching from the aftershocks of your orgasm. He smacks your abused heat, jolting you forwards and causing you to grit your teeth in overstimulation. 

He flips you over, spreading your legs open. He leans over you, rubbing the tip of his dick over your swollen and throbbing clit, making you shiver. "Prof- professor, I can’t-" you begin but are interrupted my Jimin quickly shoving into you. Gasping, you clench down onto his dick, eyes rolling back into your head.

"You can, Y/N, and you fucking will," he grunts harshly, snapping his hips into yours. You grasp at his arm after feeling him in you deeper than before. The head of his cock nearly kisses your cervix and his impossibly hard dick stretches your tight cunt open even more, making you wince at the pleasurable pain.

"I- oh god, I really can’t. It feels-" you choke out through your tears. "It feels too- oh!" your head rolls back as Jimin hooks your legs over his shoulders, creating a new angle of penetration. He rubs your clit ever so slightly, the abused bundle of nerves pulsing under his touch. "It feels too what?" he hisses, rolling his hips upward so that his tip just barely grazes your g-spot. Too good, you want to say, but pleasure is clouding your mind and you can’t get the words out.

"That’s it, baby," he hums, "taking my fat cock so well even though you’re so- shit, you’re so fucking tight. Are you gonna cum again, hm? Cream all over my dick and make another mess?" you’re being reduced to a blathering mess, Jimin’s name rolling off the tip of your tongue. "Yeah? Can’t even hold it back a little? Even though I let you cum so many times, you still want more? Greedy little bitch," he spits at you.

When you clench down at his words, he starts pistoning his hips into yours, the sound of his balls slapping against your ass echoing around the room. His cock seems to be splitting you open even more, and you can feel every pulse of his dick on your walls. "Fuck, Y/N. I’m going to cum," he groans.

"I- I’m close too, Mr. Park. It- fuck, it feels really good," you breathe out as Jimin leans down over you. He slows his hips down, opting to roll his hips smoothly and brushing over your g-spot with painful accuracy. Hovering over you, his stare bores into yours, eyes flitting down to your lips, reddened and swollen from you biting them. You whimper and tilt your chin up towards him and he leans his head down to yours.

He lets his lips ghost over yours, warm breath brushing over your lips as his hips grind into yours. "P- please," you beg, and Jimin finally relents and melds his lips to yours, bringing the two of you into a searing kiss, groaning as you near each of your highs. You break the kiss to gasp out, "I’m c- cumming again Mr. Park."

"Yeah?" he breathes surprisedly, "your little pussy’s that sensitive that you’re gonna- fuck, you’re cumming already? So quickly?" he leans down as your orgasm washes over you, this one hitting you slowly and harshly. You arch your back into Jimin’s chest, hands gripping at the collar of his shirt. His thumb continues to gently rub over your clit, causing you to roll your eyes back into your head at the overstimulation. You start shaking underneath him, squirming to get away from the overload of senses, but he holds you in place as you ride your high for what seems to be like an eternity.

"That's a good girl," he soothes as you continue to writhe underneath him. "Look at you, stuffed so full of my cock it’s making you cry. Does that feel good, darling?" you nod, sobbing. When your orgasm starts to fade away, spots of white dotting your vision, he still doesn’t stop thrusting into you. 

You bite your lip, and seeing that he’s close, you whisper, "M- Mr. Park, I want you t- to cum too. I- in me." His hips stutter at your words. "Shit, yeah? You’d let me do that?" 

You nod, "want you to fill me up w- with your cum and s- stuff me so full of it that it’s gonna be in me for days. And I wanna fe- fuck, I wanna feel you in me even when I’m alone, professor." At your words, Jimin lets out a slightly animalistic growl and leans in. "You’d like that, huh?" he asks. "Me fucking you so well till you can’t think straight? Putting my cum in you so that when you walk out of here, it’s dripping down your pretty little thighs, making you look like the filthy little slut you really are? You think you deserve that?"

"Please, sir, I really want it," you beg, "please." With that, Jimin attaches his lips onto yours again, grinding his hips into yours even deeper as he finally orgasms. He doesn’t stutter his hips as he continues his ministrations, even though he can feel your walls desperately squeezing around him, milking his cock of its seed. You feel the thick ropes of his warm cum painting your inner walls every second. Each time he pulls out slightly, a bit of it leaks out of your cunt, dripping down your ass onto his desk. He continues fucking his cum into you until he’s satisfied with the way you’re shivering under him.

For a moment, all is still, nothing but the sound of the two of your breathing filling the air as you stare into each other’s eyes. "Um-," you begin, and Jimin quickly looks away, brushing his thumb over his plump lips. So that just happened. I fucked my teacher. I fucked Park Jimin.

"Wait here," he mutters, making your heart drop in disappointment. You nod, offering him a weak smile. Seeing this, Jimin reassures you, "don’t worry, I’m not leaving you. I’ll be right back," and cautiously steps out of the room after clothing himself.

You take this moment to recollect what exactly happened. Okay, so you just fucked your teacher. It still hasn’t sunk in yet, and probably won’t till you leave to clean yourself and look at the marks he’s made on your thighs and ass. You can’t help the giddiness you feel, like a kid who got the best candy bar in the world. After all, you got to hook up with your crush - in fact, the entire campus’s crush. The door creaks open and Jimin returns with some paper towels and wipes.

"H- hey," he smiles nervously. For the first time, he’s the one that’s stuttering. "Let me clean you up. It’s the least I could do after putting you through so much today." He spreads your legs gently, cheeks flushed, and begins wiping off the slick and cum between your thighs. 

"Jimin, you didn’t do anything bad, calm down. Well, I mean you fucked your student? But other than that you’re fine. I really liked it," you try to explain, stumbling over your words. He looks at you incredulously, but shakes his head, smiling. "I don't want to tell anyone about this," you continue, "and I highly doubt you will, so this can stay as our little secret." 

"Well looks like someone got fucked a little too happy. How come you never smile this much when I’m teaching, hm?" Jimin jokes after he finishes cleaning you up, kissing your knee gently. He hands you your thong that he’s kept for half the day and tells you to put it on. 

"You’re still going to the party, right? Jaebum’s?" he asks and you shrug. "You should go. Have a fun time there, drinking and all that stuff." He leans into you, whispering into your ear, "and if that rascal wants to get into your pants, he’s going to see your soaked panties covering up that precious little cunt of yours stuffed with all that cum of mine. Maybe then he’ll finally back off," he smirks.

You blush, "maybe, Mr. Park. You know, you’re pettier than I thought you’d be." Standing up, to face him, he pulls you in by the waist till your chests are touching. You wrap your arms around his neck and he leans in, whispering, "well, Y/N, I don’t think you knew too much about me in the first place." Closing the gap between the two of you, you give him a peck on the lips, which quickly turns into a more heated kiss, lips melding together and tongues colliding. When you break apart, a faint blush on the two of your cheeks, Jimin smiles fondly at you and you look away.

"Well," you hum contentedly, "if I don’t know much about you now, I’d at least like to get to know you better in the future." 

"One day," he breathes out. "One day."

Your grin, disentangling yourself from his arms. "One day soon, I hope. I’ve got to go now, but I’ll see you next class. Goodbye prof- Jimin. Have a great weekend."

He smiles softly, walking you to the door. "You too, Y/N. If you do end up going to that party, have fun. Stay safe."

[simultaneously-sick-and-calm]

Ever Onward and Ever Forward.

»pairing: Man from the Railroad!Atsuhiro x fem!reader (teaser appearance: The Boy!Touya)

»word count: 2.6k

»Part 2 | IS IT A GOD INSIDE YOU, GIRL? (1st OGoA AU piece by @get-shiggy-with-it)

»warnings: Appalachian folklore, monsterfucking (if you squint, smut is in part 2), implied tragedy (mine disasters, death of workers/children), some reader backstory, historical AU 1800's mining town, Old Gods of Appalachia podcast AU, 18+ MDNI

»a/n: This piece is an addition to the Old Gods of Appalachia podcast au that my beloved @get-shiggy-with-it started as a part of a recent BNHAREM collab. We both love the podcast and we started talking about au ideas months ago and to this day literally cannot be stopped. I also WHOLEHEARTEDLY recommend the podcast to anyone that loves horror (/anthology) stuff so please do give it a listen if you are interested! Part two is nearly complete and will be out within the week! Let me know if you'd like to be tagged in part 2 or any future works!

The oppressive heat of summer finally began to dissipate at the turn of your calendar from August to September, and you breathed a small sigh of relief. Heat always made the work more dangerous for all the men that you saw trudge through your front hallway every day, but even more so for the small ones.

Coal Boys.

The Children--whose childhoods had been long traded for responsibility that they should never have been made to carry. A meager wage could be earned in return for days spent raking their small hands through bins of broken earth. Pieces of the soul of these mountains that bled soot over all who dared to tear them away from their great mother. Sorting them, packing them away correctly for later transport to the town below

Every year at the same time, the death of summer—when the small town’s mourning children should be returning to the school yard—it seemed more and more of the boys ended up here instead. Wide smiles and plump cheeks better suited for bartering over the peppermints snatched from their schoolmaster’s desk, than for the toil they found in this place. Skin of every shade and color made darker by the heavy blanket of black dust that settled over cheeks turned gaunt by the first snowfall.

That was the only thing that hadn’t changed after all these years, you thought. The oppressive darkness closed in from every twisting shaft of the mine, a presence that loomed over the heads of everyone in your small town. Something that would never usually hold a child’s attention, but for the beckoning of payment in the form of the few coins they were given at close of every week. Soot-stained and passing quickly from those small hands to larger ones more often than not. Used for an extra ounce of lamp oil for the family in the lean times, or a handful of candy from the general store if they were lucky.

No one had to speak these wretched truths, they were just understood.

Warnings were deeply ingrained into the minds of all who carved out a life for themselves in this particular expanse of the hills. First, that these many caverns and deep crevasses threw lifelines out as often as they signed death warrants. It was an ever present reminder that the world changed more and more every day. Wild places and soft forests like the ones where your childhood was spent became harder to find with each turn of the seasons. As you grew, the green of the wooded hills was consumed by the possibilities of a smaller world. Connected in ways that your ancestors just three generations back could never have imagined; and all of it was made possible by the aching backs and broken souls of men. Many of whom continued their work in one way or another even after the great maw of the mountain had swallowed them up.

You knew the stories well, thanks in no small part to your grandmother. In later years, she pulled you aside at every spare moment and shared with you all the small parts of herself she could. Stories and wisdom passed along by word of mouth had always been the way of things in this land, and she made sure that you would carry those hidden warnings on when she couldn’t.

Deep down, at the very heart of every tale she carefully weaved, they laid in wait. The ghosts of this place, the powers that you knew to be alive and well on this mountain. Things that were decidedly not what they appeared to the human eye. She warned you of many creatures, many a poor lost soul that you may someday have the misfortune of meeting should you linger alone near the great chasms. You never told her though, that you had met one already.

Everyone who lived within 50 miles of the great gap you called home knew of The Boy. What they didn’t know was his name or the place where tragedy had befallen him. Some called him a harbinger of disaster, and others believed him to be a warning sign. Still others believed him simply a lost soul with no real purpose but to bring torment to the already broken families who had lost their own boys to the burning heart of this land.

Always clutching a blue-flame lantern in one small hand, he was thought to have no voice of his own. Cursed in his long afterlife to steal only the voices of others lost since, but you knew this wasn’t true. You knew that the voice of this boy was soft and kind. Because once, when you were no higher than the cattails growing alongside the creek, he’d told you his name. Little did you know then, that your friend Touya with his shock of red hair--not the gentle auburn of family that lived down the road, but a color more akin to the ruby ring your grandmother wore to church on Sunday mornings--and eyes that shimmered too-blue like his strange lantern that always burned, was not like the other boys who you saw in school and at the mines every day. He felt so much older than the rest.

They couldn’t have been so small when you were a girl, could they? Back then only faces that looked older than you passed by the windows of the parlor room--as your granddaddy referred to the small reception area of his offices where you finished your schoolwork in the golden afternoons. It was no more than a dedicated seating space across from the desk where you now worked, having taken your grandmother’s place when she passed.

Had it been four years ago now, or five? You weren’t sure, and that made your heart feel heavy--not that it mattered much what you felt. So long as you were there every morning to open the door and wake your brother from his drunken sleep before your father arrived for the day, you could go about your work relatively unnoticed. You liked it- being unnoticed.

Unnoticed was good when it came to the dynamics of your family.

The old velvet sofa still smelled of her perfume, faintly now but enough that it made you feel safe and secure, even when things seemed to fall apart around you. Everyone said you had her temperament, and you did your best to honor the memory of her presence in the town.

Just like her, you brought some small treat for the coal boys every Friday. All too often, the small grumbles of thanks and sounds of a moment’s content brought a tear to your eye. You loved them deeply - too deeply, your brother liked to say. So just like your grandmother before, you became the community's connection to your family's business. You held the hands of their mothers when tragedy struck, mourning alongside the families of the town when these small lives were crushed beneath the ceaseless march of industry.

It was on one of those unfortunate days, that --upon returning to the offices after doing your best to comfort the wives of a pair of men who'd found themselves trapped in a self contained landslide in the newest tunnel-- you nearly ran headlong into the Man from the Railroad.

“Oh! I’m so sorry sir, I...” you stumbled over your words almost as hard as you’d nearly stumbled right into his arms, but it didn’t seem to phase him much.

Pulling yourself back from a beautiful Azure brooch secured to his broad chest by a green bolo tie, and a silk pocket square the color of the most stunning mountain sunset you'd ever seen, you found a man looming above you that could only be described as captivating.

“Oh my Dear,” he drawled lazily, as though he hadn’t a care in this world. “It’s certainly me who needs forgiving. Couldn’t have something so beautiful as you end up spilled all over the floor, now could we?”

Eyes like wet earth and raw honey held your gaze for a moment, before he removed his top hat and bowed with a flourish, the act revealing a head of rich brown hair to match. He was stunning. The suit he wore was perfectly tailored, snug to his body in all the right places, and dark. Blacker than black, like the deep shadows that sometimes lingered in the corners of your already darkened room at night. It reminded you of the chasms that lingered behind the mouth of the nearby caverns. Voids each one of them, and as such, they stood prepared to devour any light that came near enough to be felt.

This man, though, didn’t feel like a void. He was charisma embodied, seeming for all intents like he was every bit of human potential made manifest. And he spoke like it too.

“I suppose not,” you giggled girlishly. Finally, after somehow managing to shake yourself out of a too-long trance, you released the arm which had been steadying you and backed away. Unable to contain the smile that turned up the corners of your lips in response to the devilish smirk that remained ever-fixed upon his own.

“My lady, I’m so sorry to be a bother to you, but I was hoping to speak with the proprietor of this fine establishment. Would you happen to know where I can find them?”

“Oh, why yes! That would be my father or I suppose my brother could be just as helpful to you-tomorrow,” you fumbled back towards the desk a few more steps until the back of one thigh connected sharply with hard cedar. “Ow! God-dammit!”

Once more you felt a hand take your waist, guiding you away from the offending edge. Not aggressively, but insistent like a dance partner. A good one too, nothing like the clumsy, wandering hands of all the boys you had to suffer through a two-step with during every Autumn’s harvest festival. “You’re a rather fiery one, aren’t you, my Dear?”

“No! I’m just a bit clumsy is all, I...uh…”

A smooth, resounding chuckle warmed you all the way through from tip to toe, but as his eyes lingered on yours that heat pooled itself under the skin of your cheeks and deep in the pit of your stomach.

“Don’t you worry,” he added, the hand on your waist giving a squeeze, and shooting a wink in your direction that could have stalled your heart. “Your secret is safe with me.”

A small act of reassurance that worked for a moment, but also made you all too aware of how close he still stood—made you aware of a void in you, that seemed to go unnoticed until this very moment. Deep and twisted, it left you feeling suddenly as though only he could fill it. Suddenly something inside you was tethered to him, desperate to remain close and soak up the answers to every question that long-filled the empty spaces in your mind. This overwhelming draw was more than odd, seeing as you didn’t even know this stranger's name.

“My father doesn’t get into the office until about seven in the mornings, and unfortunately for you, Sir.” Your eyes cast toward the old grandfather clock that stood menacingly in the corner of the room, before returning them to his lithe form. “My brother is usually passed out over one bar or another by this time in the evening, but is there anything that I might be able to do for you?” You introduced yourself, giving a quick explanation of the way your family has been tied to this particular mine for a few generations now.

The earth in his gaze was suddenly deeper, darker than before as he deftly slid the nimble fingers of one hand into one of his waistcoat pockets. That darkness accompanied by a single flash of something you had seen just a handful of times before when you’d been unfortunate enough to come across the path of a hunting cougar crouched carefully in thick underbrush--Hunger. Embers that had settled into your stomach blazed up, hotter than before, and you stifled the urge to press closer still.

“Oh, my Darling..” came the words cooed too softly, that devil’s smirk lingering now just a breath away. He chuckled again at the hitch in your breath when he shifted slightly, allowing the front of his body to brush against yours briefly as one of your hands was lifted gingerly from your side. “I am certain that there is a great deal that you will do for me, but let's just start with this, hmm?”

A business card—smooth on the flats but sharp-edged all the same—found its way into the safety of your palm and your heart leapt at the sensation of his long fingers curling over yours to close them over the glossy black surface. They proceeded then to turn your hand and pull it gently toward lips pursed and waiting to press tenderly into the flesh of your knuckles.

You stood frozen in place, suddenly certain that the heat you felt flooding your face would consume you completely... Until he finally pulled away, the tips of his fingers still holding surely onto your closed hand.

"Give that to your brother for me, if you would be so terribly kind. And do let him know that I have a business proposition that's just to die for."

Finally releasing your hand, and stepping toward the door he bowed before you again. And with the same dramatic flair, returned his hat to its proper place and moved to make his exit.

"Sir, wait!"

He paused, yet another knowing grin snaked its way slowly from one cheek to another before he turned to you. "Yes, my dear?"

"Who exactly, am I supposed to tell him came calling at this hour of the night?"

"Well, I suppose you can just tell him that I work for The Railroad."

Suddenly you felt that rush of something again. That same yearning to close the ever-widening gap between your bodies, and it made you feel brave for what may well have been the first time in your entire life. "Alright then, I can tell him that 'The Man from the Railroad' is looking for him, if you like. But what should I call you?"

Darkness clouded the warm brown of his eyes once more while he seemed to consider you for a long moment.

"Atsuhiro Sako." The name rolled off his tongue almost hesitantly, as if it sounded foreign even to him. "You, my Dear, may call me Atsuhiro."

And with that, he was gone. Out the door and into the cover of nightfall once again faster than you could even allow the shape of his name to fall from your parted lips. Leaving you there, with nothing of himself but the sleek black card still closed safely in your palm. When you finally peeled your eyes from the void into which he’d vanished, you noticed that the card was not the only thing you held. There in your carefully outstretched hand, nestled safely beside the shiny black card--with its beautifully monogrammed ‘R’ and tracks crossed behind it, was a single blue marble.

[irondadfics]

I’m looking for fanfics where Peter is Tony’s biological child and he goes missing/gets kidnapped as a young child. He is raised by someone else and doesn’t know he’s Tony’s son. I’ve already read Lost Boy and Things I Almost Remember on archive of our own and I wanted to find stories with a similar plot.

WHEW! It’s kind of a long list, but we did our best finding several fics that feature both BioDad!Tony and Peter being kidnapped at a very young age. ENJOY!!

PETER IS TONY’S SON BUT THEY WERE SEPARATED WHEN PETER WAS A CHILD REC LIST

Lost Boy by winterda

Isaac Stark disappeared from a crowded park a few months shy of his third birthday. There were never any signs of him, and no arrest were ever made in connection to the case. It was as if the toddler had simply vanished off the face of the earth. Twelve years later, Peter Parker has a really bad day, which only get worse when his prints are put through the system.

Things I Almost Remember by IcedAquarius @icedaquarius31​

Peter's past is not as it appears. It all starts one day with a genetics project and slowly spirals into something Peter never could have imagined.

hydra's not a home by tempestaurora @tempestaurora​

At 6 years old, the son of Tony and Pepper Stark, Peter, is kidnapped, never to be seen again. Or, so they thought. Ten years later, while raiding a HYDRA base, the Avengers come across a new, enhanced individual, working for the enemy: in black spandex, with a tendency to stick to walls and shoot webs from his wrists, the Black Spider is a pain in the ass in more ways than one.

If They Knew All About You by MsHermia

Tony Stark had lost his son when he was only 2 years old, stolen away in broad daylight with nobody the wiser of what exactly happened. Years later, Tony has just made it through the disaster with Ultron. He is trying to keep himself and the team together but relationships are strained and tempers are running high. Then a random turn of events leads to his path crossing with that of a particular vigilante. They are strangers to each other, or so they think.

Peter Parker is on top of the world. After a few shitty years, losing his parents and then losing his Uncle, things are finally looking up. Sure he lives in a crappy little apartment with his Aunt but he might have just found his mission in life.

------

This is an AU story obvious by some of the tags. I'm starting out a few weeks after Age of Ultron took place. Civil War will be a thing. Other than that I'm not too concerned about sticking to every canon detail and storyline.

Finding Their Way Home by ElliahRose

Peter Benjamin-Edward Stark went missing on a Tuesday. For months the entirety of the New York police department, as well as anyone else the Starks could convince to join, searched for the tot. He was only three when he was taken and for four months, two weeks, and four days, Tony Stark and Pepper Stark (nee Potts) worried and fretted over their beloved child.

Peter Benjamin-Edward Stark was murdered on a Friday. A ransom call gone wrong spelt the end of the child’s life. The world grieved as the kidnappers gleefully told the devastated parents they’d find his body in the morning.

They never did.

Twelve years passed and the family was still grieving, and Tony Stark worked tirelessly to find his only child’s killer and gain justice for his son.

Meanwhile Peter Parker was having literally the worst day ever. He just wanted to help make the world a better place, but instead he got stabbed. That's just his luck, isn't it?

missing, presumed dead by hailingstars @hailing-stars

They hadn’t had a funeral for Peter.

There hadn’t been a casket or a service inside a church.

There had been, before Tony decided in his heart that Peter was gone, candlelight vigils and pleas on the media for whoever had taken him to bring him home. Neither of those did any good. Neither of those brought Peter home.

OR

Tony Stark's son gets kidnapped when he's two. Twelve years later he comes back.

I told you to be better (and you became the best) by HaruK

Tony was blessed with a healthy baby boy, and for once in his life, was actually happy. Until everything derailed and he had to send his son away to keep him safe, because those related to the Stark family, one of the worlds biggest and most targeted families in the black market, always end up hurt. With a new name and identity that Tony himself doesn't know, the young baby was wiped off the map, his existence erased, never to be heard of again. . Years later, Anti-hero Iron Man meets a local superhero vigilante and Tony becomes surprisingly close with young Peter Parker.

The Curly-Haired Boy In The Paper by Svn_f1ower @svn-f1ower​

When Tony sees the blurry, grey scale photograph of someone he thought he had lost years ago, he follows the trail to a newspaper company, to a hospital, to an adoption agency, to the police station and finally to May Parker's house.

hold him tight & don’t let go by jessicagoddamnjones @farremoved

Peter Stark went missing when he was four years old.

Eleven years later, he’s found.

Only now he’s Peter Parker by day, Spider-Man by night, and he doesn’t like the idea that his entire life is a lie.

Rise from the Ashes; Just to See You Again by Mintstream @iwritedumbshit​

Tony Stark didn't expect Mary Fitzpatrick, or the news she delivered. He didn't expect that he would become a father, or that he would actually enjoy it. He didn't expect Penny to love him just as fiercely as he did her.

He didn't expect to lose her so soon.

In the wake of the loss of his daughter he tried--tried to do right by her. He became Iron Man, he was an Avenger, he protected his world because he couldn't protect his daughter, but through it all, he hoped to be reunited with his daughter.

He didn't expect to be alive when he was.

AKA the biological daughter kidnapping AU no one asked for. Hope you read, and hope you enjoy.

Updates on Saturdays.

Coming Home by inkinmyheartandonthepage

AU – Peter Stark was kidnapped when he was just three years old. Tony and Pepper never stopped looking for their boy. Years later, Peter finds his way back home.

A Change In What We Knew by Imissyoutoo @imissyoutoo

Tony scoured the floor behind Steve as though his one-year-old son had somehow crawled to him, before finally, he looked up. The realisation dawned on him like an eclipse; the decaying darkness hiding the sun. Hiding his son. Because his boy wasn't there.

”Where is he? Steve? Where's my son Rogers?!” At only a year old, Tony Stark’s son is taken, leaving him shattered. Little does he know, his journey to find what is lost only begins twelve years later. In the most unlikely of places, and all because of two words.

”Hey kid.”

I Found You by honestchick

Tony had a son; he raised him for two years until someone kidnapped him. Tony was devastated and heartbroken. And who would have thought in Starks Expo, he’d be able to see his son once again?

move back home forever by chasingflower @evahmohns

The results say he’s not actually Peter Parker.

They say he’s Peter Stark. You know, the one who’s been missing for 10 years.

Yeah. He knows.

Soon You'll Get Better by lostinmorewaysthan1

Peter Stark was kidnapped. That was all anyone knew. He vanished into thin air, no traces left behind, when he was eight years old.

Six years later, on one of the final raids on the HYDRA bases, they find an enhanced assassin, with super strength and the ability to climb walls. No one imagined that it would be Peter. Least of all Tony.

With no memory and brainwashed by HYDRA, Peter Stark goes home and tries to recover.

Let This Road Be Mine by CommunicationFlail

Ten years ago, five year old Peter Stark disappeared. When the trail went cold, the case was closed. Now new evidence has been brought to light and Tony will stop at nothing to get his son back. No matter how many fakes he has to meet. His son is out there, and he will find him.

Return to me, the one I love so endlessly by SuperHeroTiger @superherotiger

James Edwin Stark was born on the 10th of August 2001, and for the first time in his life, Tony Stark cried tears of joy.

All the fears, all the dread that had once consumed his soul washed away with a single look at the baby’s gentle features, so familiar and yet so distinctly unique at the same time. Tony made many promises that day. Promises to love his son, to protect him, to always be there for him.

On the 10th of August 2002, James Edwin Stark was stolen in the middle of the night, and his father’s world came crashing down. Shattered and alone, Tony whispered the same promise he’d made to his son the day that he was born.

‘…My love for you is endless…’

Fourteen years later, hidden away from the world in a forest of pine, Peter Beck would dream of a day he might get to see the towering city of New York. And when a wounded stranger stumbles onto their property a week out from his birthday claiming to be a famous billionaire from New York, his dream might just come true.

Once Lost Now Found by FreckledAvenger11

Peter Parker was just trying to get used to life without his uncle. He wasn't expecting to find a familiar face in an article about Tony Stark's missing son. Follow Peter on his journey to discover just who he is. Is he Peter Parker? Is he Spider-Man? Or is he someone else entirely? Just who is he and what secrets died along with his parents in that plane crash?

So He Walks The World Alone by Miola014

This is a story 'bout a broken boy With his headphones in just to block out the noise Of everyone around him telling him the way to go So he walks the world alone Wondering if it gets better Or if he's always gonna feel empty forever So he gets lost tryna find another way back home As he walks the world alone

Or

The Kidnapped Peter Stark AU that I promised y'all!

[kashimos-hajime]

dear... whoever | b.b.

summary: a mandated series of long and short diary entries from the new head of R&D for Stark Industries. 

WARNINGS: swearing, LOTS of fluff, mentions of drinking and sex and hospitals and guns, general fun and witty attitude, small angst, big jealousy, obviously au after civil war. everything after does not exist. pairing: bucky barnes x fem!reader word count: 9.5k

a/n: written for @softbiker​ and 100% inspired by @sunmoonandbucky​ with the format. my prompt was let me love you by rita ora and i wrote it from the perspective the singer is singing it to rather than the actual singer. this was super fun to write. enjoy!

July 31/20

Dear…

Whoever is going to read this. So… me, in the future probably. So, it should be dear WHOMever, I think, but it sounds wrong.

Is it too cliché to say dear diary? I don’t know. After all, I don’t WANT to be writing this but unfortunately I am because it’s mandated. Apparently, the psychiatrist that works for Stark Industries thinks it’s necessary that I write down my feelings and show that I’ve adjusted to working part-time superhero, full-time head of Tony’s stupid R&D department.

Something about how that much stress can cause psychotic fractures in the worst case scenario.

Cute.

Anyway, I don’t know what to write. Currently, it’s 4:23AM. The only reason I’m awake is because I have trouble sleeping on the best night. I heard Barnes messing about and because I am the Hermit of the Rec Room Couch (catchy, I know), I can hear him just walking about.

What the hell is he even doing?

To be honest, I’ve never talked to Barnes besides the occasional greetings because he’s the sort to keep to himself, I guess, and, valid. I’m not saying it’s not, considering his history, but you know.

I think I’m a friendly person, and I’m bored. He’s eventually going to hear me writing noisily because of super-soldier hearing or whatever, so I might just get up and introduce myself.

Not that I’ve been working here for years, but whatever.

I’m really bored and hungry, honestly, so a trip to the kitchen would be considered normal (and warranted) in such circumstances.

Fuck it.

Time to make a new friend or die trying. If you never hear from me again, you’ll know why.

.

Aug. 1/20

Dear Jane,

I finally got the time to write in here and you may be wondering why I have named you. Well, after the conversation at roughly 4:30 AM, here are things that’ve changed in a disorganized list. None is more important than the other. I'm just writing what comes to my head.

One: Barnes said he doesn’t really let anyone call him James. I called him James once because I forgot. Profuse apologies followed. He said it was okay and didn’t mind me calling him that. Now, in my mind, I think he’s just saying this to be polite and really just wants me to call him Bucky but he seemed sincere. We’ll see how it goes.

Two: Barnes was awake because his cat woke him up. I didn’t even know he had a cat but it’s a gorgeous white cat named Alpine that Barnes carries around in his half-zipped up hoodies sometimes. It’s adorable. He’s super soft and friendly and I love him already. He showed me all the tricks Alpine could do. Amazing.

Three: Barnes’ favourite movie is the Godfather. Totally surprising there. Please tell me you understand sarcasm.

Four: He said he liked the name Jane when I told him what I was doing up and also in the rec room (couldn’t sleep, writing in my diary) and that I didn’t want to say “Dear diary”

“Why don’t you just give it a name?” he eloquently suggested and Jane was his answer to my question of “Which name?”

Five: Barnes, or James, I guess he is now, is my friend.

Six: We said we’d meet up at 4:30AM or earlier again because I told him I wanted to show him my s’mores dip recipe.

Seven: Wish me luck. Hope I don’t get murdered.

Eight: I think I might be in love with him.

Bye.

.

Aug. 5/20

Dear Jane,

In an effort to summarize what has happened in the past four days, I will open with the fact that James Buchana Barnes is the cutest motherfucker on the planet. He’s super old fashioned, but that’s a given. He opens the doors for me, offers to take my bags up, and in the past four days, we’ve met up at around midnight to just eat and chat. Then he walks me back to my room with a glass of water and I’m left fanning myself because it’s so sweet and he’s so sweet and OH, MY GOD, I am a child.

This feels like a crush. Like, butterflies in my stomach, self-conscious every time he looks at me, can’t stop staring, and wanting to impress him at every turn sort of crush.

AKA, a middle-school crush and I feel completely ridiculous but that is besides the point because he’s just the loveliest person.

Someone should tell him chivalry is dead. Steve thinks he’s just being sweet on me, and Sam says I should flash some ass just to get a rise out of him which would be funny. He’d look absolutely adorable blushing his head off.

We’ll see. I am considering it.

What else happened? I’m drawing a huge blank.

As explained in a previous entry, I was to show Barnes my s’mores dip recipe. Huge success. Crowd loved it. That’s how I learned he has a huge sweet tooth like me. Got an email from Pep about a board meeting which I ignored. If it’s really important, she’ll see me in person. Went swimming with Sam. We started planning Tony’s big Christmas party even though that’s MONTHS away.

But, you know. We’re so busy all the time, it might be worth it planning ahead.

As head of R&D, it’s vital to me that this goes well because they’re fun when they do go well, and a chaotic disaster when they don’t. Also, I have to find a date but details will follow.

I think that’s it.

If there’s more to follow, then I’ll just come back but there really isn’t.

Oh, Alpine found my room. He’s in here right now and he snores. It’s cute, just like his owner.

Okay, goodnight.

.

Aug. 7/20

Dear Jane,

Sam, James, and I went swimming.

Pro of the day: James is ripped and that man was GLISTENING.

Con of the day: I AM STUPID in front of hot ripped men.

Pro of the day: We got ice cream together. Strawberry for me, mango for James because he wants to try new flavours, and Sam ordered some monstrosity with vanilla ice cream, chocolate and raspberry syrups, and a bunch of banana slices. A swirl of whipped cream to finish it off. It looked like diabetes in a cup and that’s coming from me.

Con of the day: James used his thumb to wipe the ice cream off my lip and my brain short-circuited. Sam teased us about it, but James very stubbornly and convincingly said we’re just friends.

Con of the day x2: We are just friends and that is NOT going to change. I cannot explain how much my heart literally fell out of my body in disappointment.

God, and James and I are meeting up at 2AM tonight so he can show me this new stupid stuffed celerey recipe he learned.

It’s not stupid.

It’s really, REALLY cute he researched it.

This sucks.

.

Aug. 11/20

The worst day ever. I don’t want to talk about it but might as well make a note on it. More on it later, I guess.

.

Aug. 15/20

Dear Jane,

Sorry, I’m dramatic. Must get it from working with Tony for so many years.

Let’s just review what occurred on August 11, 2020, at approximately 3:23 in the afternoon.

I learned that James went out on a date. A DATE. From SAM. When James had ample opportunity to tell me at our regular meeting at witching hour over celery sticks.

EXCUSE ME? WHO IS THIS WOMAN?

I’m not even mad. I’m just angry that the man I became friends with only 2 weeks ago and caught feelings immediately for is seeing other people.

I sound like a raging bitch. I promise you, Jane, that I am not. I’m just the insanely jealous type.

No, I’m not.

God, what is happening to me and why does it have to be James.

I never get crushes and the instant I do, it’s for the most emotionally and physically unavailable person ON EARTH.

Also, work was work. I was distracted, drank soup from the canteen, and generally accomplished nothing. Alpine came for some snuggles while James was out. That’s the only good thing.

Thanks, universe.

.

Aug. 16/20

Dear Jane,

So, I brought up this mystery lady over homemade sundaes.

James seems pretty serious about her because he a) apologized for not telling because he wanted to keep it private and asked me not to tell anyone and b) has a second date with her later today.

Oh, GOD. There is no point to this.

.

Aug. 19/20

Dear Jane,

What’s the point of asking someone intimate, personal questions if not because you guys are best friends?

James called me his best friend today. He says he knows me, but if he did, he’d know I feel like throwing up whenever he’s around and that his stare burns through every layer of clothing until I feel like he just knows my secret.

I told him we’ve known each other less than a month, but he said something stupidly charming about “intuition” and feeling and that this feels right and how he knows he can tell me anything and that I was an easy person to talk to.

I should’ve been a shrink.

At least, my trip to Wakanda is going to give me distance. A solid two months of no one else but me, tech, and new faces. Going there to collaborate with Shuri is definitely exciting and taking up more space in my brain than James these days.

Maybe I’ll fall in love with some soldier over there because apparently, I’m catching feelings willy-nilly these days.

See you on the plane, Jane.

.

Aug. 23/20

Dear Jane,

On the quinjet, it’s fairly quiet. It’s one of the things I love about it. The silent yet soft engines that can lull me to sleep. We should be arriving in a few hours so I thought I’d write. I’m getting the hang of this, I think.

There's a press conference later, too, in the trip with the UN and it’s not that I can’t handle it, but that I could’ve done this in my sleep and wished Tony sent someone else. I hate the press, not gonna lie.

Anyway, this gives me time to be introspective.

Is it just me or James always Okay, is it just my imagination that whenever I try to get close to James, he just kinda pulls away? Not in a romantic way. I’m not stealing anyone’s man because girl code, but he won’t even let me just stand near him anymore. It’s like I have an infectious disease only transmitted through physical contact and it’s just weird.

I don’t know.

Before I left, he said he’d miss me and that we should keep in touch through calls (Obviously, I would) and that he hopes I won’t forget him.

So, you say those things but you won’t even let me even hug you?

You’re a manipulative asshole, Barnes.

.

Oct. 20/20

Dear Jane,

I am so sorry that it has taken so long for us to reunite.

In hindsight, I’m a fucking idiot.

I left you on the quinjet which went back to New York and a different quinjet came to pick me up. I came back like two days ago so these past few days have been spent searching for you.

James offered to help, and he seems normal again.

Weird. Guess he was just in a mood with the new girlfriend and adjusting to having me as a friend, too. Guys go through that, I guess.

In Wakanda, I did not, in fact, fall in love with a soldier or anything. I curse every day that I didn’t, trust me. I’m just as disappointed as you are because I just want to get over this stupid crush. For the two months I was gone, it was like I didn’t like James at all like that. Even during calls, I could pretend we were just two teammates keeping each other in the loop. He talked about his girlfriend, I listened, I explained science because he’s a nerd, and he asked questions like he was interested.

It was FINE.

Then, he was waiting for me when I came back to NYC and it slammed into me like Bruce in Hulk-mode.

James asked if I wanted to meet his girlfriend because she’d be coming around for the Halloween party anyway, and he thinks we’ll get along swimmingly.

He really said swimmingly. He is stuck in the wrong era, but we all knew that.

I said yes, to be polite.

Here’s to hoping she’s a vindictive bitch and I am justified in hating her entire being.

.

Oct. 22/20

Dear Jane,

I met her. She’s small and pretty and mature and normal.

If I wasn’t stupidly in my feelings about James, I’d love her, too. 

She’d treat him right, give him a good home to come back to.

Best not to notice the people fighting beside you in that way, I guess.

.

Oct. 25/20

Dear Jane,

God is dead and NO ONE has eyes on the road.

Jesus isn’t even taking the wheel on this one.

It’s a fucking disaster.

I do not want to describe in every little detail the intricacies of dreaming about James Buchanan Barnes fucking my brains out, so I won’t, but this is for the record that it happened and how the fuck am I supposed to come back and see him in his probably gorgeous attempt at his recreation of Brendan Fraser from the Mummy AKA my favourite movie (which HE KNOWS THAT IT IS?? GOD, the audacity.)

Girlfriend (his girlfriend. “Girlfriend” is the name which she shall be henceforth known as in these entries because petty wins are all I have right now) is dressing as Rachel Weisz. Because “couples goals” or whatever.

I wouldn’t know. Sam and I are dressed up as sexy salt and pepper shakers (his idea, not mine) and he made me take the salt stick because I think he knows. Steve’s not dressing up because he’s more focused on handing out candy as Captain America.

Tony is… Tony. Iron Man and all that.

Anyway, I’m out of town in DC for a meeting with the Secretary of State for a few days, but I’ll be back in New York on the 30th so I’ll have a few hours to adjust to being around James again before he dons on that outfit that I know will be totally hot.

He called me his best friend again in his latest email.

Made me smile like an idiot, but I digress.

.

Nov. 1/20

Dear Jane,

Halloween was killer. Sam and I won best duo for costumes because we’re that good. Ate a lot of candy and it seems to be looking up.

I dunno. I didn’t mind James and Girlfriend on the couch that much in the after-party. Mostly stuck by Nat and Sharon and Tony. An ood trio, but a fun one nonetheless.

It was fun, but I still have to go to work no matter how many jello shots and vodka gummy bears consumed.

Wish me luck, not that I need it.

Why do you think Tony hired me?

.

Nov. 4/20

Dear Jane.

Natasha said I smile at James in a way that utterly betrays every emotion I want to hide in my chest.

Note to self: Don’t smile at James, or at his jokes, or at anything he ever does again. Avoid him. Put a stopper on this friendship.

Note to note to self: I can’t. He just makes me smile whenever he’s around and he’s always around. There’s no simpler way to put it.

I’m gonna try this hiatus thing, though. Distance myself a bit. We’ll see how it goes.

.

Nov. 13/20

Dear Jane,

Day nine of this hiatus business and it sucks. I miss my best friend.

We’re scheduled for a mission together, and we’re leaving tomorrow so I was going to have to talk to him during the briefing and the op either way.

Well, glad to know this didn’t work.

.

Nov. 15/20

Dear Jane,

Guess who just got fucking shot!

ME!

Guess even scumbags can’t take a holiday because some stupid arms dealer got a cheap shot on me while I was downloading their whole computer system and other tech mumbo-jumbo I am too high to write about.

James left a few hours ago with the rest of the team, but not before he got me a bunch of ice chips and said he was worried and that he hopes I get better soon. He even promised to get me some flowers to spruce up the room and to say my HEART went CRAZY is an understatement.

He came to my rescue, essentially, as soon as he heard I got pinned. He carried me to the quinjet the instant he cleared the area and stayed by my side the whole time even though the bleeding stopped and I was in good hands. He was just so protective, barking at doctors and nurses. It was embarrassing but also really, really sweet.

Is it weird of me to say that I want him to stay by my side forever? 

I’ve never fallen in love before.

Is it always this fast and this hard? I feel like I’m crashing instead of gently and wonderfully falling. Everything is dumb and awful.

Is this what love is like? Because it hurts worse than getting shot because I think I’m going to vomit flowers or butterflies or something.

God, he’d never love me. We’re just friends and even though we have a lot in common, he’d never. It’s just too much of the past in the present or whatever.

Also, he has a girlfriend but it seems very surface-level. God, that makes me sound like a “one of the boys” type of girl who’s a bitch to one of the boy’s new girlfriends, but I don’t know. James told me they don’t really talk about the deep stuff like we do. But she makes him happy, I think.

In hindsight, one may ask what the deep stuff is.

More on that later. I’m tired.

God, why him?

I HATE THIS.

goodnight.

.

Nov. 16/20

Dear Jane,

James visited again today. He sat beside me and we talked until the nurses had to kick him out. He also brought the flowers.

I asked about Girlfriend casually. I said I liked her.

He said he did, too.

I don’t know why I think he’s lying. No, I do.

It’s because jealousy is the green-eyed bitch from highschool who still shows up in my life because she thinks she’s relevant to society.

That was mean. Unrequited love makes you mean. Side effect noted.

P.S. The deep stuff includes his past, his arm, his memory, his favourite colour. I dunno why that matters. It just does.

.

Nov. 17/20

Dear Jane,

Got out of the hospital today because of advanced technology and all that. Nothing’s left but a scar and residual soreness. James helped me to my room and said to call him if I had a problem.

I joked that he has a girlfriend and for some reason, he got really weird about it. It’s hard to describe. I dunno. Nat dropped by for popcorn and movies.

It’s 2:32AM. I’m wondering if he’s in the kitchen but I’m confined to bed rest so I don’t know. Also, Nat is asleep beside me and I don’t want to bother her.

Hopefully I can get up and move in a few days. Life is boring.

.

Nov. 24/20

Dear Jane,

Sorry we haven’t caught up in a moment. Work’s been hectic and I’ve been working overtime trying to make ends meet. Most days I’m in the office or lab, just trying to get enough things done so I can take time off come Christmas.

James stopped by tonight with Chinese takeout and some sweet buns.

He broke up with his girlfriend, too.

Guess that’s why he was being weird about it.

I tried being as casual as I could asking why, but he didn’t want to talk about it, so I asked why he came by. Couldn’t be for the company because when I’m in work mode, I just don’t talk and he knows that.

He said something about his arm feeling funny so I gave it a quick diagnostics check.

I think both of us knew his arm was feeling fine.

Everything is stupid, life is meaningless, and James’ lips are the prettiest shade of pink in the ugly lights of the lab.

I would very much like to have kissed him, but I didn’t.

Girl code.

It’ll probably be a while before I get another chance to actually have time and energy to write another diary entry. Christmas season’s coming close and Pepper is gonna need help with the party.

Yay, me.

.

Dec. 4/20

Dear Jane,

Morgan asked me in less eloquent words if I had a boyfriend (it was more like “You boyfriend?” But whatever. Who even taught her that word?) and I swear to GOD Nat could not make it anymore obvious looking at James.

Remind me to absolutely throttle her. I don’t care if she’s the infamous Black Widow. She has clearly never seen me hopped up on nothing but a negative amount of sleep and rage/embarrassment/spite/all of the above.

On another note, Pep asked if I was bringing a plus one for the party. I said I’d think about it. Normally I’d just take Sam but he has his eyes on someone at the VA and I like my friends getting laid so no go there.

Might just go alone. I don’t know.

Pep said I should take James, but I don’t really think she knows the truth about that situation. Luckily, Tony instantly rejected the idea and said he’d find me a date if I couldn’t.

Thank the universe for at least placing me in the close circle of the most well-known and richest man in the world because he also gave me his card and said go wild.

He knows me so well. I’m thinking about Christmas shopping when I have another free day, and I’ll pay for that with my own money, of course, but clothes shopping is a free market.

I cannot wait.

.

Dec. 12/20

Dear Jane,

I wish I could show you my haul, but I got so much stuff Happy had to drive to help me. Besides obvious gifts, I also managed to snag a gorgeous dress for the party.

Thoughts on black and gold?

I think it’s beautiful. Hopefully Nat and Sharon think so. We’re having a girls night tonight and showing off outfits, so that’s exciting.

James asked if we could meet up tonight.

I told him I had plans and he looked so downcast.

I dunno. Everything feels weird between us. Like we’re fine, we’re best friends still, but something’s changed when no one was looking. He’s single now. I guess that energy is different because I had gotten used to his energy with ex-Girlfriend.

I don’t exactly mind but it’s not ideal either. I miss summer. It’s much less complicated than winter. Winter, one has to worry about wind and chills and snows blocking roads, black ice, dry skin, freezing fingers.

Summer: there’s just a lot of sun, wind, bugs, and the vaguest notion of being bored.

Look, I love winter. It’s my favourite season. It’s quiet and gorgeous and dreamy, even though it gets dreary in New York. The snow falls slowly sometimes, Christmas is gorgeous here, and I’d rather be cold than sweating buckets, and there are no bugs to bother me. Also, it gives me a good reason to stay in the labs or in my room where it’s warm and toasty.

I just miss the relative simplicity when James and I were just strangers on the edge of being friends, which is, in retrospect, a selfish reason to like one season and hate another.

Well, some philosopher somewhere probably said something about humanity being selfish.

.

Dec. 16/20

Dear Jane,

T-minus nine days until the party.

No date in sight.

Maybe I’ll ask Anderson from HR. We had coffee together a few times and he’s nice. Good catch: smart, not too bad looking, and really nice. I’ll head down tomorrow and ask.

Alpine had purred when I told him my plan and headbutted my hand, so I guess I got the Alpine-Seal-of-Approval.

.

Dec. 17/20

Dear Jane,

Operation: Ask Anderson from HR to Tony’s Christmas Party failed. Granted, it could’ve been because that was a god awful title and that that name, in itself, prophesied catastrophic failure, but also because I was accosted by my best friend.

I wish I meant Sam.

Nope. James caught me in the elevator and we made small talk. Sounds fine, right? Then we turned the topic to the party. Talked about clothes and prospective celebrity appearances and drinks and food. Just about everything, so might as well turn to talks about dates, which meant I had to explain why I was in the elevator in the first place.

Going down to ask Anderson ended in James revealing that he didn’t have a date either.

He doesn’t know who Anderson is, which I thought would be the case, and he popped the question before the doors opened.

Notice how I said “didn't” have a date.

Guess who’s going to the party with James, clearly stated as friends, platonic soulmates, etc.?

Me.

Yippee.

.

Dec. 18/20

Dear Jane,

It’s 3:42AM and I’m in the rec room as usual. I was gonna not write here today but it normally helps me sleep to just write a bit, get what little thoughts are in my head out. Yeah.

I hear James in the kitchen talking to Alpine and it’s making me smile like an idiot.

Oh, shit, he knows I’m in here. He’s making milkshakes.

I am morally obligated by best friend duties to join him.

Goodnight, Jane.

.

Dec. 24/20

Dear Jane,

I’m not sleeping with James Buchanan Barnes tomorrow night.

This is a resolute promise. An early New Year’s resolution.

.

Dec. 25/20

Dear Jane,

Merry Christmas! 

In between jovial festivities, I’ve finally found a little nook that’s quiet enough to write in. We opened presents, had a big family breakfast, went skating and just lounged around, and frankly, I’m exhausted. Need to recharge the old social battery.

Among the assortment of gifts is one that stands out to me. James got me a gift that said “Open When Alone” and I did before I started this entry and it was a fucking necklace. Like, a gorgeous one. It’s gold and thin and it feels wonderful. There’s a little cat paw charm on it and it’s so pretty because he has a matching bracelet for himself and I have still not yet recovered.

It’s just so sweet and it reminds me why I love him.

Yes, love has made me unbelievably sappy. I just heaved the biggest sigh in history.

Unfortunately, I have to go earlier tonight. To the party, as written in previous entries. I remember my oath of one-night celibacy and I intend on keeping it, despite how fucking endearing this gift was, because he said it best: we’re just friends. I’m not about to coerce my best friend into sleeping with me out of a piteous, unrequited love. That’s just gross.

You will either see me hungover tomorrow, or very drunk later tonight. It’s all very depending on how this night turns out.

.

Dec. 26/20

Dear Jane,

Fuck.

P.S. He REALLY does not mind me calling him James. Take that as dirtily or as clandestinely as you wish.

.

Dec. 27/20

Dear Jane,

I spent the entire day in bed with very pleasurable company.

I am SO GLAD we haven’t gotten called in because James doesn’t leave unless to go to sleep in his own bed or to eat, and I do NOT want to explain to the team that James fucked my brains out for two days straight because my heart is bursting.

He’s a good kisser. His lips are soft.

Intimate knowledge of that is now burned into my memory for future reference.

God, this is a dream come true. He doesn’t even question it, he just

It’s like I’m a goddess to him. He treats me like one, at least, and it’s like he’ll do anything I ask. And we act like it’s normal, too. Midnight trips to the kitchen included.

Best Christmas ever.

.

Dec. 28/20

Dear Jane,

I feel like I’m ignoring you but I’m also having the best sex of my life. He’s just… so fucking good and it’s a holiday and holy shit my mind is blown.

Love at first meeting isn’t real.

Well, maybe this one time, it was destiny.

.

Dec. 29/20

Dear Jane,

It isn’t just the sex, you know? It’s the pillowtalk, too. He just makes me laugh so much and everything is so easy between us and it feels real. Popcorn and chips in bed, some mojitos, just each other’s presence. It’s enough like that, you know?

Some quote about how the one you love should be both your lover and your best friend is in my head but I’m too lazy to look it up. James’ head is in my lap and he’s just reading while I’m writing and everything seems perfect.

He doesn’t ask what I’m writing because he knows it’s private and I trust him.

This is perfect.

I think I really am IN love with him.

.

Jan. 1/21

You know that cliché/tradition of New Year’s kisses?

WELL THEN.

Best (and worst) New Year’s ever. I’ll explain more later. I’m too tired and too angry and also sore and bruised.

See you when I’m not hungover.

.

Jan. 5/21

Dear Jane,

I’m finally stable enough to write.

In a crazy turn of events, Barnes and I got into a fight because of what happened after New Year’s Day’s events: I caught him leaving before I woke up and at first, curious questions ensued, and it wasn’t a fight but then it became one and I don’t even know how it happened. I wasn’t even mad. He just started being weird and I got annoyed and we tried and failed to keep our voices down. Luckily, my room is pretty soundproof.

Things just got out of hand and I feel like tearing my hair out. I wanna storm up to him and just yell some more.

Tony came into my room and didn’t say shit about my hickies and the fact that James is avoiding me like the plague. He gave me a really good hug, though and then gave me a few weeks off extra. I don’t know how he knows, but then again, it’s Tony.

He just said love’s tough sometimes.

Yeah, tell me about it.

I’m thinking about just taking a long vacation and disappearing. It seems like a good route to take at this point.

.

Jan. 6/21

Dear Jane,

James is looking at me right now as I write this. I wonder if I should look back or if he’s going to come up to me. We’ll see.

I’m only writing this so it seems like I’m busy. I’m running out of things to say, honestly. Can he just go? What’s the point in staring like that? What’s the point?

I could ask myself the same question. What’s the point in loving someone who’ll never love you? Yeah, he’s sleeping with me but he pulls away every time I try to do something more. Outside the bubble of my room and the small time frame of post-11PM to around 4:45AM, he acts like he’s allergic to intimacy.

It was never like that with ex-Girlfriend.

Maybe it’s something to do with me.

I don’t know, but he keeps looking and I want to get up and leave, but I won’t. I’m not gonna let him win.

.

Jan. 6/21

He didn’t. He just went out. Sam and Steve asked if I was okay because as soon as he left, I got up for the bathroom and screamed into a towel.

I don’t think either of them knows what’s going on, but they have a notion.

.

Jan. 9/21

Dear Jane,

He apologized. Still no explanation as to why, but it feels weird.

I told him I’m going on a vacation to Switzerland. Go skiing or something and asked if he wanted to come.

It was stupid to ask, but he said yes.

Shit.

.

Jan. 14/21

Dear Jane,

Switzerland is lovely.

No work is relaxing. Awkwardness between me and the other traveller on this vacation. Weather’s supposed to be nice when we get there. Sunny snow days, pretty mountains, other Swiss things.

No other comment.

.

Jan. 21/21

Dear Jane,

I lasted all of a week.

Yep, I slept with him again, and yes, he was back in his hotel bed come sunrise.

I dunno. I’m over it. We don’t apologize and hope everything gets back to normal because neither of us want to say anything to ruin it any further and we both have a major fear of the complicated. To be fair, he said he didn’t want to sleep with me if I was completely against it.

Also, I tried calling him Bucky at dinner like ex-Girlfriend (and everyone else) does and he made the most disgusted face.

He said, and I quote, “Bucky? When did I stop being James?”

I told him I was trying something out and he said it failed. Snarky bastard.

I guess if he’s still James, that must mean I’m still special.

That’s the Tony-inherited ego talking.

But it does make me exceptionally happy to play with the idea that I’m special to him. Best friend with convoluted benefits. Sounds like the title of a very long-winded self-help book that doesn’t really help much but that does sound like the story of my life so I can’t complain too much.

We’re going home in a few days.

I’ll probably sleep with him again. Bet Steve’s shield that I do.

.

Jan. 24/21

Dear Jane,

I get three Steve’s shields because I was right every single fucking day.

He’s like a habit I can’t quite kick and don’t really want to.

We snuggled afterwards last night. His arm was around my shoulders, we were naked, I was resting my head on his chest. For a moment, it felt like something couples do and then I fell asleep and woke up alone.

Quantum physics is easier to understand than this but I think we’re being mutually exclusive right now, so it’s almost dating.

I dunno. I don’t mind it anymore. It’s better than nothing.

.

Feb. 2/21

Dear Jane,

I’m absolutely miserable.

I’m still getting laid, but that’s not related. Correlation and causation or something.

Why is New York so dreary and when can everything just stop?

I don’t know. Winter is ending and now it’s in that awful transition phase between seasons and it’s mucky and rainy and disgusting. Tony got these limited edition ice cream flavours though so I’m gonna ask James if we can make milkshakes out of them or something.

He doesn’t like the muck either. That’s not really relevant, I guess.

.

Feb. 14/21

Dear Jane,

I got flowers and chocolate from the department because I think they can sense I’ve been in a bad mood since forever. Then, there was an anonymous delivery and inside was this gorgeous chain bracelet that matches the necklace sort of. I lied and told the department it was from Pepper.

What a wretched holiday.

Yours truly.

.

Feb. 18/21

Dear Jane,

Normally, when boys get their haircut, they look ugly for a day or two after.

Not James.

He got his hair cut shorter and he looks really good. Like unbelievably good. Short hair fits him just as much as long hair does.

No other observations.

.

Feb. 25/21

Dear Jane,

It was Morgan’s birthday party today. James came in one of those brown jackets with the sheepskin wool inside and he looked so good. We mainly stayed apart to prevent any dalliance because one does not disappear from the Madame Secretary’s birthday party and the team doesn’t really know what’s happening behind the scenes except for Nat and Tony, really.

I really wanted to kiss him in front of our friends. I caught him staring a few times, and every time, the smile seemed to vanish off his face.

I’m lying in bed and it feels pretty empty.

It occurs to me that I’ve been in love for a pretty long time and I’m not even in a relationship with the guy.

Energy could’ve been devoted to so many other things and I’d hate being in love if it weren’t for the fact that it’s James.

Again, love making me sappy and all that.

.

Feb. 28/21

Dear Jane,

Jane is such a common name. Some would call it plain yet it means gift from God.

I wonder if James knew that.

.

Mar. 10/21

Dear Jane,

It’s James’ birthday. Birthday sex is a requirement and a desire. I also got him a gift which is a pair of new black Timbs. I hope he likes them. I’m excited for cake, I guess. Morgan did my makeup but I’m gonna have to wipe it off for the small little party tonight.

I think, ordinarily, I’d be in knots because it’s James’ birthday and I love him and he’s my best friend, but I just don’t know. March is fairly boring and contemplative and rainy. Work is work. Helen Cho did a presentation on her Cradle technology. Very cool.

.

Mar. 20/21

Dear Jane,

It’s raining and doesn’t feel like spring. Alpine vomited on my bed a few days ago because he’s not feeling well. James and I took him to the vet and he’s on antibiotics. Poor boy. He’s sleeping in the corner of my room right now while James is away on a mission. I think I’ll just work from my room for a bit until he’s feeling better.

Nothing much to report, which is why I didn’t write anything. The month passed by too quickly. James should be back by the end of the month. I miss him and not because of the sex. No one else who doesn’t work for me or pays me listens to me ramble on their own free will. Talking to screens just isn’t the same.

.

April 1/21

James got back really early this morning and I, by tradition, was awake. I sort of wish I wasn’t though. In true April Fool’s tradition, I made fun of him for being a day late to which he genuinely apologized. I told him to shower and get to sleep but he was in that mood where you’re so exhausted you’re wide awake.

James suggested we make really strong cocktails for each other as a celebration for an extraction mission completed successfully.

Who am I to say no to celebrating?

He really likes grapefruit juice so I made a REALLY strong Grapefruit Paloma. He made this really interesting drink that was purple and tasted like oranges and cranberries. A lot of blue curacao was in it so it was pretty bitter but it hit like a fucking truck which is probably why I didn’t understand anything he said at first.

He told me he loved me.

I think, somehow, he managed to get drunk after the Grapefruit Paloma and two more bottles of vodka. Don’t ask me how because Steve NEVER gets drunk. Maybe HYDRA-brand serum is faulty? I don’t know.

I asked if he knew what date it was. He laughed really loudly, said no, realized, stuttered apologies and then said it again.

It was the most perfect sound in the world and it was the best moment in recent history.

Or, the sickest practical joke.

Consensus not yet reached.

.

April 2/21

Dear Jane,

I asked if he remembered what happened yesterday morning.

He did not.

Sickest practical joke confirmed.

.

April 9/21

Dear Jane,

I’ve been avoiding writing because I’ve felt a whole lot of nothing. Everything is abysmal and James’ confession is all I can think about. Tony’s on my ass about slipping and he has half the mind to put me on paid leave until I get my shit together, both as the head of the department and as an agent.

Drunk words are sober thoughts, all that garbage.

I wish I could live my whole life drunk and honest. Maybe then I wouldn’t be in this situation where I’m stuck in eternal limbo with my best friend whom I’m in love with. Minus the drunk part.

Duty demands I return to this weathered journal until it’s finished so we’ll see. I might be back this month. Maybe not.

.

May 1/21

Dear Jane,

It rained a lot in April so now the flowers are blooming early. April showers bring May flowers. Guess it has some merit to it.

Limbo sucks. Its inescapable nature, its terrible facade of everything seeming fine when it really isn’t.

Of course, James still makes me smile, but nothing seems really okay when I let myself stop for a second.

I’m going out with Steve to a charity thing tomorrow. Should be a few hours worth of not thinking and free booze. Oh, and James and I made out in one of the quinjets after dinner today.

Felt weird considering we aren’t a couple, but it happened spontaneously as that is the nature of our relationship, it appears.

The cause also happens to be the cure of melancholy. Weird.

.

May 6/21

Dear Jane,

For context, it’s 5:23AM.

Went for a walk in Madison Square and then Central Park with James yesterday, although in my head it’s still today. We met up with Nat for some training at the gym. Got a bit mobbed by fans and the paps who asked if we were dating like we’re the tabloid’s biggest scoop.

We weren’t even holding hands, but I guess it’s just another reason why we shouldn’t be TOGETHER together in public.

We had another deep stuff talk again in bed after the usual business. I wanted to ask what this is between us and if he’s pursuing other options, because I’m not and I wanted to know if I should, but I also didn’t want to ruin the vibe.

He was in a good mood today, and seeing as sometimes he has nightmares, I thought it was best I don’t ruin it. He thinks I don’t notice but how do I not notice? He’s my best friend.

I kissed his cheek when he got up to leave and he kissed me goodbye on the lips.

I guess that means something.

.

May 17/21

Dear Jane,

In a moment of complete boredom, I listened to Imagine Dragons’ new album. It wasn’t too bad, to be honest, but Sharon thought it could’ve been better. Whatever.

.

May 22/21

Dear Jane,

Ran into ex-Girlfriend today. She still has that whole sunshine thing going on still. We had coffee and she asked if I got together with James yet.

I choked on my coffee and nearly died on the spot.

That’s how I learned that James apparently broke it off softly and ex-Girlfriend had, very wisely and knowingly, said that he should chase the apple of his eye before I (the apple) rotted alone and forgotten at the trunk of the tree. Or, as any sane person would say (and ex-Girlfriend DID say), get picked from the tree by another hand.

She said it was quite obvious that I was in love with James even months ago. She also thanked me for being so nice, anyway, and that it must’ve been difficult. What a fucking SAINT.

I set her up with a date with Steve because they have the same energy, honestly, and that’s going down on the 26th barring any emergencies.

Call me Cupid, but I think I just constructed the perfect match made in heaven.

Mentioned this meeting to James minus the apple detail. He asked if she was doing okay, which she was, and seemed glad for that. Between kisses and his sneaking hand beneath the covers, he also asked if there was anything else. Not really much to say on that front.

.

June 3/21

Dear Jane,

It’s starting to dry up consistently, now. It’s getting warmer, too. Sam brought me flowers and told me to at least turn the air-con on if I was gonna be stuck in the lab all day. Oh, the simplicities of summer are hopefully returning. Got out early and hung out with Morgan at the park in the evening.

It’s nice to hang out with someone so blissfully unaware with the stupidity of love. All Morgan cares about is grass and buttercups she grabs from the ground. She doesn’t have to worry about how to tell the guy she’s in love with that she loves him.

Oh, didn’t you hear? Nat said I should just buck the fuck up and tell him.

And Nat is scary when not listened to.

Much to brainstorm about.

.

June 14/21

Dear Jane,

Just here to brainstorm some ideas for future Stark Industries projects and thought I’d preface it with a small diary entry. Nothing really happened. Work’s catching up for some reason and bad guys are acting up. I’ve pulled a few all nighters, not gonna lie.

Really tired, but in a good, productive way. Haven’t thought much on the James front. Gonna have to focus on that after everything calms down.

.

June 20/21

Dear Jane,

It’s officially summer and yet today was awful with only subtle hints of being okay.

So much for simplicity.

In the evening, I read on the hammock on the balcony. No one really bothered me except James, but he’s never a bother.

Steve and ex-Girlfriend (who will now be reidentified as Girlfriend) are pretty cute, and she meshes well with the group. There’s nothing really awkward between her, James, or me, so I guess two people’s summers are going well. Bully for them.

Didn’t really eat. Was too busy working. James got me dinner. Didn’t feel right and just kept working. This whole agreement between us has been very flexible but we really need to fit in a session soon.

I’ll make it work somehow.

.

June 22/21

Dear Jane,

I got my wish and didn’t at the same time. We spent the whole day in the sheets (very blissfully relaxing) and I, stupidly and with very little sleep, let it slip.

In less elegant terms, I told him I loved him. It felt very real and genuine and very-out-of-a-movie, but his reaction was less so.

What did I say? Allergic to intimacy.

He tried to play it off as best friends and even that was uncomfortable, but I, very seriously and very foolishly, corrected him that “no, James Buchanan Barnes, I am IN LOVE with you.”

He left a few minutes ago, saying something about heading down to the gym, but I know he’s just trying to avoid me.

God, how am I so stupid?

.

June 25/21

Dear Jane,

I haven’t seen James in a few days. I thought he was avoiding me but turns out he’s out of the country. Something about protection for whatever dignitary is travelling at the end of the month. I don’t know.

I wasn’t assigned to that op so the details weren’t shared liberally. Sam just said it’d be a while during the ambassador’s entire stay. High threat level which is why the Avengers were contracted.

I just hope he stays safe. I know he probably took off to take his mind off things, but I don’t know how he’s focusing when all I can think of is those three little words.

I love you.

Seems so fake the more I hear it in my head, but his reaction was so real that I think I might’ve just irreversibly messed things up.

.

July 12/21

Dear Jane,

It’s been a hectic couple of weeks. If future me finds this with blotted words, it’s because I am indeed crying while writing this.

James was medically evac’ed last night and transferred back to New York. Helen Cho was flown in from her medical conference in Minnesota where she was showcasing the newest version of the Cradle.

There was an assasination attempt and James is fucked up bad.

Holy shit, I’m so scared. I’ve never been so scared in my life. It’s like an invisible demon has my heart in his claw-like hands and he’s squeezing with all his might. I think my heart might explode.

I just want to hold his hand but he’s so high risk no one’s allowed to see him right now.

The waiting room is too quiet. Steve’s holding on to Girlfriend’s hand so hard I think her bones are broken but she’s taking it like a champ. Nat’s pacing, slowly patting a sleeping Morgan who she’s carrying. Sam and Tony are talking about stuff.

It’s too quiet.

I’m so scared.

.

July 13/21

They got him into the Cradle. Thank God. I think I might cry some more out of relief, but he was conscious for a few minutes earlier and he’s stable now.

It’s really late at night but they extended privileges to me to stay with him so I’m just sitting here, writing. Listening to the Cradle do its thing and the monitors do theirs.

When he was conscious, I was with him. He said some stuff under his breath but the one thing I could make out was “I’m an idiot.”

Granted, he’s right. It was supposed to be Steve or Tony on that mission. You know, people with more defense op experience, but he had to go out and volunteer himself.

I feel sort of guilty.

It’s partially my fault, isn’t it?

I think I’ll try to tuck in for tonight. I wanna be awake when he wakes up, too.

.

July 14/21

Dear Jane,

James woke up today. He’s still in the Cradle (lots of internal damage spread throughout the body) but he’s conscious. He saw me and immediately tried to sit up which was sweet, but when he couldn’t, he just told me to come closer and then told me that he loved me.

I called him an idiot for running away. I told him he really scared me. I told him that I loved him so fucking much. I told him that I feel so guilty and he just held my face and said that it will never be my fault.

He’s so fucking romantic, even when he’s lying down with a wound being stitched closed live in front of my eyes.

Oh, and he kissed me. I don’t think I noticed how much I actually missed him until that moment.

I don’t know how to describe the feeling in my chest. It’s a mixture between super happy and super scared and super, super warm inside. Summer might be looking up.

.

July 18/21

Dear Jane,

We got home today. James is staying in my room. The team doesn’t say anything about it. We’re best friends, after all, but I think they’ve known for a long time that there’s something more. Some of them are just too polite to say so.

I won’t have much time to write over the next couple of days. James has to be kept on a strict, extremely healthy diet and medicine regime.

I don’t care. I’m just glad he’s home.

He’s kissing me a lot more, now. Alpine likes the fact that his two humans are now in the same room. He purrs so loudly, I can hear him from where he’s dozing, curled up underneath James’ chin. He (James) is resting after his second round of antibiotics for the day while I work from my room, and sometimes I catch myself looking back just to make sure he’s okay.

I’m going to go kiss him now.

Be right back.

.

July 21/21

Dear Jane,

It’s almost Nat’s birthday (the 26th). Super exciting. James is back on solids and I’m helping him around with walking. Even with the Cradle and the healing factor, he’s still super banged up, so it’s better safe than sorry.

We had a really long talk about love and stuff. It’s good to finally have it out in the open. It was mostly me talking about my side of things and he just nodded a lot. I know he was listening though.

We also kissed a lot, like seventeen year old couples who are heavy on the PDA, but within the privacy of my room. I dunno. I like the heat of his arms and the way he kisses the shell of my ear when he’s bored or it’s a commercial break.

It feels very natural.

I am very much in love with him.

I tell him that and he always looks skeptical, but whatever. He doesn’t have to say it back (I tell him that there’s no pressure) and he’ll get it through his thick skull eventually that he’s now stuck with me.

.

July 25/21

Dear Jane,

We made cookies in the early AM as tradition for the party tomorrow and I told him that I love him (again, but this time he didn’t run, nor has he the past few times. Fantastic).

While the cookies were baking, he explained everything on his side of the story: how he was scared to be vulnerable, how opening up to me is just different and new and scary and I get it. I really do. I know how it feels to think you don’t deserve good things and sabotage feels like the only way to save everyone from hurt.

He smiled a lot more after that. I guess he’s just glad I get it.

One day, I’ll successfully convince James that he deserves everything good this world has to offer.

Until then, I’ll just keep trying.

P.S. He said, with less hesitation than the first time, that he loves me, too. Best. Day. Ever.

P.P.S. The cookies are so good and I want to devour them all. I could barely stop James from eating all of them. Again: Best. Day. Ever.

.

July 26/21

Dear Jane,

In summary of today:

Happy birthday, Natasha.

James has been given the clear bill of health which is exciting. Also, I asked him about the Jane and gift of God thing.

He knew. “Intuition” and all that. He also said I looked “like a royal dame” in my swimsuit. Smug idiot just trying to be charming.

I love him and that’s the only reason it works.

Back to the festivities.

.

July 27/21

Dear Jane,

Good morning to you and to James who’s still in my bed at a ripe 6:23AM, fast asleep.

Progress. Now, back to sleep.

.

July 27/21

Dear Jane,

It’s now 9:49AM and James greeted me with orange juice and waffles. He said I was cute when I slept. Creep.

He also said he tried so many times to stay in my bed after, before we were like we are now, but he never could, and now he’s upset that he missed out on my cute sleeping/waking up for the day face every time he did so.

He is exceptionally cute when he’s pouting.

I think we’re officially boyfriend-girlfriend, but we’ll work out the semantics on that later. For now, it’s another summer day together. He suggested Chinese takeout for dinner because I have to go dip back into the lab later today to check on some samples.

I agreed and he kissed me in promise like it was our “thing.” I can’t stop smiling like an idiot.

Massive progress.

.

July 28/21

Dear Jane,

He told me I was the only one for him.

Also, he kissed me in front of our friends for the first time. Natasha yelled “FINALLY” and pushed us into the pool. Sam laughed and then I grabbed him and threw him into the pool. Ensuing: a water fight for the ages.

For a day: 10/10

.

July 31/21

Hey Jane,

I think I’m happy.

I’m sorry I ever doubted the effects of writing down my feelings.

James has a romantic trip to uptown planned for our first date and he said it’ll take the whole day so I thought I’d get this entry in the morning. I dunno. It’s really early and the happy thought was the first thing that came to my head.

Weird, but it’s a good weird.

See you in a bit.

[hurricanery]

What’s a Soulmate?

Hi! This is my first Amelink Fic. Completely AU//Little snippets of ‘What if Link and Amelia had met at a different time in their lives?’ Also OOPS THIS IS REALLY LONG. TW: implied drug use.

_______ Atticus Lincoln is 9 years old when he discovers what a soulmate is. Not by definition exactly, but the feeling is there.

It’s a sunny afternoon in mid-august, one of the last few days of freedom before school starts up again. Few of the last chances Link will get to spend all day outside, practicing his baseball pitch with his dad.

Earlier that day, Link and his father had noticed moving trucks line up across the street. Right in front of the house where Mrs. Edelstein lived before she was put in that nursing home.

“Looks like someone’s finally moving in,” Link’s dad had said.

‘Good,’ Link had thought. No more Mrs. Edelstein and no more apples on halloween.

_______

The two are just finishing up their batting practice when a minivan pulls into the driveway of Mrs. Edelstein’s old house. A woman steps out of the driver’s side first, before chaos ensues. Both sliding doors of the minivan fly open at the same time, before a handful of young voices are heard. Link watches from afar and counts one by one as they pile out of the car.

A taller, teenaged girl and a dark-haired boy around the same age immediately sprint toward the house, the girl yelling something about ‘dibs on the biggest bedroom!’

“Nancy! Derek! Slow down!” the children’s mother yells after them. The woman sighs as two more young girls jump out of the car and start running toward the house. “Come on, Amy,” the mother speaks again. Slowly, another girl appears from the car. Immediately, Link notices the age difference between this girl and the other kids that had just disappeared into the house. She seems much closer to his age. Link is amused by her more reluctant pace, compared to her siblings. He watches as the girl’s mother begins to practically drag her toward the house.

“Why don’t you go say hi, Link? Introduce yourself?” His dad’s voice officially halts him from observing the family across the street.

Link shakes his head. “Maybe later,” he says, his gaze drifting back to the house, where he can see the children running around through the front windows.

_______

It’s a little bit after 7pm now, and Link and his dad have just finished dinner. It’s still light outside, a nice summer night, and Link wanders back outside to hopefully curve his boredom.

There’s not much to do in his backyard, at least not by himself. He feels a tug in his chest when he thinks back to earlier. The way he was completely enticed by the big, rowdy family across the street.

He wanders to the front lawn in search of his baseball mitt when he sees her. The youngest girl from earlier. She’s sitting cross-legged by herself on the sidewalk in front of her new home, focusing deeply on the pavement beneath her, sidewalk chalk in hand. Her long dark hair is pulled back into a braid, but despite that, she seems to be pushing her bangs out of her face every few seconds.

Link is a pretty shy kid and he knows that. Even a little timid. But there’s something about this girl that’s piqued his interest. He really wants to know her, and to be her friend, he thinks.

So he gains up enough courage to cross the street, not before checking both ways for cars first. He approaches the house slowly, but the girl doesn’t seem to notice his presence. Her head remains turned down, focusing on what she’s doing.

“Um hi my name is Atticus Lincoln and I live across the street,” the sentence comes out in a rush, words stringing together completely. And maybe he should have made his entrance more known, he thinks, as he watches the girl almost fall back from where she was sitting with her knees tucked underneath her.

“Shit, you scared me,” the girl gasps, blue eyes wide.

And Link is stunned. Because that is not what he expected to hear. His eyes are now just as wide as hers “Y-you’re allowed to say that?"

The girl just stares at him for a second, before something seems to click in her brain, and then she’s laughing with her head thrown back. Real, genuine laughter. The kind that Link has only seen on sitcoms, or when his aunts and uncles drink too many adult beverages at family barbecues.

He loves the sound of it. It’s making him laugh, too. "You have a funny laugh,” he tells her.

“You have a funny name,” she retorts.

“Hey,” he frowns, but it doesn’t last as he can’t help but laugh. “Well what’s your name, then?”

“Amelia.”

“Amelia?” He repeats, dumbfounded. Partly because he’s never really heard the name before. It sounds sharp. And he thinks it matches perfectly. Especially with the quick and witty words falling from her laughing mouth.

“Yeah, ya dummy. Have you never heard that name before?”

And Link, for the first time in his life, is at a loss for words. Because she is something else.

“Anyway, Atticus, do you wanna play a game?”

_______

Link is 16 years old when he discovers that high school is the bane of his existence.

Link is a decently popular kid. Apparently. A favorite student in the eyes of most teachers. A friendly face for most of his classmates. A star baseball player and a name well known in the small community. But he doesn’t always see himself the way that others do, most of the time.

He has to wear this thing called deodorant all of a sudden, sometimes his face breaks out, he is nervous almost all of the time, and on top of all that, yesterday he found out he’s the only one in his friend group who’s never kissed a girl.

He feels pressured, mostly by the fact that girls in his grade are so intimidating.

It’s friday morning and he’s running kind of late for school. But he knows that doesn’t really matter. Because as late as he is, he knows Amelia will be running even later. And he’s supposed to meet her in 2 minutes to walk to school. Like they do every day.

He wanders outside and paces the sidewalk in front of her house, waiting for her front door to swing open and for her to come barreling outside as if getting ready for school is the most hectic experience.

And like clockwork, there she is. Flying down the front steps of her porch while simultaneously shrugging on her backpack and flinging her hair up into a messy ponytail. Her face lights up as soon as she sees him, but she falters just as quick, as she almost falls facedown on the sidewalk.

“You didn’t have time to tie your shoes this morning, Ames?”

"I don’t have time for a lot of things, Link.” She rolls her eyes.

“Well maybe if you woke up on time-”

“That’s impossible.”

“Go to bed at a decent time?”

“How do you know I don’t go to bed at a decent time?” She smirks at him, a common occurrence. Link’s pulse quickens every time she pulls the mischievous grin.

He blushes before he responds. “Your bedroom is literally right across from mine. Your light is on until at least 3am.”

Amelia just giggles. That fantastic, contagious giggle that Link has heard everyday for the last 6 years.

He nods to himself, knowing fully well that Amelia’s homework routine typically takes place between midnight and 3am. He doesn’t understand how she does it. She saves everything for the last minute and yet remains to have the highest grades out of everybody. It’s like the opposite way he goes about his own academics, yet it yields the same results. Even though Amelia is far smarter than him, she has almost the opposite reputation with the teachers.

Amelia bumps her hip into his side as they walk, shaking Link from his thoughts. “You going to the party tonight?” She raises her brows at him in question.

“Probably not,” Link answers. She just laughs at him.

“We’ll see.”

_______

They both end up at the party that night. A stupid high school party. Separately, that is. Because despite how close Amelia and Link are, they have very different friend groups. Link’s friend group is mostly made up of the baseball team, while Amelia tends to flock towards a tougher crowd.

So they arrive separately, but as soon as they lock eyes in the crowded basement, they’re practically running toward each other.

“Link!!!” Amelia yells, a little too loudly, unlike her. “I’m soooo glad you’re here.” She smiles at him, but her eyes are unfocused.

“Amelia are you drunk already?” Link laughs. Amelia’s usually a pretty happy drunk. At least the times that Link has seen her this way.

She nods her head around enthusiastically. “That I am,” she giggles. “Lemme find you a drink okay?”

_______

A couple hours later and Link’s ready to leave. He’s not drunk, just a little tipsy. And he’s not really feeling like being here anymore. He looks around the room to see if Amelia is still here. But he can’t seem to find her. He shrugs it off and says his goodbyes before making his way outside to walk home.

When he reaches the front porch he halts. Because there’s Amelia. Sitting with her knees pulled up to her chest on the front steps, gazing forward as if she’s thinking really hard about something.

Link clears his throat. “Whatcha doing there?”

As soon as she realizes Link’s presence, she shakes from her daze, smiling up at him. “Waiting for you. I felt like going home a while ago but I thought I’d wait for you.”

“That was cool of you.”

“No biggie.”

Link towers over her, even after she stands up. The height difference can be almost comical sometimes. She scrunches her nose a bit at him, like she’s taking in the height difference, too. And with that, they start their walk.

Link’s pretty quiet. More so than usual, Amelia notices.

“Something bothering you?” She asks.

“Uh, no. I’m fine.” And Link is the worst liar ever.

“Link…”

He’s silent for a moment.

“Amelia have you ever kissed anyone?”

Amelia laughs, cause she was not expecting this. “Yeah, silly. Why do you ask?”

And oh, Link thinks. That is not what he wanted to hear.

“Who?”

“Well. Umm. Jake. And Tyler. And-”

She notices him go quiet, eyes glued to his feet as they walk.

“You okay, Link?”

He shakes his head.

“Well what’s up?” She continues.

Link sighs deeply before responding. “Amelia, I’ve never kissed anyone..” he quickly mumbles out.

“I’m sorry I didn't really hear you. Did you say-”

“I said I’ve never kissed anyone,” and you could definitely say his voice is raised.

Amelia doesn’t really know how to respond. “Link, that’s okay. That’s fine.”

“No. It’s not. Everyone else has. Literally everybody.”

“That’s not true.”

“You have though.”

“Yeah, but-”

“But, what?” He interrupts her, and Amelia catches on that he’s pretty upset right now.

“It didn’t mean anything. I kissed those guys on a dare. At a stupid party. I didn’t even enjoy it.”

“Still,” Link sighs. “I feel like a freak. Kind of.”

“Well you are a freak,” she smirks at him. “But not because you haven’t kissed anyone.”

Link visibly relaxes, smiling back despite the dig. They're quiet again for a few minutes before Link speaks up again.

“Amelia, can I ask you something really dumb?”

“Sure, dummy.”

He sighs again, as if he’s working up some sort of courage, because he is. “Can I kiss you right now?” He looks to her face for a reaction before he continues. Of course she looks startled and confused. Just as he’d expected. “Not like serious. Like just so I can get it over with?” He explains quickly.

“Are you for real?” She giggles, still a little drunk.

“I am.”

“No, you idiot. I love you too much."

And now it’s Link’s turn to look startled.

"You’re my best friend,” She continues.

Oh. Right.

“And I’m not letting you waste your first kiss because you 'want to get it over with.’”

_______

2 weeks later and final exams are cramming their way into Link’s life. As he wraps up studying for a chem exam, he checks the clock. 1am. He yawns, standing up and stretching, before deciding to call it a night. Link finds himself glancing across the street, knowing it’s prime time for Amelia to be studying, too. His gaze lands on her bedroom window, but he frowns as he notices her light is turned off.

Link doesn’t think too much of it. He’s actually a little relieved that Amelia has seemingly gone to bed at a decent time. He quickly brushes his teeth and sets his alarm before collapsing into bed.

On the verge of sleep, Link is interrupted by a noise against his window. He tries to brush it off, but it becomes more persistent. Every 10 or so seconds, a sharp tap against glass. He gets up, crossing the floor, peering out his window. He rubs his eyes as they adjust, looking down at the front lawn.

And there’s Amelia Shepherd. Dressed in skinny jeans and a leather jacket, looking right back at him. Link thinks he’s dreaming. Amelia grows impatient at his slow reaction, taking it upon herself to throw another small rock against the glass. Link jumps back, startled. He opens the window.

“Amelia, what-” He groans. “What are you doing? What time is it? What-”

“Can you let me in? I need to stay over.” She interrupts him.

Something about her tone of voice seems off, Link thinks. But, he’s moving down the stairs and toward the front door quicker than expected for being half-asleep.

They settle on the sofa in Link’s living room. Amelia immediately begins kicking off her ankle boots. Link watches her, noticing her glassy, blood-shot eyes. He sighs.

“Don’t be mad at me.” Amelia picks up on his disappointment right away. She leans back against the cushions, resting her eyes shut. Link is glad for it. Her eyes are absolutely stunning. He has no problem admitting it. But, he hates the way they look when they are glazed over and hinting red like that. Her eyes remain closed as she mumbles at him “Can I have a glass of water?”

Link silently obeys her request. Moving about the kitchen slowly, as to not wake his father. When he re-enters the living room, Amelia is sitting up again, playing with her fingers anxiously. Link sets the glass of water on the table before he sits back down next to her.

“Thanks,” she mumbles. “I’m sorry.”

Link shakes his head. “You okay?” He asks her.

She pauses, gathering her thoughts. “I did something stupid.”

Link is not phased by this. She “does something stupid” quite a lot these days. And, quite a lot, she ends up on his couch when she doesn’t want to face her problems right away. And Link lets her do this. He lets her hide out across the street when she can’t go home yet.

“I took Derek’s car this time,” she almost whispers. And Link’s head snaps up, glancing through the front window and to her driveway across the street. He notices Derek’s car to be missing still.

“Amelia!” It’s a combination of a whisper and a shout. “You can’t be driving around like this-”

“Oh please!” She interrupts him, matching his tone. “I just smoked a little weed!”

Link glares at her. Locking eyes with her hazy blue orbs.

“And besides...I didn’t drive his car home. I walked.” She continues.

“You walked?!”

“Hey! I left his car didn’t I? I was being safe!”

Link takes a minute to steady his voice. He can hear some shuffling around upstairs but decides to ignore it.

“I would have come pick you up.” He sighs. Amelia leans back against the cushions again. Link notices truly how anxious she looks. She looks up at him, worry and regret dancing all across her features. He sighs again, and this time he sounds more understanding. “We’ll go get his car first thing in the morning.”

She smiles a bit, grateful. She looks so tired.

“Did you leave it Jake’s?” Link asks, flinching at the thought of her even going over to his house. Link can’t stand the guy. He’s a bad influence on her, the school’s go-to dealer. Not to mention the guy is repeating his senior year. Ugh.

Amelia nods. “Yeah-”

They’re interrupted by the sound of footsteps descending the staircase. Link’s dad turns the corner a moment later. Link meets his dad’s eyes apologetically. When he sees Amelia and Link on the couch, he nods to himself knowingly.

“Hi, Mr. Lincoln,” Amelia speaks up. “Sorry to wake you.”

Link’s dad looks at Amelia, nodding with understandment. “That’s quite alright, Amelia. Just came down for a glass of water, actually.” Link knows his dad is making that last bit up. He’s just checking in. “Are you okay?”

Amelia nods gratefully at the man still standing in the doorway. “I’m okay….thanks Mr. Lincoln.”

“Yeah thanks Dad. I’ll be back up in a bit.” Link watches as his dad disappears, eyes shifting back to Amelia. Her eyes close again as she relaxes back against the couch. Link squeezes her thigh gratefully. Grateful to his dad for being practically a second parent to Amelia. Amelia smiles sleepily.

“Your dad is the best.”

“I know.”

Amelia’s smile fades and Link’s heart clenches a bit at the sight of it. He knows that his dad has acted as sort of a father figure to Amelia, especially because Amelia’s dad had died when she was so young. Link and Amelia had even bonded over being raised by single parents growing up. He feels sick with guilt. His parent’s divorce can’t even compare to what Amelia has been through.

“Alright we can talk tomorrow, ok?” Link whispers, squeezing her thigh once more before standing up. He grabs a blanket from the basket in the corner and tosses it to Amelia. She wraps it around herself before moving to lay down across the couch. Link heads toward the stairs.

“Link?”

He pauses. “Yeah?”

“Just, please-” Amelia’s voice is laced with sadness. “I, just. I don’t want you to be mad at me.”

Link sighs from the doorway. “I’m not, Amelia. It’s...just. You scare me sometimes.”

Link hears some shuffling around before he sees Amelia’s head pop up over the back of the sofa. She glances back at him.

“I know. I’m sorry.”

Link just stares at her, not knowing what to say. He’d rather they have this conversation tomorrow. But, Amelia speaks up again.

“I don’t know why I do this stuff sometimes….” her voice is barely a whisper, it sounds like she’s talking more to herself. “It’s just nice to not feel...sometimes...to be not feeling everything. If that makes sense…”

Link nods quickly. “Amelia we’ll talk tomorrow, ok?”

Amelia nods in response, still looking unsure of herself.

“We’ll get donuts on the way to pick up the car, how’s that sound?” Link speaks up again, smiling at her.

Amelia beams at him. She finally drops down against the pillows. Link takes a second before he turns back toward the stairs. As he makes his way up, he hears a quiet “thank you” from behind him.

_______

Link is 18 years old when he discovers what it feels like to miss someone so much it hurts.

He’s been away for his first semester of college for 2 months now and not even weekly Skype sessions with Amelia can distract him from his shitty experience so far.

His roommate is the definition of douche-bag. Constantly trashing their room, eating all of Link’s food, staying up all night, locking him out of the room for hours at a time when he has a girl over.

Link hates it here. And he misses having his best friend. And the comfort of being so close with someone and having them near at all times.

Amelia is having a different experience. She got into college on a scholarship and immediately found her place.

Link doesn’t like to admit that he often catches himself counting down the days until Christmas, aka when he’ll see her again. Hear her laugh again, and not just through a webcam.

_______

Link learns to find new distractions. He joins the college baseball team. He meets new people. People he actually enjoys, way more than he’ll ever enjoy his roommate or the people that live on his floor.

He meets Emma. She’s on the college dance team. She’s beautiful. And tall. And genuinely funny. And a distraction.

He thinks he loves Emma, by the end of his first year of college. He feels something every time he looks at her. With her beautiful dark hair and her tan skin. Her wide smile and the way she laughs with her entire body. She feels familiar. And makes him feel nostalgic.  

And he crushes any thought he has of Emma equaling his Amelia. His best friend.

He loses his virginity to Emma. It was a stupidly quick and drunken thing. By the time he returns home that summer, he can barely remember what it felt like. Or why he thought he knew what love was when he looked at Emma.

_______

Link is 22 years old when he discovers what it feels like to finally open up.

He hasn’t seen Amelia in almost a full year, although they still consider each other one another’s best friends.

It’s finally thanksgiving and they’re both returning home from their separate colleges for the weekend. He’s completely shocked when he first sees her. She looks the same but so, so different. More mature. More….something. Her hair is cut a bit shorter, framing her face. Her eyes are more intense than he remembers. Her face lights up at the sight of him and it makes his chest pull tight. He takes in what she’s wearing, the blue in her dress doing all the right things for her features.

Amelia clears her throat, drawing his attention back up to her face. “Long time no see, Link. Eyes up here.”

He shakes his head amusedly as he pulls her into a tight hug, because she’s already making him laugh within the first few seconds of being reunited.

_______

They end up at a local restaurant. The night before thanksgiving, which happens to be the busiest bar night all year. It’s also the night that everyone from high school decides to go to the same place. It basically feels like a premature high school reunion.

Amelia and Link attempt to stay together for the entirety of the night, but it’s a little hard when you’re constantly interrupted by vaguely familiar faces and pointless conversations.

After Link catches up with an old buddy for what seems like hours, he moves across the crowded room to find Amelia. It’s well past 1am and Link kind of wants to go home. He has to get up early tomorrow anyway to set up for thanksgiving festivities.

He catches her eye from where she’s sitting at a table, and motions toward the door, attempting to let her know that he’s leaving.

She frowns at him before abruptly ending whatever conversation she was part of.

Link watches her as she pushes through people to meet him by the door.

“You’re leaving without me? What kind of date are you?” She smirks at him as she shrugs on her jacket.

“I wasn’t aware this was a date, Ames.” Link responds, playing along. “But yes, I am leaving. Early morning and all that.”

“Well let me walk you home.” She continues, voice laced with irony.

_______

They end up back at Link’s house, sitting at the kitchen table. And it all feels very nostalgic. Especially with Link’s dad upstairs sleeping. Link feels like a kid again. Amelia makes him feel like a kid again.

Mostly there’s a lot of catching up, and reminiscing. And conversation about the future. It’s good. And Link is happy. And Amelia is laughing, so inherently, Link is too.  

“Remember that time junior year when you were so sleep deprived because 'college prep, duh’ that you slept-walked all the way across the street, to my house, and started throwing random shit at my window?”

Amelia bursts out laughing. “My sleep schedule was always a mess. But how about that time we got so drunk senior year? And we fell asleep on your front lawn? And my mom found us the next morning?”

_______

They talk about everything. All the things they used to love. All the things they missed about each other while they were both away. Everything that’s new to them.

Amelia learns everything about Link’s college experiences. All of the drunken mishaps. All of the ex-girlfriends. Even some weird sex things that she can’t ever un-hear. She learns that Link wants to pursue med school, possibly move out to the city.

Link learns that Amelia wants to follow in her older siblings’ footsteps. He learns that she loves science and wants to become a surgeon, and Link swears to her that he had always known that about her.

Amelia tells him about the relationships she’s been through. And the one she’s currently in.

“You’ll get to meet him this weekend, Link. He’s driving in tomorrow. For dinner.”

Link swallows, hard. Because suddenly things don’t feel so much like nostalgia and a happy, familiar place. Things feel uncertain.

“How long have you two been together?” He asks, feeling a tad out of place.

“We met my freshman year. We’ve been dating on and off since then.”

“On and off?” Link questions.

Amelia clears her throat. “Well, yeah.” She sighs. “We’ve broken up more than once. And gotten back together a couple of times…It’s um…” She pauses, collecting her thoughts. “It’s been, um, I mean I wouldn’t say a roller coaster, but…”

Link watches Amelia’s face fall with her half-attempt at an explanation. For the second time tonight, Link realizes that Amelia looks different. And it’s not just the confidence or the mature face. It’s in her eyes. And Link thinks she looks sad. Despite the fact that she’s been laughing freely, the same way she always has. It doesn’t reach her eyes.

Link doesn’t want to pry. But he almost feels obligated to ask. Because this is his best friend. His favorite person of practically 13 years.

“Amelia, are you happy?”

She doesn’t look up from where her eyes are glued to the kitchen table. It feels like minutes have passed before Amelia stands up on wobbly feet and walks around to Link’s side of the table. She still doesn’t say anything, but all of a sudden she’s forcing her way into Link’s lap, legs dangling off the side of the chair and arms wrapping around his neck.

She looks exhausted, he notices, when he looks into her eyes. And then she finally opens her mouth.

“I had the biggest crush on you in high school. Probably since I was 9, if I’m being honest.” And she laughs a little bit under her breath.

She lays her head on his chest so he can no longer see her face. Link wraps his arms around her waist and places a comforting kiss to the top of her head.

“And I of course was head over heels for you, but you already knew that. Everyone did.” He whispers, tightening his grip on her just slightly, giving her a gentle squeeze.

She laughs into him, and Link can feel it on his neck. It’s a tired, breathless laugh.

“Let’s crash on the couch, yeah?” He offers. “Like old times?”

_______

It’s weird for Link the next night at dinner. To see Amelia snuggled into the embrace of another man. Not even 24 hours after she’d fallen asleep in his own arms.

Link cringes when he recites it in his head. The way he’d whispered ’I’ve always loved you, Ames. Always will’ before they drifted off.

And the way that she’d responded. ’I love you too, Link. You’re my best friend.’

Link is angry, he thinks.

_______

Link is 25 years old when he discovers that he’s destined to be a father.

When his fiancé of two years, Rachel, tells him she's pregnant, he almost falls to his knees. So overwhelmed with a feeling he can’t place. He hopes it’s that he’s overjoyed, not overwhelmed, or the least bit uncertain.

He would love nothing more than to be a father.

_______

Link feels numb, three months later, when Rachel loses the baby. Waking up in the middle of the night and discovering such a thing, rushing to the hospital, only to find out it’s too late. It was draining for the both of them.

And it takes a toll on their relationship.

Rachel is defeated. And grows more and more depressed.

She takes her anger out on Link, and he does the same with her.

They decide to take a break, and Rachel moves back in with her parents. She needs some time for herself. And Link doesn’t know if he feels relieved. But he feels something. Cause he knows he was supposed to be a father.

_______

Link is 28 years old when he discovers that Seattle is his true home.

He’s graduated medical school and landed an internship at a top hospital in the city. He’s been in Seattle for almost 2 months now, and he feels like he’s in the right place for the first time in a long time.

It’s a monday morning and he’s taking his regular train ride downtown when an all too familiar brunette steps into the subway car.

The car is kind of crowded, and she automatically makes her way to a less dense standing spot. She doesn’t see him, cause she’s not really looking around.

Link is frozen in his seat, unsure of what to do. He hasn’t seen her in almost 3 years. Since they met at a restaurant in their hometown on New Years Eve. He was with Rachel at the time and things were very different.

Link realizes the next stop is his and he almost debates staying on to take his chance with Amelia.

The doors open and Amelia is getting off. And this is his stop, too. He leaps out of his seat just in time for the doors to not close in on him as he exits the train.

And he's definitely moving a little too fast and with too much force, because as soon as he’s on the platform, he’s running right into his childhood best friend.

She looks more startled than ever. And he takes a second to catch his breath. “Long time no see, Shepherd.” He smiles.

And her face lights up like never before. Brighter than before the average walk to school. Brighter than the time she first visited him at college. Brighter than a Thanksgiving reunion. She’s pulling him into the tightest of hugs, laughing breathlessly into his ear.

“What the hell, Link? What the hell are you doing here?” She lets go of him and they’re making eye contact, smiles wide across both their faces. They both seem to need to catch their breath.

“I could ask you the same thing.” He jokes.

Amelia shakes from her daze. “I..I live here now. I start a new job today. Like now, actually.”

Link just shakes his head knowingly, trying to contain the smile that just won’t quit. He doesn’t have much to say.

He’s overjoyed.

_______

Link is 29 years old when he discovers that his 9 year old self was correct. He knows what a soulmate is, by definition.

He knows what a soulmate is when he takes Amelia out on their real first date and he doesn’t even kiss her goodbye, because the timing isn’t quite right.

He knows what a soulmate is when he watches Amelia become a brilliant neuro fellow. When he watches her work. And save lives. When he realizes that he’s loved her determination since the moment they first met.

He knows what a soulmate is when they have sex for the first time. And it's way better for the both of them than it ever was with anyone else. When they take it kind of slow, reveling in each moment. Because it doesn’t feel real. She doesn’t feel real. It’s understated and overwhelming and it drives Link insane.

Amelia had asked him to stay over after they’d gone out with some of their other co-workers after a successful surgery, and when the making out and cuddling pressed into something further, Link couldn’t deny her.

Link knows what a soulmate is that night. When she looks him in the eye and goes to remove her sweater. It’s all vulnerability and it leaves him awestruck. But this is his best friend, and his soulmate. So when he asks her if she’s sure, and she sighs with words of encouragement, he takes the opportunity to learn every inch of her skin.

Link knows what a soulmate is the next morning. When he wakes up with the sun shining harshly through the window. And he turns to Amelia, who’s still sleeping, and traces the lines and shadows on her back from the bright sun.

Link knows what a soulmate is that same morning when she finally wakes from her slumber, rolling over to face him and whispering ’let’s make pancakes.’

Link knows what a soulmate is when they move in together. In a tiny apartment in Seattle. And they paint the walls a different color in every room.

And despite their first fight, Link knows what a soulmate is. He meets Amelia’s nieces and nephews. And he makes a nonchalant comment about kids one day. And she panics. And doesn’t talk to him for three days.

Link knows what a soulmate is when he learns to compromise. Because she doesn’t always have the best track record with long term relationships. She’s nontraditional, and he understands that.

And she’s still his soulmate when they turn 30. They get a bigger house in the suburbs. Link calls it 'room to grow’ and Amelia rolls her eyes and calls it 'extra work space.’

When they’re 32, and they’re attending their co-worker’s amazingly beautiful wedding, and Amelia distractedly states that ’maybe I’ll marry you someday,’ Link knows what a soulmate is.

_______

Link is 34 years old when everything falls into place for the rest of his life.

He comes home and Amelia has cooked dinner, something she never does. (Unless this is secretly takeout food, that she’s organized neatly onto their own dinner plates).

The atmosphere is different and Amelia definitely has a nervous energy about her.

Later that night when they're practically asleep, and Amelia mumbles “by the way, I’m pregnant,” Link knows what a soulmate is.

At first he thinks she’s kidding, but when she assures him she’s not, Link is up and turning on the lights. Dancing around the room like an idiot. And Amelia is laughing. Head thrown back and everything, his favorite sight to see.

And he’s never felt so happy.

_______

They settle on a name the same day they find out it’s a boy.

“Aiden?”

“No.”

“Charlie?”

“No.”

“Sam?”

“No.”

“Link, come on. Why do you hate every single name that I like?”

“It has to feel right, Amelia. We’ll know when it’s the right one.”

“Ugh. Okay. How about you come up with one?”

Link purses his lips. “How about Scout?”

“Scout…” Amelia repeats. “That’s a funny name.”

“It is,” Link smiles.

“You have a funny name,” Amelia continues, smirking.

“Scout,” Link repeats. “It’s perfect.”

Feedback please/let me know if you want me to write more amelink/send prompts!!

[thickenmyblood]

I love how you really put a lot of thought into how you regard and read fanfic as well as how you respond to questions about how you feel aout it. Can I ask what are some parts/ideas in fics that really made you go wow, this is well planned or like I never would have thought about this or I forgot that this plot point and device were even a thing! I hope this makes sense

I love you, kind stranger. Thank you for reading my delirious posts and giving me the chance to scream about fics, which is always a pleasure. 

Note: If your fic is in this post and you don’t want it to be, let me know and I’ll take it down. 

Zeitnot by thereshaegoes

I love the idea of time travel, so when I read this fic’s summary I bookmarked it instantly. At first, I thought it was going to be eight chapters of Laurent waking up the day of the battle of Marlas, but the author really surprised me.

I loved that someone died at the end of each chapter (at first, at least) but what really made me go ‘oh’ is when Lauret realizes the Damen from “this new reality” is, in fact, his Damen! 

Damen not being with Jokaste was weird to me, but I shrugged it off as a personal choice the author had made. Then, when Damen was talking about abolishing slavery, I was still in denial. ‘Oh, well, some people don’t like to write Damen as a slave owner, which is cool’. And then, when the big reveal finally came, I was just… amazed. I literally put my phone down and went, ‘okay, this person really knows what they’re doing when it comes to writing’. 

I love the little plot twists. In my head, a plot twist most basic example is ‘oh, X is a traitor’ but… this? This is so much better.

Between the Shadow and the Soul by Anonymous

This work was… insanely refreshing, innovative, transgressive, and outrageously good. It does feature a lot of sex scenes, but at the same time, it felt like sex was the least important part of the story. I don’t know how to explain myself when it comes to this fic (and God knows I’ve tried) but… The sex scenes aren’t there just for the smut of it all, if that makes any sense. 

Auguste as a narrator is so unusual, and yet it made the fic so painful and enjoyable! I loved the way it left you wondering just how accurate his POV was. I loved the sex scenes with actual characterization. This author never, not even for one second, stopped focusing on the dynamic between Laurent, Auguste, and Damen. It could be argued that the Laurent/Auguste bit weighted more than the overall OT3 bit, but still… I had literally forgotten what sex scenes were for until I read this fic.

Sex scenes, especially in this particular work, are not parentheses in the story. They’re not there for the reader to take a break from the “actual plot” or “narration”. They are what holds the story together, and they’re opportunities for the reader to learn more about the characters

.

Cherry Wine by SteeleStingray

Yes, I’m back on my bullshit. Yes, I’m talking about CW again. But I’ll make it short because there is no way you don’t know how I feel about this work. If you don’t, check out this comment (which, by the way, is not even a fraction of what I wanted to say to the author when I read the fic). 

What I found innovative and made me go “is this allowed?” about CW is not the idea of an OT3, but rather this particular take on a relationship that consists of three people. I’ve read a few published books that feature similar couples (all of them suck, and when I say they suck I mean it) so I was very hesitant to read this because of that reason. 

Usually, when people write OT3 they pepper in a lot of stuff I don’t like to read about: extreme jealousy, misunderstandings, cheating, weird dynamics that feel stilted, awkward sex scenes where one of the three just sits in a chair and watches the other two like some voyeur from Juan José Saer’s stories. Guess what doesn’t happen in CW? 

Another thing I liked about this work is that it reminded me that themes in fiction aren’t limited to one specific work. This author really likes nicknames. At the time, when I had only read CW, I thought it was just a one-time thing. Turns out, it’s not. An emerald-coloured nightmare also features nicknames. I like this idea that you can tell who wrote something based on little details and narrative choices. It’s like the author is winking at you, going ‘ha, did you get it?’

Ink on Paper by deripmaver

I don’t usually like fics with non-linear narrative because I’m a lazy bitch who can’t keep up. I’d never really seen the point in using flashbacks, scenes from the past, or anything like that because my writing style (oh, fuck off, my writing style, who the fuck do I think I am) is more about references. And then I read this fic. And I was like, ‘okay, I’ve seen the light of not writing everything linearly like an idiot’. 

The Mannequin Gallery by marrieddorks

Yes, I realize I’m talking about all my favorite fics. I feel no shame.

This fic is a Modern AU. Everyone who has ever written a Modern AU knows that one of the trickiest parts is finding characters professions that make sense with who they are/what they like/what they’re good at. This story features Damen as an influencer. That’s it, that’s my whole tweet. 

It reminded me that even when you’re writing a Modern AU (or any sort of AU, really) it’s important to know what the essence of the characters you’re writing is. The way even Jord’s job makes sense… And how it feels like the author didn’t just steal the characters’ names and use them to create a random story (which is valid, too)... and… Okay, this has nothing to do with a plot twist or a narrative device but have you read this Nicaise? Have you? You haven’t read Nicaise until you’ve read this fic.

(and that's why) you're so beautiful now by iwasgonegonegone

This fic is 612 words. It has no plot. One of the tags reads, “listen they're in love and they're cute and that's all i have to say” and I… yes. This fic inspired me to write plot-less stories again. Not only that, it made me enjoy writing them. 

Lately, I’ve been talking to a friend of mine about a new pairing we both like a lot. We go back and forth for hours sometimes just talking about what they’d do, details about the worldbuilding, a billion ‘what-ifs’... and I love it. If one of us sat down to write a story based on all our conversations, it would be a character study fic. It would have, maybe, some plot to it, but… Plot would feel like an excuse to talk about their relationship. And I love that. I fucking hate plot, I hate it, and this… Yes. This fic is like a little slice of life. The author has mentioned before that they enjoy writing poetry (more than longer pieces of fiction) and this story reads like a poem. You know when you read a poem and you get this weird tingly feeling? Read this and feel that, you’re welcome.

The Life We Live by homewithyou

I’ve said before that I don’t go looking for mpreg. Sometimes, mpreg has come looking for me, and I’ve closed my door on its face. I read this fic mainly because I never pay attention to the tags on AO3 (healthy, I know) and I was too busy making myself toast to read the summary. 

I was five paragraphs in and this bit hit me like a fucking electric hammer to the head: “...which had been going haywire more often than not since the pregnancy began five months ago.” I was like, ‘wait, did I—am I reading—why am I—’ and then I just shut my mouth and continued reading. I’m glad I did. I’m glad I didn’t let my narrowmindedness stop me from giving this fic a try. I’m glad people out there are writing stories that they enjoy, about topics a few others would deem controversial. 

This also applies to the Lamen/Auguste fic I mentioned above. What’s the point of writing if you’re not going to take risks and be honest about what you like to write about? It takes honesty and commitment to write anything that strays from the norm. And so I’m glad this person posted this story, because it changed me in a small way (‘what if I shut the fuck up and read more mpreg instead of instantly clicking out?’).

This is another perfect example of how plot is poison and you don’t need it in your life (unless you enjoy poison. In that case consume the plot, write the plot, sniff the plot. And die). A morning in bed, just nuzzling and talking… living life… Again, this made me realize that you can say a lot about two characters just from a morning in bed. It made me want to write 25 pages of dialogue in bed (this and Manuel Puig’s book titled Kiss of the spider woman, which I recommend fervently). 

Plot? In this house? We don’t know her. You’re a strong, independent writer. You don’t need no plot.

For a more general response, I’d say that Steele’s worldbuilding is impeccable and made me look at the setting of stories differently. 

Foreshadowing is always amazing, but I haven’t read a lot of fics where it’s a prominent element (which is not to say authors aren’t good at it, I just don’t read enough fics to give you a good example of this). 

I really like oxymorons and when writers use funny adverbs. GallaPlacidia’s adverbs are to die for, so definitely check out her stories if you’re interested in that. 

I also love the way xlydiadeetz writes archs. She does this thing where she divides the story into different… timelines? archs? I… don’t even know. Amazing.

I hope this answer made sense. 

[joonsrack]

+Pairing: Kim Taehyung x Jeon Jungkook

+Genre: rags to riches au, kind of college au, SFW, slow burn, WIP.

+Word count: ~2.2k (for this chapter)

+Chapter: Prologue | 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | ?

+Summary:

“Funny how even in this ridiculously absurd situation, life had made Taehyung a third-wheel. Or a sixth.

If Bangtan Dry Cleaning was his fairy godmother, Jimin his little mouse, the jacket his magic dress and the club scene his ball, where the fuck was his prince charming?

A knock on the door pulled him out of his thoughts.”

+Warnings: very cliché, very unrealistic.

+A/N: betaed by the amazing @shadowsremedy​ 💖

It all started innocently enough.

“I can’t believe August D and Hope are a few miles away from here, and I won’t be able to be in their general vicinity.” Jimin signed for the nth time after looking at his twitter feed.

Taehyung looked over at his friend, curious as to what had his friend in such a low spirit that night. “Why? Are they doing a gig somewhere around?”

“Even sadder.’’ He sighed again, putting his phone away and aggressively zipping up a garment bag. ”They’re hanging out at Octagon tonight, and well, Octagon’s cover to access the VIP lounge is 150,000 won, so completely unreasonable for my wallet. Plus, I’ve got nothing to wear that doesn’t scream ‘I’m a dirt poor struggling make up artist’. Even if I somehow found a way to get the money, I would never be allowed up to the VIP floor, not with Octagon’s dress code.”

Taehyung was about to morosely agree with his friend when the zipper of the garment bag he was zipping up got stuck on the Versace dress stored in it. Something hit him then. A beam of light brought things into a new perspective. Or maybe it was the fluorescent?

He was closing up shop in a place full of luxury clothes, some pieces more expensive than a whole year of his rent, and none of it would be missed by their owner for the night.

Bangtan Dry Cleaning, Gangnam’s all-time-favorite dry cleaner for VIPs to drop off their barely worn high-end brand pieces, was closed on the weekend. He and Jimin were the last men on scene since their boss usually left early on Friday nights.

Having the keys to the shop also meant having access to an unlimited amount of resources; clothes that could easily be borrowed for a few hours, refreshed over the weekend, and found undisturbed by their boss on Monday morning.

Ok, so maybe the idea had been slowly simmering inside of him for months.

“What?’’ Jimin pressed, pout deepening. “I know that look, Tae.”

“Say the clothing part was covered, would you have enough for the regular entry fees?”

His eyebrows pinched in confusion, trying to understand Taehyung’s point.

“I guess? But that would be useless, I doubt they’d hang out with the regular people. They’ll probably stick to the VIP section… ’’

Taehyung’s lips slowly crept into one of his signature mischievous smile.

“I think I have an idea.”

Jimin took one look at him and shook his head violently. “Last time you said that we had to hitchhike for four hours in the rain in the back of a pick-up truck to get back home. I might be poor, but I have a pretty face to maintain. You don’t get to have ideas anymore.”

“Jimin, just this once, you’ll have to trust me.”

About an hour later, dripping from head to toe in designer clothes carefully selected by Taehyung, both men exchanged perplexed looks.

“Is this what it feels like? To be rich? I’m pretty sure I could buy a year's worth of groceries with my outfit.” Jimin said, scratching his head with stiff movement, feeling out of place in his newly borrowed Gucci bomber jacket.

Taehyung was messing around with his blazer, a million-something-won Christian Pellizzari piece he had his eyes on since he’d seen it earlier.

“That jacket you’re wearing is worth 5 million won alone.” He said, then caught his friend’s reaction in the mirror.

“Five what now?” Jimin repeated, face going pale and body tensing up like any wrong movement could rip the jacket apart. “I want it off,” he said, voice quiet but with a cutting edge. “I’m not doing this.”

“Hey, look here,” Taehyung grabbed him delicately by the face, both hands framing his jaw. “Jimin. Jiminie. We’ll have to be careful, but everything will be fine. It’ll all be fine.”

“I’m not so sure. 5 million won, Taehyung. Million.”

“We’re literally the person to come to if anything gets stained. We got this. Plus, you look amazing! And if we play our cards right, you might get to meet with- with … Automne D and-“

Jimin couldn’t hold back a small snicker, finally relaxing a little. “Agust D.”

“Yeah, that's what I said. And, huh,-“

“Hope.”

“Yes, exactly. Now go get your makeup case, you got two faces to beat.”

While Jimin was counting the creased bills in his hands, making sure he had enough for the regular entree fees, Taehyung was observing the entrance of the club on the other side of the street. The line was slowly getting longer, while no one was let in. They would not make it inside anytime soon, his friend’s favorite musicians probably long gone by then, but Jimin didn’t seem to have noticed.

“Jiminie?”

“Hmm?” He said, not looking away from his small change he was now recounting.

“You remember those jeans I made for you, perfectly tailored to make you look bomb-ass-tic?”

“Why are you bringing that up, Tae? That was ages ago, I told you I was sorry I ripped them-”

“That’s not the point,” Taehyung said, now facing his friend. “Remember how you walked in those? Like the weight of the world’s beauty was pushing your chin up and making you look like a stuck up asshole?”

“A beautiful one, yeah.”

“I’m going to need you to walk like that again. Channel that beautiful stuck up asshole.”

“Ooohkay..?”

“Now, let’s go.”

“Wait, I think I’m missing a bill.”

“Put your money away. If we do this right, you won’t need it.”

His friend made an interrogative noise but pushed the money back into his (borrowed) pocket nevertheless.

Then, after making sure Jimin was following with his chin high as the sky, he started walking the walk, the same walk he taught the students that modelled for his collection at the traditional end of semester runaway.

Taehyung crossed the street without looking, ignoring Jimin’s muffled shrieks as he made his way to the entrance. The bouncer, a 6ft superhuman looking man, probably hearing all the commotion of cars braking and honking, was now making direct eye contact with him. Taehyung held it coldly, going for ‘unimpressed important person’. Celebrities were usually let in for free, right? So if they could manage to pass off as some idols, maybe they could make this plan work. New groups were popping up left and right these days; with their looks, it wouldn’t be too much of a stretch for people to assume Taehyung and Jimin were members of a group or something.

He knew his neutral face made him look kind of intimidating, all he was hoping for was for Jimin to not freak out.

Without a word, once the street was crossed and most of the people in line had gone silent looking at them, the bouncer took a step aside, opening the rope barrier and nodding them in.

Not risking a look back at his friend, Taehyung patted the bouncer’s shoulder on the way in, hoping the man wouldn’t notice the slight tremble of them.

The bouncer followed them in, sidestepping them to whisper something into the ear of a big burly man posted inside. Taehyung couldn’t hear anything over the loud music, but he didn’t like it.

He didn’t know how but they had somehow made it inside without paying, and all he needed now was to find a way to get into the VIP lounge. The look on the big burly man’s face though, it wasn’t good.

The bouncer went back to his post outside, leaving them with the literal tank standing in front of them and blocking their access to the rest of the club. He was studying them with a crooked eyebrow, something nonchalant in his look.

But if Taehyung was good at something, it was mirroring those kinds of looks.

“This way, sir.” He finally said after stretching the minutes, barely loud enough to be heard over the loud thumping of the bass playing somewhere further into the club. He felt Jimin’s cold hand grab at his wrist but followed nonetheless. The worst that could happen would be to be kicked out.

Which is not what happened.

They were led through a narrow hallway and up a little staircase, then through a door with another bouncer. And then, they were in a room with a whole wall made of glass that overlooked the main dance floor.

Sitting in the softened light of the luxurious lounge were a few people, conversing among each other in various corners of the room furnished with little couches and tables.

Taehyung could make out at least five famous people, and the rest were probably rich chaebols who got to hang out with them.

Somehow they had ended up in the VIP Lounge much sooner than expected, and Taehyung suddenly started believing in miracles.

They sat on one of the empty couches, a drink menu rapidly dropped in front of them.

“Tonight is on the house.” The tankman said as parting words and promptly disappeared.

An attractive waitress took his place only a fraction of second later, sporting a cool smile.

“What could I get you, sir … ” She said, dragging the last vowel in a question.

“Kim.” Taehyung said, “And Park,” He added. “Just sparkling water for now, please. Thank you.”

The waitress bowed slightly before disappearing behind yet another door, leaving them alone save for the people softly conversing among themselves.

“I think I’m gonna pee my pants in excitement,” Jimin whispered, voice going high. “Is this what you meant when you said you had an idea?”

“Up until that part where they let us in,” he said, voice equally as soft. “I have no idea how we ended up in the VIP lounge without paying. Didn’t even have to try.”

“Maybe they mistook us for someone else?”

“Maybe? she asked for our names, though.” Taehyung took the drink menu to look like he was doing something. Truth is, he didn’t know how to act. He felt like ordering the wrong drink would out them as poor people. Most of the bottles listed on the menu went over 200,000 won, though. “D’you think ordering a somaek will blow our cover?”

“We don’t even know what our cover is!” Jimin said, panicking a little. He suddenly didn’t look so excited to be there. “They clearly think we’re something or somebody we’re not.”

“Breath Jiminie.” He said, putting a hand on his knee. “You have got to stay calm. We aren’t robbing a bank here. We just somehow got really fucking lucky. Plus, they said it was on the house, we can drink things tonight we will most likely never get to drink again.”

As if on cue, the waitress showed up with a tray, unloading it with graceful and practiced movements, starting with two crystal tumblers in which she delicately dropped perfectly shaped ice cubes with some golden ice thongs. Then, she set on the table a cone-shaped bottle adorned with little crystals, and topped off with a literal crown-shaped cap.

After she was done pouring their glasses, she retreated behind that same door.

“Jiminie. Jimin. What the hell. That’s Fillico.”

“What?” He said, reaching for the tumbler and bringing it up to his mouth, the excitement of the night making his throat feel parched.

“That bottle of sparkling water is worth almost 250,000 won.”

He froze, mouth going tense, and put the tumbler back down. “Honestly, this night is getting too much for my heart,” Jimin said, just as the most handsome man they had ever laid eyes on appeared in front of them.

“I just heard the most fantastically hilarious rumor.” The man said without waiting for introductions, amused smile making his handsome features look childish. He had his hands on his slim hips, body framed by a Balenciaga outfit. The loose t-shirt stretched by a set of wide shoulders made it look classy yet comfy.

He carried on, not letting them speak.

“Apparently, terrifyingly handsome heirs of a mob empire are sipping sparkling water in my VIP lounge. Would you happen to have seen them?”

Jimin and Taehyung shared a look of understanding, the reason they were sitting where they were sitting finally dawning on them. After a stretch of silence, the man’s amusement not receding, Taehyung finally answered.

“It’s the eyeliner, isn’t it?” He said, aiming for vague.

The man’s smile grew.

“Now, maybe my petrified employees might have mistaken you two for scary mobsters, with that blue steel look in your eyes, but I went to school with a bunch of heir and heiress of the mafia and I know one when I see one. I bet you two aren’t.”

Jimin shrugged as their only response, which prompted a peal of laughter from their interlocutor.

“I’m Kim Seokjin, my family owns this place. I’ve never seen my employees so terrified. It’s very entertaining, especially our bouncers. They’re all combing the web for information on the family trees of the main mod clan of Korea as we speak.” He sat down with them, presenting them his hand.

“Park Jimin,” his friend said, reciprocating the hand. “I can play up my Busan satoori if you want.” He added with a shy smile.

“That would be fantastic. Maybe fake a phone call where you make super vague allusions to things that seem illegal?”

“Just tell me when.” He answered with a small laugh. Then Seokjin turned his attention to him.

“Kim Taehyung,” he said, “My satoori is less intimidating though.”

“Just keep your handsome face neutral and you won't have to talk to scare them.” Seokjin said with a wink, making Taehyung try to hold back a blush.

“Is it your first time at Octagon? I’m pretty sure I would have remembered you guys if you’d been here before.”

“We don’t really go out… But-”

“Jin-Hyung!”

The three of them turned around to watch a small group of people approach. They all looked familiar to Taehyung, but he couldn’t remember from where. It’s only when he saw Jimin’s face, blank with shock, did he remember the original reason why they were sitting in a VIP lounge, drinking 250,000 won sparkling water, dressed in borrowed luxury clothes and chatting with someone who probably made three times their monthly salary in a minute.

There, walking toward them, was the rapping duo August D and Hope, and their equally talented and acclaimed friend RM.

And that moment was the beginning of the beginning.

Previous chapter | Next Chapter 

[purplesurveys]

722

How many walls are in your bedroom? It’s your typical four-wall bedroom. What do you think about Fall Out Boy? I like their older stuff and my favorite album of theirs is Folie à Deux by a mile. Haven’t been able to keep up much with their new material, but I definitely don’t hate the stuff they’ve been putting out. Do you know where Guatemala is? I wouldn’t know where to find it on a map but I know it’s somewhere in the middle of North and South America? At least I’m pretty sure? Do you find musicians attractive? I mean being a musician isn’t necessarily a criterion for me to be attracted to someone, but sure I’ve come across good-looking musicians in the past. Do you like hard boiled eggs? They’re okay but I like soft-boiled more.

Do you know anyone named Hector? Nope. Would you move to another country for the one you love? We’ve had this conversation before and she has vehemently scolded me when I said that I honestly would, but idk that’s me. Then again, we’ve never been in that situation so I don’t really know how I’d actually act when it came to that. Do you own an instrument? We have a keyboard, but it’s for everyone’s use. I don’t own any of my own. What do you usually have for lunch? Ever since the quarantine started my family has only been having very late breakfast and dinner, so I’ve technically been skipping lunch for over a month now. But before this whole thing started my lunch would typically be whatever my mom can cook, which is pretty limited – fried chicken, sisig, and giniling with varied soups are her usuals, if I remember right. Ever had a pregnancy scare? I would have absolutely no reason to have one. What do you think about the Purple People Eater? I’ve never heard of this before. What the hell is that looool Are you pale or tan? Tan. What's the weather like right now? It’s windy, just a tad chilly, and comfortable enough during the night which I’m thankful for, but the days are excruciatingly hot. Sometimes it’ll be very humid and the air becomes too heavy and difficult to breathe in, and it usually means it will rain that night, but that’s seldom. I get headaches almost everyday now because of the rapid temperature changes, and it suuuucks because we’ve run out of Biogesic in the house. Do you like cats? No. We have such different personalities and I can tell all of the ones I’ve encountered don’t like me. But for the next few days I’ll probably have a brief soft spot for cats because my sister’s cat, Arlee, passed away last Sunday. We were never close and her tail always got bushy whenever she saw me, but it was the first time I had to deal with a pet cat dying and I was still pretty shattered by it. What's the best part about Wal*Mart? I dunno, I can’t relate. Do you think Akon is amazing or annoying? I think neither of him. I mostly don’t mind him. Do you like the buzz cigarettes give you? I’ve... never gotten a ~buzz from them before? Am I smoking wrong? Lmao. But uh idk it’s weirdly pleasurable overall, and now I’m ever so slightly disgusted with myself for even being able to say that now. Are you a practical joker? Nope, I hate pranks. Do you like pop? This is slang for soda right? No I don’t. I feel like my tongue is being cut off every time I try it out and that always ruins the whole experience for me. What are you looking forward to? Eating the box of sushi sitting beside me. Angela surprised me for my birthday and had the sushi delivered to my house :) Have you ever laughed so hard you couldn't breathe? I’m sure most of us have. What's your favorite band? This question has been everywhere recently. I like Paramore the most but just so I give a different answer for once, I also enjoy alt-J. Do you feel stupid when you spill things on yourself? My mom has conditioned me to think this way, so yes. I feel pretty stupid when I drop or spill anything. Are you excited for summer? In the current global situation? It’s hard to feel excited for anything, especially when experts have recommended closing everything down until at least August. Have you ever snuck out? No. My mom would’ve found out easily. It’s always easier to ask for permission cause she’s never said no anyway. When's the last time you were kissed? :( A month and two weeks. Would you ever eat popcorn & salsa? I’ve never tried them together; I think it’d be a weird combination plus salsa already isn’t my dip of choice anyway. Do you sleep with the television on? Nah but close. I’ll sometimes sleep with Netflx or YouTube playing on my phone, depending on what I feel like listening to before falling asleep. Would you ever want to be able to be invisible? I’ll fantasize about it sometimes, sure. What does your favorite shirt look like? Don’t have a current favorite shirt since I can’t go out anyway. What's your favorite scent? Gabie’s perfume or any freshly cooked food. Skype, Msn, Aim, or Yahoo? All of these are pretty much ancient now. What's your favorite time of the day? These days I’m really loving these hours in particular – midnight onwards. It’s nice to finally be alone considering I’m cooped up in a house with family literally all day, and it’s nice to use the alone time listening to lo-fi and answering a survey or two. Do you hate the phrase ''love ya'' when coming from a boyfriend/girlfriend? Yeah it wouldn’t sit well with me if it came from Gabie. But I say this regularly to my friends. What do you do when someone in the room has b.o.? Look away if I’m forced to be with them, or just move away altogether if I’m not talking to them directly. What movie would you like to see right now? Not really in a movie watching mood rn. I just watched Two for the Road a couple of nights ago and that’s enough for me, hahaha. How many times a day do you shower? Just once. What do you think of the name Chloe? It’s cute! It’s already common where I live so it’s not one of my top baby name choices, but I really love the name and I think this spelling in particular is cute. Do you like Hollister? When I was 14, sure. I was mostly invested in them because Louis Tomlinson of 1D’s girlfriend used to be a Hollister model HAHAHAHA. These days I largely don’t care for the brand. What's your favorite alcoholic drink? I always go for a Long Island Iced Tea whenever they have it on a menu. Do you like 80's music? Like, 0.0003% of it. Just not my decade for music. Do you have to wear glasses or have contacts? I wear glasses. I choose not to wear contacts. Do you play Halo or Gears of War? No for both. How do you feel about cleaning? I think it’s...necessary lol? I don’t really actively feel anything for it, other than it has to be done every now and then. What do you think of emo kids? I think we should leave ‘em be. Do you like the movie Grease? I don’t like musicals. Do you like singing? Only by myself or if I’m absolutely shitfaced drunk.

What's your favorite Jim Carrey movie? Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, WITHOUT A DOUBT. There's a knock at your door at 4 in the morning; what do you do? Welp, given that there’s been a recent disturbance in our village where a construction worker broke into a neighbor’s home, I’ll probably be more wary this time around and just ignore it. I’ll stay alert for a few minutes to see whether they start breaking in after being ignored or simply walk away so that I’m ready to wake up my parents and start screaming if they do the former. Do you like peaches? I hate all fruits. Ever lost a best friend? Not to death, but I’ve drifted apart from a best friend.

Ever heard of a town called Wadena? No. Only Wakanda, heh. Have you ever been to a funeral? I’ve never been to a funeral; I’ve only visited wakes. We were pretty sheltered when it came to death and I would dread the day I’d have to go to my first funeral because I don’t know if I’d be capable of processing the events. What's your favorite sport? Pro wrestling if it counts. If it doesn’t, tennis is my favorite to watch while table tennis is my favorite to play. What do you think about homeschooling? Egh the homeschooled kids where I live always turn out to be a bit weird or not very sociable, so I’m kinda biased against it. I don’t know if homeschooling in other countries can say the same, though. What do you think about French people? I don’t think anything of them. Thankful for their pain au chocolat though. Do you like your parents? Yes. They’ve worked harder than anyone I know to get to where they are now and to be able to provide as much as they have for their three kids. I respect them tremendously for that. I just wish we were more open and expressive and affectionate as a family in general; that would literally solve like 9732 of my problems. And I also wish that my mom wasn’t verbally abusive at times. What do you think about Minnesota? OMG nothing, stop. Do/did you like high school? It had its ups and downs. I’m mostly in the middle about it, like I can’t say I enjoyed it cause then that would betray the things I hated about it, and I can’t say I mostly hated it cause that would invalidate the good times. I did learn a lot though, that I can say for sure. Do you have any Asian friends? All of my friends are Asian. Is it cold where you live? Not even barely. Do you find accents attractive? No. I find most of them difficult to follow which is why I always need subtitles when I view anything foreign haha. Do you hate it when people make spelling mistakes? No, unless they act like a know-it-all but still fuck up their spelling. Would you ever let your boyfriend/girlfriend do your makeup? I would DEFINITELY let them do my makeup – she’d be the first person I would run to hahaha because I don’t know the first thing about applying makeup. Do you like to shop? Not like every week, but it is fun to fall down the rabbit hole and start grabbing clothes heh. How long are you on the computer during a 24 hour period? These days I’m not on it for long, which I’m really happy about! When the lockdown started I was really worried that I was gonna be too dependent on my laptop and never close it for the entire quarantine period, but the opposite has been happening. I really just open it in the evening when I take surveys, so that’s around 3-4 hours. Is money really that important? It is for me, and for everyone else in this third world Southeast Asian country. Have you ever broken a bone? Nope. Who is your favorite family member? My dog. What size bed do you have? Just a twin size, nothing special. Can’t wait to earn on my own and buy me a much bigger mattress. What age do you want to be married? Late 20s, if possible. I want to be ready for kids by the time I hit my 30s.   What's the last thing your wrote? A Facebook message for Gabie. What do you think of your town? It’s mostly uneventful here, but I think I prefer living in a calm city cause I suppose it would be exhausting living in a city that’s so hectic all the time. My situation also gives me a healthy balance of busy and quiet which I think has helped my wellbeing. When's the last time you played hide & go seek? Years and years and years ago. I think it was when we first moved into the house and it was still mostly empty.

[doom-dreaming]

College AU - Margaritas, Mal, and Moze

@marigold-magpie HERE IT IS AND IT’S....it got away from me. and it’s more the girls making fun of Troy than anything else, honestly. also i’ve edited and edited this and i’m still not totally happy with it, but   w h a t e v e r

(Read it here on Ao3!)

“Ooh…margaritas!” Sasha practically pounced all the way from the door to the nearest blender.

“Courtesy of your selfless donations…” Tyreen tapped her knife against the edge of each as she listed them. “We got strawberry, lime, and…” She dipped her finger into the last one. “…peach! If you want some variety.”

“Straight tequila shots?”

Tyreen snatched the bottle away from Fiona’s wandering hand. “Nuh uh. We wanna have fun, not get shitfaced. Besides…” she tilted the bottle, frowning. “Miiiight not have enough for the rest of the mix—”

“What’s up, nerds?!”

“Funny, coming from you.” Tyreen raised an eyebrow, but didn't look up from the lime she was slicing.

Gaige huffed out a half-offended sound. “At least I’m not majoring in sociology, or whatever.” She dumped her backpack beside the couch. “What’re you gonna do with that, anyway?”

“Start a cult?”

“Yeah, good luck. I’ve seen your ECHOgram, you’ve only got, like, 500 followers.”

“Compared to your…what, fifty?” Tyreen leveled a smug grin at the redhead’s pout. “Nice try.” She licked the lime juice from her fingers and waved the knife at Moze, who was still standing semi-awkwardly near the door. “Just make yourself comfy, hon. Nothin’s off-limits. Except Troy’s room, but you don’t wanna go in there, anyway.”

“Uh…speaking of Troy…“ Sasha’s voice drifted over from the couch. "He’s got more followers than both of you.” She held up her phone. “743.”

Simultaneous cries of indignance flooded the small room.

“What the FUCK—”

“How in the hell—” Gaige beelined for the couch, her drink forgotten. Without hesitation, she vaulted over the back and landed next to Sasha. “I didn’t even know he had one! Lemme see. Oh, Ty, it’s you!”

Tyreen pinched the bridge of her nose. “Drunk karaoke? Yeah…” She moodily garnished her drink and joined the rest of them. “I just don’t get how he has more…” She mellowed into grumbling as she curled up on a chair in the corner of the room. “…fucker.”

Gaige snickered, popping back to her feet to retrieve her drink. “The fatal weakness in your perfect sibling relationship, huh?”

“I’m not that jealous, I just, y’know, spend hours doing tutorials and editing the videos and he records thirty seconds of me singing 'Hey, Mama’ after a dozen shots and…” She glowered at Sasha. “You and Fi would never—”

Fiona’s loud laughter cut her off. “Oh, I definitely would.”

Sasha agreed with a disappointed nod.

Tyreen sighed. “It’s petty and it shouldn’t bother me, but…”

“But that’s why we’re here,” Fiona reminded. “To drink and bitch!”

“To drink and bitch!” the rest of them echoed, raising their glasses.

“Or just drink,” Moze piped.

Fiona smirked. “I knew I liked you.”

“I mean, I just got here and so far? No complaints.”

Gaige plopped down beside her on the floor and patted her arm. “Valid.”

“Okay, then I’ll start.” Fiona took a long drink before setting the glass carefully onto the coffee table. “So...my ex—”

A collective groan rose from the group.

“—yeah, he swore up and down that he wouldn’t start shit with Rhys, but what does he do?” She didn’t let the question hang long. “Starts shit with Rhys!”

Sasha kicked her feet up. “Guy’s a fucking asshole. I don’t know what you ever saw in him, honestly.”

“Yeah, that makes two of us. Rhys is a dumbass, but at least he’s not a lying, cheating—”

The front door of the apartment opened just loudly enough to bring the conversation to a halt. Troy shuffled in with his bag hanging off of one arm and his jacket bundled in the other, oblivious to anyone else. He kicked the door shut, abandoned his bag next to the kitchen counter, and made it halfway across the apartment before Tyreen cleared her throat.

“…what’cha got there, bro?”

“Uh…”

“You look kinda...guilty.”

“No, I, um…” He tossed his hair. Readjusted his glasses. Heaved a defeated sigh. "...it's a cat.” Sure enough, the jacket mewled.

Instant mayhem.

“A cat?!”

“Don’t get it near me! I forgot to take my allergy meds!”

“I hope you don’t want to keep it—”

“Everybody shut the fuck up, you’re scaring him.” Troy elbowed his way past his sister, toward the coffee table. “I found him around the back of the building. We don’t have to keep him, I just figured I’d get him outta the cold." He set the jacket down, pulled back a few loosely-folded layers, and extracted a wiggling orange kitten. “Buuuut…I might’ve named him already…“

“Troy…”

He tucked the kitten to his chest, looking offended. "Just for tonight, Ty, I promise. In the morning I’ll take him to the shelter—don’t look at me like that.” He grabbed his jacket from the table and turned on his heel. “I’m gonna give him a bath.”

“Troy, you know campus policy—”

“Fuck campus policy! I’m not putting him back out!” The slam of the bathroom door sounded like an exclamation mark.

“Don’t get rabies!” Sasha called after him.

“Bold of you to assume he doesn’t already have it…” Tyreen dropped her head into her hands. “Fuckin’ idiot.”

Gaige’s grin was too wide to be innocent. “Hey, Troy! What’s his name!?”

“Mal!” came the muffled reply, followed by a sharp, “Oh, shit—ow!”

“Cute!”

“Stop encouraging him,” Tyreen groaned. “I’m at least ninety percent of his impulse control and I don’t need you making things worse.” She paused, then let her head fall back with a weary sigh. “But I guess as far as breakup behavior goes, rescuing a cat is better than rebounding…”

“How bad was that breakup, anyway?”

“Lethal, based on how he’s acting.” She rubbed at her eyes. “I…shouldn’t be mean. Troy gets invested. I think he was waaaay more into it than August was—”

Sasha nearly choked on her drink.

“You good?”

She brushed off Fiona’s back-patting. “Yeah, I’m good, I’m good. Just—” cough “—went the wrong way. All good.”

“You should let him have a couple drinks with us,” Moze suggested. “Maybe—”

Four voices shouted, “No!” in unison.

“Or…not?”

Tyreen huffed. “You know how most people have an alcohol tolerance? Troy has an alcohol intolerance. That first day you met us? Yeah, he was fucking trashed ‘cause he spent the whole night trying to drown his broken heart.”

Troy’s voice drifted out from behind the bathroom door. “…I heard that!”

“It’s not a secret!” Tyreen yelled back.

Troy grumbled something inaudible, then emerged. Shirtless. The kitten squirmed inside a towel. “Little dude scratches like a motherfucker… Someone wanna hold him while I…?” He motioned to the red slices across his chest with his free hand.

Tyreen glanced around the group. Fiona was still holding her hand over her nose and mouth, shaking her head. Moze was…definitely focused on Troy’s abs. “Anyone?” Gaige and Sasha just shrugged. She narrowed her eyes. “If you’re trying to trick me into keeping this cat, I swear to God… Fine. Hand him over.”

“You don't have to make such a huge fucking deal out of it,” Troy complained.

Tyreen's glare was downright scathing. “Then apparently you don't remember the baby bird. Or the snake. Or the—”

“Yeah, okay, whatever. Just take the cat.” He pushed the towel into her hands. “I swear it's only for tonight.”

“I don't believe you…!” she sang at his retreating back. He flipped her off before shutting the bathroom door again. She rolled her eyes.

Moze's voice was the first to break the silence. “So, uh...didn't know Troy wears glasses.”

“He doesn't, usually. But—oh no, no way—” Tyreen intercepted the kitten as it made an attempt to escape. “—he's blind as shit—”

“Heard that too!”

“—and wears contacts most the time.” She cocked an eyebrow at Moze. “But be honest, that's not what you were lookin’ at.”

The younger girl's face flushed a shade darker. She stirred at her drink, mumbling, “Just didn't expect he'd be…”

“Like that?” Gaige filled in. “Yeah, I didn't expect it either the first time—” She cut herself off abruptly. “Uh.”

“The first time what...?” Sasha asked cautiously.

Tyreen rolled her eyes, aware that she was the only one not acting like Gaige had just confessed to murder. “They hooked up. It was, like, a year ago.”

“WHAT?!”

“It was at an engineering thing! We were both drunk!” Gaige shrieked in an attempt to defend herself. “Neither of us remember anything about it! It just sorta..." She gestured helplessly. "We woke up with, like, half our clothes on the floor and honestly I wouldn't have believed anything happened except I had dried c—”

“OH MY GOD, SHUT THE FUCK UP!” Troy yelled. “Literally no one needs to know the details!”

“Yeah, I'm with him on that,” Sasha admitted, her expression sour.

Tyreen attempted to hide a snicker behind her hand. Her unoccupied hand. The hand that wasn't scratching the kitten behind the ears. “The only reason I found out was ‘cause as soon as he got back and had his head in the toilet, he started cryin’ about it—”

Troy stalked out of the bathroom, scowling. “I was not crying—”

“You were crying and puking and—”

“And now I'm leaving. Gimme the cat—wait, are you petting—?”

“Shut up. Take him.” The kitten, lulled by Tyreen's attention, gave a confused ‘mrrrp?’ as he was roused by yet another handoff. “Go...listen to some music or something.”

“So you can tell more lies about me? I see how it is.”

“Oh my God, would you just take your emotional support animal and go, already? Please?”

“C'mon, Mal,” Troy sniffed. “We don't need them anyway.”

Tyreen gulped down the rest of her drink as he disappeared into his room, half in an attempt to not snark back at him and half in an attempt to get buzzed. “Anyone want refills?” she sighed once he closed the door.

Fiona silently raised her empty glass.

“You know, you're the only one here with a brother,” Gaige mused.

“And ain't I lucky,” Tyreen drawled, taking Fiona's glass and slouching back into the kitchen. “I mean...I love him, obviously. But he's a pain in the ass.” She paused, cocking her head toward his bedroom door. “Okay, I think we're good. He can't hear us. What'd you have, Fi? Lime?”

“Yep.”

“So...should I or should I not try to...y'know.” Moze clicked her tongue and nodded in the direction of Troy's room.

“If you wanna go out with my brother, you have my blessing. Or...whatever. But...maybe don't go for the kill immediately? Give him some time. Get to know him first.”

“More like know what you're getting into,” Gaige joked.

“I...think I've got a pretty good idea.”

Tyreen tuned them out and took another long drink of her margarita. Troy's follower count was starting to make sense.

****** @corpseyb0nes @afterthedreamer @mischiefsilvertongue @tricerathotss @vanderlinde-exe @ayilachan @zipp0flare @luxury-of-insanity @vanillabuttercreamm @anni000001 @imchaoticnerd @pepper-demon 

[flvshlights]

courtney eaton. 24. genderfluid. they & them. the front bottoms. | i can’t believe i just saw LUCINDA “LUKE” ARCHULETTA walking out of cadence records. they’re the GUITAR & LEAD VOCAL from the INDIE ROCK group WE TRIED USING A BAND NAME GENERATOR who have been in the industry for SIX YEARS. the tabloids love to focus on their ALOOF nature , but they’re also pretty HONEST and they seem to give off a vibe that reminds people of TYING FLANNELS AROUND YOUR WAIST, NEVER BEING WARM ENOUGH, PLAYING AN ACOUSTIC GUITAR IN A SHARP TUXEDO, CLAIMING YOU DON’T SMOKE MARIJUANA WHEN YOU DO, THE COMFORT AT THE BOTTOM OF A SWIMMING POOL. 

                                     she started talking backwards , but nothing                                      good it brings her. so the next time that she                                      sees him, it’ll be peace sign + middle finger.                                      to listen as you read.

listen i always say i’ll stick with one muse and that never happens so i’ll just skip the part here where i berate myself for being weAK and instead introduce u to lukey-pookie here !! they’re a very new muse ( while also combining some essences of other muses of mine ) since normally i pick from a premade roster of my own ocs and normally use courtney for a... very different character but 1.) i’m gay and 2.) i love the front bottoms so HERE WE GO !

tws : depression, divorce, arrest, drug usage / overdose

HISTORY

So Luke was born to a regular working class family in Wilmington, Delaware - they have some relation with the famous DuPont family that built their name there, but don’t have anything to show for it since a few generations ago Luke’s great grandmother cut off the rest of her family and now they don’t speak. So Archuletta it is.

Their mom worked a typical 9-5 job and their dad was an aspiring painter - but he was always... sick. Not sick in the physical sense, no - sick in the fact he never was himself. Sick in way that Luke always thought he was so tired and sad and nothing could ever cheer him up, and they rarely spent much time with him due to his tendencies to keep to himself. So that led to an early divorce between him and Luke’s mother when they were about six years old.

So Luke’s life was relatively normal. Maybe even too normal for them. And they’d try and put themselves out there - even joining musical theatre in attempts to try and find “their group.” Musical theatre was where they’d meet Krista.

A beautiful girl who had a passion for Broadway, booze, and marijuana - she’d become Luke’s greatest friend, and even taking Luke to meet their friends she hung out with regularly after class. But they weren’t the kids you’d want to bring home to hang out with in your parents’ house. No, in fact - they were the opposite.

Bad things, those friends did - well - bad ( or rather, illegal ) things, and Luke followed along. Such as smoking pot and getting caught for it, spraypainting and defiling public areas, maybe getting into a fight or two. In an effort to fit in, Luke would do the same - but they faced the consequences they’d never thought - considering those kids seemed invincible. Untouchable. 

Setting off fireworks from the roof of an abandoned building it a bad idea. Getting arrested the cops is an even worse idea. Your friends running off before they can get caught, leaving you alone to wait for your mom to pick you up... The worst idea.

Nobody came to check on them after that.

Not even Krista.

But the next day, Luke hung out with them like nothing was wrong, following that crowd still - and it’d only reach a breaking point when they were sixteen and had to call the ambulance since Luke found Krista in the bathroom of a party unconscious due to overdose. And thank god she survived - 

And there they were again, without many friends since Krista was seemingly the only person who even came close to genuinely liking them and everyone else, they barely knew anything about. And Luke would grow, finishing high school and clinging to the only other friend they had since childhood - being convinced to write out their issues since by NOW, Luke maybe turned out a bit more cynical than they used to be.

Writings of prose and poetry turned to translating that to music - and that would be the beginning of their new life: We Tried Using A Band Name Generator.

ABOUT ‘WE TRIED’: 

‘We Tried Using A Band Name Generator’ - or more conveniently just referred to as ‘We Tried’ is probably Luke’s pride and joy. It was their friend’s idea for them to originally write out how they felt - and they mutually came up with the decision to try and write songs out of that.

A small band from Wilmington didn’t seem like it was going to get notice, and it took a little while, sure - it started with an EP titled Slow Dance to Soft Rock ( 2013 ) that made Cadence turn their way. Since the indie community definitely liked the acoustic sounds paired with raw, blunt, honest emotions pushed out in songs like The Beers and Swimming Pool. And that was when they got signed.

The first album they’d release would be six months later - self-tilted, We Tried Using A Band Name Generator. They didn’t have too much of a following at the time, but they were making good momentum enough to convince them to keep going.

Things were going so well, in fact, that during touring, Luke & their best friend / drummer actually attempted dating since - there had to be a reason they worked so well together. There had to be SOME feelings. But a million arguments later and stressful tours, overall mentally testing experiences, pushing out an EP called Rose which was as amazing as it was tacing to complete... they couldn’t do it. It was thought that when their best friend left the group in early 2016, it was thought that everyone’s new favorite indie rock group was done for.

And... Luke couldn’t let that happen. It was selfish, too, in the sense that We Tried was their biggest method of release and comfort. So instead of just giving up, they got off from tour and IMMEDIATELY hit the studio for recording and song-writing.

The product of a few months of straight work would result in their 2016 album , Talon of the Hawk - all songs pulling experiences from the split between them and their drummer to their experiences with Krista in high school. 

Au Revoir/Adios was 100% written the day after their ex-drummer left. 

Another year of touring and thankfully, four more members joined the group - producing the EP Needy When I’m Needy as a sneak peak of what was new to come. A few months later , a surprise album called Back on Top would come out. 

The next three years would work well - with the band releasing another EP titled Ann and the inklings sprinkled of the next album - Going Grey.  

SO IN CASE THAT WAS TOO COMPLEX BC I RAMBLE... again, general timeline:

February 2013: Release of Slow Dance to Soft Rock

March 2013: We Tried is signed to Cadence

August 2014: Release of Self-Titled.

September 2014: Both members of We Tried start dating.

July 2015: Release of Rose.

December 2015: Nearing the end of touring, We Tried’s drummer quits and the pair breaks up. Touring officially ends later that month.

January 2016: Luke Archuletta announces they’ll be taking time to focus on a brand new album.

August 2016: Release of the rushed but extremely well-received Talon of the Hawk.

July 2017: We Tried introduces four new members.

October 2017: Release of Needy When I’m Needy.

March 2018: Release of the surprise album Back on Top.

January 2019: Release of the EP Ann, paired with the announcement production of the next album will begin soon.

March: Two songs - Peace Sign & You Used to Say (Holy Fuck) are released to tease Going Grey.

July 2018: Release of Going Grey. 

SO YOU CAN SORT OF TELL THE TIMELINE IS SPEEDY - because that’s a big part of how Luke sort of... overworks themselves and hyperfocuses on their music. Especially since ever since their first drummer left, they haven’t let go of the idea they can only rely on themselves. 

BUT MORE ABOUT THE BAND - We Tried’s aesthetic is sort of The Front Bottoms mixed with the Young Veins - Luke’s especially fond of showing up in suits, vests, etc. despite the normally blunt & uncouth content of the songs. 

There is literally always something being made. Luke can’t sleep without having something in the works. 

And... yeah that’s it honestly it’s rly just TFB but with a TWIST! 

ABOUT LUKE 

5′10, genderfluid bisexual bby who honestly just wants a nap

SOOOO yes, Luke’s a very chill individual but chill in the sense that... they just. Don’t care. Except when it comes to their work - then they work the hardest they can on that shit and have to pay attention to every little detail.

They’re still not actually sure if they have any talent - musical theater never seemed to work out, so why is a band doing that??

But they do have one thing down pat - directing. All of We Tried’s videos have so far been directed by Luke, save for a few. 

This comes from Luke’s longtime adoration of film and cinema, from the perspective of an observer and a director.

They DO have a tendency to be a little... clingy and aloof at the same time. They’re always worried about being in the position of trying to keep a band of only one person alive again but also they don’t really notice they can other people to do things for them now.

They’re independent to a fault, in that case.

And also now finally getting a hang of not falling into peer pressure since it’s just made them cynical and aloof from people now.

They’re v grateful for their bandmates tho!! Don’t get me wrong, they love them!

Luke’s more of someone who communicates their appreciation through gestures and actions than words - setting a blanket on you while you sleep, getting new drumsticks if you broke yours, making coffee in the morning when you’ve forgotten. That kind of stuff.

They don’t get a lot of sleep for the sole reason they sort of have tendencies to keep themselves awake just... thinking. Luke thinks a lot. Luke’s actually wack-levels of intelligent, and it does show in their music save for when they’re making odd comments and obscure references.

Luke talks about tattoos a lot, but they’re actually barren since they’re afraid of needles. 

They also don’t drink, but they do smoke marijuana. But they’ll never admit to it - ...like TFB even though they have a MILLION songs that mention recreational use of the drug.

They sort of don’t really know where their purpose is, still - and that does lead them into a depression of their own, much like their father. They don’t talk to him and their mother that much nowadays - considering, the dream was always that Luke be a lawyer or a doctor and not the crass musician that they are.

They’re lowkey a fucking comedian but in the dry, deadpan humor sense. Most of their interviews consist of them making some joke that either takes a little while for the interviewer to get or one that makes the room silent for a quick minute. Or, even worse, they’re taken seriously.

Despite this aloofness, though, they actually thrive on being around other people. They’re sort of relearning how to accept that, though, since again, they’ve been shelling themselves up in their own work for quite some time. 

Also lowkey a bit of a flirt bt u didn’t hear that from me

Rides a motorcycle partially to look cool and also... bc they have the song ‘Motorcycle’ which was about them. Trying to learn how to ride a motorcycle so it just kind of stuck.

They’ve got another talent in dancing, since they took ballet classes throughout middle school to high school - but had to quit after they got arrested. Shame.

Their one dream was to be Ariel in the Broadway production of The Little Mermaid when they were younger since... they also love the sea and Disney Princesses so much secretly, but they’ve sort of given up on that.

Their love for the sea’s also because of where they’re from - Delaware beaches are beautiful and were Luke’s happy place back then. 

Most of their loves and interests are sprinkled in their songs, in that case - Delaware scenery, references of Disney films, etc.

They’re a very... complex individual. But god I lOVE them.

WCs

THE DRUMMER. PLS GIVE ME THE DRUMMER. I HAV IT ON THE MAIN... PLS GIVE ME THE OG DRUMMER THAT LEFT AND NOW HAS A SOLO CAREER OR IS IN ANOTHER BAND ELSEWHERE. PLS.

also the current bandmates. that would b. cool.

if ppl from luke’s old squad can show up now w/ their own careers... that would b. cool.

kids who they went to high school with that r surprised where they are now.

enemies in the music scene who don’t like luke or we tried for a multitude of reasons

maybe they think luke’s secretly a conceited dick underneath the ‘distant mysterious songwriter’ schtick

mayBBEEEE they think the nature of we tried’s songs are some sort of keep gimmick to try and cash in on being ‘casual’ and ‘relatable’

maybe they just don’t like the damn band i mean. yeah.

any reason. pls.

hook-ups bc i’ll b honest they are... a bit of a flirt. let luke serenade u w/ shit like “historic cemetery” cowards,

a rebound sort of?? probably very short-lived, but i can see luke wanting to get their mind off from their ex/drummer leaving and falling fast into another relationship - and that wouldn’t work out bc of it.

i’d also lov a plot where maybe sb discovers luke’s talent for dancing bc they do it for recreational purposes semi-often now?? 

maybe they can attend a class together or smth

or they just do it for fun at luke’s place

idk this cld go anywhere n it’s honestly adorable

ppl that they befriend who they can just. take back to delaware one day.

or even ppl they just hang out with to relive the ‘good ol days’

trips to the beach

buying store bought fireworks n setting them off

going on camping trips n shit

i’d lov a plot where there’s one person who just thinks luke is like... a MYSTERY and they just get closer and closer in attempts to try and figure that mystery out

also 100% open to brainstorming! i’ll actually get 2 interacting tmr bc it’s 2:30 AM nearly here n i want to sleep so yeah! chances are tho if u like this i’ll message u for plotting!! again if u want my discord - hmu @ rocky lynch lovebot / hylia.#0329. :^)

i love the front bottoms so much

[ve1vetyoongi]

remember me | kth - 02

chapters: I, II, III, IV, V

pairing: taehyung x reader

rated: mature - contains smut.

genre: idol!au, baker!tae, french!reader, angst, romance, fluff, smut.

summary: Taehyung wants to be forgotten. Overwhelmed by his life as idol persona V, he longs to just be Kim Taehyung for once. Even if that means forgetting everything he ever knew.

word count: 6.1k

warnings: (fluffy) smut, oral (f receiving), penetrative sex, mentions of blood, strong language, memory loss.

a/n: here is the second chapter of Remember Me! A big thank you to everyone who said kind things about the last installment and for getting chapter 1 to nearly 100 notes! It means so much to me that anyone read my work let alone 100 people haha. I hope you enjoy this part just as much!

Getting a job at your father’s bakery was easier said than done. Workers had come and gone over the years, some citing conflicting schedules as their reason for resigning and others blatantly blaming your father’s strict approach to enforcement when it came to his employees. You couldn’t blame him for being that way, really. After all, the business had been in the family for years, the pastries a sweet testament to your grandparents and their grandparents before that. Belle Epoque had a reputation for being one of the best patisseries for miles - admittedly not hard in a small town like this, but an accomplishment none the less - so it was unsurprising that your father took great pride in ensuring everything was at it’s best, including the employees. Come to think of it, you were the only worker who wasn’t fired after a few months on the job, probably because the only thing above the bakery in importance to your father was his family.

“Papa!” You had announced upon entering Belle Époque’s swing doors, surprising a couple eating breakfast at one of the high seats overlooking the harbor through the tall glass windows. Your father was behind the counter, arranging the freshly baked breads of all shapes, sizes and varieties on a wire rack behind him. A line was already forming to buy the warm loaves, the smell comforting and delicious. Your sudden arrival drew your father away from his ministrations, wiping flour from his palms onto the sides of his black uniform as he spun in search of you. His eyes met yours immediately, worry filled as he looked you up and down once, then twice to check for any obvious bodily harm.

“What is wrong, mon amour?” He questioned, anxiety evident in his voice. An elderly man in line for your famous croissants tutted when your father pushed away the five euro bill he held out in payment in favor of slipping beneath the counter to pull your chin into his hands. He smelled like gooey danishes and apple turnovers and you breathed in the scent gladly, a feeling of home washing over you.

“Nothing, I have good news!” You pulled on his wrists, loosening his grip on your face. He cocked his head to the side, wrinkling his nose in relief when he realized you were not in any immediate danger. “I found you a new worker!”

A large poster was taped to the glass doors, labelled HELP WANTED, advertising the shortness of staff at the bakery. You had put it up yourself weeks ago and still nobody had come in to query about the position, probably put off by the stories of your fathers harshness when it came to cleaning the kitchens or baking the perfect pastries. It was becoming urgent - you were overworked, trying to balance your kitchen duties with stock responsibilities and working the counter so you were pretty sure your father would accept anybody who was brave enough to apply.

“Eh? I thought nobody around here wanted the job?”

“They don’t.” You say with a roll of the eyes, referencing the many conversations you had had regarding his unforgiving attitude. “He isn’t from here.”

His eyebrow cocked uncertainly. “You trust someone you don’t know to work here?”

“Papa, I do know him.” Although you had only met a few days ago your time with Taehyung felt like a lifetime. “I promise you can trust him.”

“I don’t know about this.”

“Please, Papa! He is hard working, I wouldn’t come to you if I didn’t believe it myself.” Your father’s face was still stony and unimpressed, quizzically considering your proposition. “S'il vous plaît?”

Your pleading cracked his resolve. You could tell by the way he softened, palms squeezing your shoulders gently as he clicked his tongue in disappointment at his own inability to say no. “Fine. But he’s on stock duty for now - keep him away from my kitchen, you hear me? - Leon will be here with this weeks stock in twenty minutes.”

Practically jumping with glee, you rip the poster from the window and triumphantly toss it into the trash. “I won’t disappoint you, Papa! He won’t disappoint you.”

“Just bring him in.” He tuts, waving you away as he moved his attention to the grumpy queue of impatient customers. “Twenty minutes!”

His reminder sent you into action, grabbing two aprons from the hook and rushing out into the street, scanning side to side until you finally laid eyes on Taehyung. He stood with his back pressed to the brick wall of the bakery, toe of his boot kicking stones into the middle of the cobbled road. He seemed nervous, eyes trained to the ground as he mumbled various greetings under his breath, apparently preparing for an introduction to your father. He snapped out of it quickly once the slam of the door gave away your presence, granting you a smile as you approached.

“How did it go?” His cane clicked as he closed the distance between you.

“You start work in twenty minutes,” You throw one of the white aprons you clutched in your hands, smirking as he fumbled to catch the flimsy fabric. “Get to work, kid.”

“You’re kidding?” He exclaimed, eyes as wide as his open mouth as he watched you fasten your own apron around your waist. A small nod was all it took for him to explode, discarding his cane all together as he scooped you up at the waist, bouncing up and down excitedly. The loss of gravity was unexpected, causing a squeal to escape your lips against his neck as he whispered a repetitive mantra of thank you’s into your hair.

The moment was cut short by a searing pain in Taehyung’s thigh, causing him to stagger backwards under your weight and reminding him of his still weakened state of health. Your feet touched the ground again as he grasped the cane, attempting to cover the heave of his chest with a smile.

“No need for thank you’s, just don’t make me regret this.” You mumbled in response.

Taehyung’s grin widened as he fumbled to tie his own apron around his waist. Noticing his struggle you slipped behind him to tie the strings into a knot yourself.

Once his apron was secure, he turned to face you again, pulling your face into his palms. “I promise, you won’t!”

As it turned out, it was Taehyung who regretted accepting the job.

August’s peak had arrived, bringing with it the hottest summer the town had experienced in years. Your father had meant it when he said Taehyung was to stay far away from the kitchen - and the air conditioning as a result - instead ordering him to do all the literal heavy lifting he was apparently too old (or self righteous, Taehyung considered) to do himself. Leon, the bakeries supplier, came twice a week, bringing with him crates of flour and obscene amounts of chocolate chips and apple slices for Taehyung to unload and keep track of in a leather bound note book. He had voiced the idea of perhaps getting a laptop or tablet to make the job more efficient, only to be shut down with a harsh no from your father. He preferred to do things traditionally, he said.

Leon arrived late, setting Taehyung behind on his schedule by fifteen minutes he could not afford to waste; after all, he was already slower on his feet due to his wounded thigh. Taehyung watched with a sigh as Leon disappeared into the distance on his bicycle, pulling an empty cart back to the market. The stock seemed to be larger in quantity that day and sweat laced Taehyung’s furrowed brow before he had even attempted to begin shifting it bit by bit into the stock room.

Though, the hot stare of your father watching as he scratched his head in thought did not help his predicament. Taehyung’s back was to the door of the kitchen but he knew he was there, keeping a careful eye over him as he worked. He was still an outsider in this town, his employment at the bakery quickly becoming a topic of gossip among the people and apparently fueling your fathers inherent distrust of him. So far, Taehyung had proved himself as a good worker albeit a slow one, so your fathers reasons for continuing to stand with his arms crossed across his chest like a lion protecting its cubs was beyond him.

“You just gonna stand there, kid?” His sharp voice rang out, drawing Taehyung from his inner debate with a jolt. As if reading his mind, he added: “Start with the flour, y/n’s running short.”

Taehyung swallowed loudly, nervous under the scrutinizing presence. He had discarded his cane a week or two ago, able to limp where he desired now. It was progress, he figured. The black boots he had borrowed dragged across the cobbles as he approached the stack of flour sacks that almost towered over him in height.

They were heavy, he knew that from experience and he was practically winded just by lifting the sack at the top of the pile. The veins in Taehyung’s neck bulged as he struggled to keep his balance under the hefty weight. He felt his biceps begin to ache, opting to press a knee to the underside of the flour in an attempt to distribute the mass only to find himself balancing on his weakened leg, a sharp pain shooting through his thigh. The pain was sudden, eliciting an agonizing gasp and causing his grip on the sack to loosen substantially. Before he knew it he was stumbling forward, letting go of the flour all together in favor of breaking his fall with his hands. There was nothing he could do at that point, watching with wide eyes as the sack hit the ground, splitting and spilling onto the concrete beneath before he landed a top of it himself in a cloud of white.

The powder stung his eyes and tickled his throat, coughs wracking his frame as the flour irritated his lungs. Taehyung staggered to his knees, ignoring the way his thigh still protested, attempting to scoop the flour back into the sack to no avail. He sank back against his heels, finally accepting there was nothing he could do to salvage the ingredients, dragging his palms down his face in defeat.

A click of the tongue sounded behind him and Taehyung’s neck snapped towards the source, eyes immediately meeting your fathers own disappointed irises. His head shook side to side as he took in the sight before him. Taehyung noticed the way his jaw tightened in dismay, probably calculating the exact amount of money he would be removing from his paycheck before he simply disappeared back into the kitchen without a word.

His silence was enough.

“Fuck!” Taehyung exclaimed, slamming his closed fist into the belly of the now half empty sack of flour repeatedly. He had really done it this time. If he was on thin ice before he was in cold water now, pretty confident that his time working at Belle Epoque was over. He had tried so desperately to prove himself to the big man himself, your father, only to fuck everything up over a sack of flour. Why didn’t he take the candied fruit first? Why did his leg have to take so long to heal?

“Why did I take this job in the first place?” He muttered under his breath to nobody but himself. “I should have been a fucking fisherman.”

Deep down, he knew the answer to the question. The reason he didn’t want to become a fisherman or a sailor or even a bar tender was all down to one thing, one person.

You.

The entire reason he was here was because of the little glimpses he caught of you when he passed the kitchen window. Or when you rushed into the stock room in search of chopped almonds, hair tied back messily but still sparing him a smile and a few words through the stock room shelves before your father returned and caught you slacking. The only reason he was afraid of your father and his ability to fire him was because he couldn’t stand to sit at home, surrounded by you in your own apartment without you in it.

His heart ached at the thought and he realized that seeing you right now was exactly what he needed to calm the anger at his own weakness. Stock still surrounded him, ready to be accounted for and time still ticked away but he figured since his time here was limited he might as well break a couple of rules, right?

His hands left white prints on the back pockets of his slightly over sized jeans as he got to his feet, brushing powder from his shirt as he crept past the window before sidling up to the back door. It was propped open by a metal bucket, allowing him to slip inside relatively quietly if you overlooked the way his boot dragged a little with every step.

Taehyung’s eyes fell on you straight away. He felt himself relax somewhat instantly, just your presence unknowingly putting him at ease. You had that effect on him.

You stood with your back to him, ceramic mixing bowl balanced on your forearm as you folded a creamy mixture with a wooden spoon. He had tried some of your confectioneries, anticipating the times you would slip them to him during his breaks while your father was out front. Taehyung could confidently say you made the best croissants he had ever tasted, understanding immediately why customers returned day after day to experience the buttery goodness melting on their tongues time again.

Even while working, he thought you were beautiful. The effortless waves that usually cascaded across your shoulders had been tied back with an elastic, exposing the perfect curve of your jaw. He noted the way you hummed gently under your breath in time with the soft accordion crackling over the radio. Taehyung pressed his back to the far wall, watching your delicate ministrations with an air of amusement at your blissful obliviousness. Before long he cleared his throat, snorting when you almost dropped the bowl in surprise. You spun on your heels, another bout of shock taking over as you discarded the tools in favor of rushing across the kitchen to where he smiled at you lazily.

“Tae!” You hissed, grabbing his shoulders to drag him out of the direct line of view from the front of the bakery. Glancing side to side to check the coast was clear, you kept your voice to a whisper as you scolded him. “You know you aren’t meant to be in here!”

“I know, I know, I’m sorry,” Taehyung said a little too loudly for your liking, resulting in a stern look. “I needed to see you.” He lowered the volume a little, unintentionally though as embarrassment began to rise in his cheeks at his admission.

“You wanted to see me?” You blurted. He gripped your elbows firmly, thumbs rubbing gentle circles into the flesh there as he scanned your face for any indication that you were uncomfortable. “You are lucky you didn’t see my father on the way in here!”

“I always want to see you.” He confessed. “Just this time I actually had the courage to do it.”

“You don’t usually?”

“I’m pretty sure your father would fire me if he caught me in here,” Taehyung span you around so the small of your back pressed against the counter, settling himself between your legs. “But I’m pretty sure I just gave him a reason to do that already, so I’ve got nothing to loose.”

“What?” You exclaimed, hand covering your mouth when the words came out a little to loudly than was appropriate for the current situation.

“I messed up. Dropped a sack of flour while he was watching me.” You couldn’t help but giggle against the palm of your hand as he explained, the image of your unforgiving father’s face enough to weaken your knees.

“So that is why you are covered in white stuff?” You manage to let out, thumb coming to swipe at the layer of flower that obscured his nose. Your hand paused against his cheek, feeling the way his face stretched into a smile.

“Yeah,” His breath was warm against your forehead. Taehyung’s eyes drew a line down your face until they reached your lips, his own slightly parted with want. “I’d kiss you but I don’t want to get flour on your face.”

Your breath caught in your throat at his words. “I don’t mind.”

Taehyung’s heart somersaulted in his chest as he gently cupped your chin in his large hands, fixated on you. The rest of the world faded to a buzz, your vanilla scent consuming his senses deliciously and his heart a thumping reminder of how long he had been waiting for this moment.

Deciding he was taking too long, you encourage him a little by tugging on the collar of his shirt, the small push enough for him to finally connect his lips to your own. Warmth spread through Taehyung’s entire body, the feeling of your plump lips moving against his own enough to make him dizzy. Your fingers tugged at his hair - it was a little longer now, enough to wrap the blonde strands around your fingers as if to ground yourself - or perhaps to keep him from disappearing, convinced the way your body melted against his was a figment of your dreams. His tongue snaked out to run along the stretch of your bottom lip, educing a soft sigh to leave your chest.

As soon as the moment began it was over, Taehyung pulling away almost too soon, lips tingling where they had touched yours. He panted heavily, finally taking a breath after what felt like hours. High on the kiss you had just shared, you fell against Taehyung, burying your nose in the crook of his neck while his arms simply tugged your body as close to him as he could manage.

“Holy shit.” He whispered against your cheek. “That was-”

“Amazing.” You breathe before he could finish.

“Am I interrupting something?” A thick accent permeated the atmosphere, bringing you both back to reality before you were ready. Taehyung’s jaw snapped shut, forehead crinkling in a mixture of humiliation at being caught in the kitchen but mostly panic when he realized he had been caught kissing his boss’s daughter.

You swore you had never seen him move so fast, the warmth of his body gone in an instant as he leaped as far from you as possible, avoiding the gaze of your father who had entered the kitchen who knows how long ago. Maybe he didn’t see.

“Taehyung, I need to speak to you.”

Oh god. He saw.

Red hot heat rose in your cheeks, embarrassment washing over you before the implications of his words hit you fully. “Papa! Please don’t do this, it was my fault not his-”

“No, sir, this was all me.” Taehyung interrupted, raising his hands in surrender. “Please don’t blame y/n for what I initiated.”

You must have looked a picture, both pleading wide eyed and embarrassed and you were sure you saw the hint of a smile creep into the corners of your fathers mouth.

“If you would let me finish,” your father tried again, “I was going to tell Taehyung that he will be working out front from tomorrow morning.”

You both stared at him open mouthed, astounded that he did not seem angry or at all intent on firing Taehyung.

“O-oh, I - thank you! I uh, won’t let you down.” Taehyung coughed after a few moments of silence, bowing his head in a sign of appreciation.

“You are a hard working kid. Consider it a promotion.” Your father tugged at his apron as he made his way back into the bakery. Just as you thought you were in the clear, his voice sounded again from the distance. “But no funny business in my kitchen!”

Taehyung wasted no time resuming his earlier position, wiping a spot of flour at the corner of your mouth that had transferred from his face. “No funny business? I can’t make any promises.”

Taehyung fell into routine quickly, so quickly that he almost stopped longing to remember what came before he met you as he was sure it could not have been as perfect as this.

Your apartment was small but it felt bigger since Taehyung started living with you. It was like your beings fit together like a perfect jigsaw, never once falling over one another and always somehow in sync. Everything felt fresh and new and enhanced somehow, the town a little more vibrant, the warmth of the bakery a little more inviting and your bed a little more comfortable while sharing it with someone else.

Life was simple and that was the beauty of it. Weekdays were mostly spent at the bakery, you in the kitchen and Taehyung serving customers out front, occasionally sharing looks in the form of a smile or the simple cock of an eyebrow in between hushed rendezvous carefully calculated to begin and end before your father came back from his break. Weekends were for laundry dates and reading books with your head in his lap, him pretending to read over your shoulder but losing his place half way through in favor of watching your face instead.

Evenings were for drinking chamomile tea in your bed, legs tangled in one another as you told stories of life before him - what you remembered of your mother, your childhood cat, the time you slipped at the harbor and broke your collar bone. Taehyung always felt a little guilty that he could only listen, unable to tell stories of his own because as hard as he tried he just could not remember. You had tried to reassure him, reminding him that you knew this Taehyung so it didn’t really matter who he used to be.

That night was like any other; your head on his chest as you recounted a childhood story in between giggles. His hand stroked your silky hair gently and he enjoyed the way your eyes fluttered shut when his fingers massaged your scalp. The sight of your cheek pressed to his bare chest was enough to send his heart into overdrive, three words lingering at the tip of his tongue but never quite confident to leave it. I love you. He was sure of it.

“Tae?” You mumbled, raising your head to look at him bemusedly. “Are you listening to me?”

“Mmmf - what?” He replied, scratching the nape of his neck as he sent you an apologetic look. “I was listening!”

“What was the last thing I said?” You kicked the covers away from your body, throwing a leg over his lap to hover over him playfully. “Prove it.”

“You were saying…” He paused for a moment, staring into the distance as he tried to recall something to no avail. “Fine, I was distracted. Now just shut up and c'mere.”

Before you could protest, his lips were on yours. He tasted like Jasmine and herbal tea and you just about melted into his touch, moaning slightly when his hands pressed you to him roughly at the back of your neck. Kissing you had become all too easy for Taehyung, never satisfied until his lips were moving against yours and immediately starved once they parted.

You were the one to pull away first, tugging his bottom lip between your teeth and watching the way his eyes glazed over at the sensation. “Distracted by what?”

“By you.” Taehyung practically growled as he gripped your wrists, managing to flip you onto your back so he was above you, his knee pushing between your legs. “You make me forget everything.”

“How so?” You nibble on your bottom lip as his hands push you firmly into the mattress. His eyes were boring into yours but his dark stare only excited you.

“You’re doing it again!” He groaned, swallowing thickly as he relished the way you felt so soft, so needy beneath him. “I can hardly control myself when you look at me like that.”

Placing your palms carefully against his cheeks, you pull him in for a kiss, a warm tingle spreading through your chest when his nose brushes yours. His finger tips traced your jaw, dragging down the expanse of your neck and arms before rubbing feather light circles into the flesh of your waist that peeked out from the top of your pajama shorts. Taehyung’s actions were soft and so sweet you were sure you would melt under his touch.

You barely left his lips for long enough to take a breath before your tongue was tracing his bottom lip, begging for entrance which he granted with a sigh. Your arms looped around the back of his neck, your wrists grazing his bare back and sending shivers through his entire body.

Taehyung wasn’t sure how much longer he could last before he caved. So far, sweet kisses and lazy make-outs were the furthest you had taken things and honestly, he was happy for things to stay that way. As long as you were comfortable, he didn’t care - Taehyung was determined that if things were going to go any further it had to be under your circumstances - so, until you initiated anything he was content to just be as close to you as possible.

Unfortunately, that didn’t stop nature from taking its course - Taehyung’s problem was more than obvious, his hard on grazing your inner thigh as you desperately clawed at him, ever deepening the kiss. He could not help the small groan that left him at the contact, a hot blush sweeping your cheeks when you realized his predicament.

Leaving your swollen lips with a pop, Taehyung rolled to your side and scooted towards the edge of the bed. “Fuck,” He said through broken breaths, heels grazing the carpet as he avoided your gaze, unsure why he was embarrassed. He was always comfortable around you. Taehyung knew you could never judge him. “I had better go to the bathroom - ”

“Wait!” The cold raised the hairs on your arms almost as soon as his warmth was gone, an unbearable emptiness. You appreciated that Taehyung was respectful of your wishes - it made you feel safe in his company, wanted for more than what your body had to offer. More than anything, though, it told you that he was the right person to do this with and his sudden withdrawal confirmed just how much you wanted it, needed it. “Taehyung, I want this.”

You scrambled to your knees, wrapping your fingers around his wrist before he could escape and forcing him to face you once again. His eyes softened as he scanned your face, searching for any indication that you were unsure. “Really?”

A gentle tug encouraged him to return to his earlier position above you, though on his knees this time. Your hands shakily closed around the hem of your shirt, pulling the loose garment over your head. Taehyung’s eyes raked down across your bra before raising to meet yours again, his mouth agape a little. “Really.” You insisted.

At your confirmation, Taehyung was on you again almost immediately, hands finding any expanse of skin they could, enjoying the way they glided across the smooth surface of your stomach and the dips of your collar bones. His lips followed soon after, leaving open mouthed kisses to your forehead and then your nose and then a series down the valley of your breasts. His ministrations caused your core to throb, a bout of heat hitting your lower regions deliciously.

Arching your back under his touch, you reach behind to unclasp your bra, enjoying the way Taehyung’s eyes widen as the fabric falls away to reveal your hardened nipples. He wastes no time taking one between his lips, evoking a whimper from you as his teeth graze the nub. Your fingers weave into his hair, a series of moans leaving your lips as he begins to work their way down your stomach to the waistband of your shorts.

His thumbs slip beneath the hem, teasing gently as he asks for permission. “Can I?” His voice is husky, laced with desire as his finger tips dance across your thighs.

“Please.” You manage to gasp out, taking it upon yourself to start removing the barrier between him and your heat, the place you wanted him more than anywhere else. Taehyung’s breath hitched in his throat when he took in the sight of your panties, already sticking obscenely to your heat as you squirmed beneath his gaze. “I need you, Tae.”

“Fuck me,” Taehyung mumbled under his breath, mouth dry as he settled between your legs. His hair tickled your inner thigh and you writhed with anticipation. “I want to taste you.”

He lowered his head again, returning to his previous ministrations as he placed wet kisses to both of your thighs, teasing you by ignoring your sweet spot. Your heart was racing, practically beating out of your chest. “Taehyung?”

He stopped instantly, neck snapping up to scan your face. “Do you not want me to?”

“What? No! Trust me, that’s not it,” You jump to reassure him, dragging your thumb against his cheek to validate your statement and appease the worry evident in his irises. “It’s just…I’ve never done this before.”

“No one has ever eaten you out?” He blinks at you through his lashes, surprised at your confession, mainly because he couldn’t understand how anyone could manage to keep their hands off you.

“Opportunity never presented itself?”

“Don’t worry,” His head dipped back down again. “Just relax.” Taehyung carefully placed a final kiss directly to your heat, breath hot against your wetness through the fabric of your panties. Finally at the height of your impatience, you slide the garment down your hips, Taehyung unhooking them from your ankles before throwing them somewhere behind him, eager to finish what he started.

“Fuck, y/n.“His hands felt like fire against your thighs and you were sure the imprint of his palms would remain as he pushed your legs open a little further, tongue slipping out to wet his lips as he finally laid eyes on your heat. "You are beautiful.”

Before you could respond, his tongue was dragging a long stripe up the length of your slit, sending pleasure through you as he swirled around your sensitive clit. You gasped at the sudden contact, hands threading through his hair which only served to encourage him further, pulling your clit between his lips and sucking obscenely.

“Oh my god Tae,” You groaned, back arching as he dragged his tongue all the way to your entrance. “Fuck, don’t stop.”

Taehyung began thrusting his tongue in and out of you, enjoying the way you instinctively clench around him. A string of pleading whispers began to fall from your lips as he slowed his ministrations.

“What do you want?” He questioned, breathing labored as he ran his fingers up and down your sides comfortingly.

You twisted under his burning hot touch. “Fingers. Please.” You were barely able to mutter the words in between your own short inhales.

Taehyung simply smirked, gently easing a single finger into your entrance, moving slowly to begin with as you adjusted to the feeling before his tongue was back, teasing your clit once again. Before long, he sensed you were still a little empty, adding another finger, increasing the pace of his thrusts and focusing his mouth on your folds.

His tongue felt like heaven and you could feel your orgasm building steadily. Taehyung grazed your swollen clit with his teeth and before you could fathom it, you were coming hard with a sharp cry, entire body shaking as you came down from your blissful high.

Taehyung gave a few final kitten licks to your oversensitive folds before pulling away when you began to shudder and writhe due to overstimulation, sitting up and allowing you to pull him into a deep kiss. It felt different somehow - if that was even possible at this point - as though you were more connected than before.

“You are fucking incredible.” He mumbled against your cheek when you broke the kiss, placing his hands over yours as you fumbled with the button of his pants. Before long he was shimmying them down his thighs, discarding them at the foot of the bed in favor of enjoying the way you cupped his erection through his boxers, a low groan leaving his throat at the much needed contact.

“Take these off,” You practically pleaded, wrestling with the fabric of his boxers. “And fuck me already.”

“I’m getting there.” Taehyung chastised, still fulfilling your request by pulling the shorts down his thighs. His dick was finally freed, slick with precum as he hissed at the sudden cold air against his length.

“Don’t act like you aren’t eager.” You whispered against his ear, the hint of a smirk evident in your voice as you nibbled at the base of his neck, making him shiver.

Suddenly, Taehyung wrestled you down onto the mattress, causing a few giggles to flutter from your lips at the unexpected dominance. A smile threatened the corners of his own lips, despite his desperate need to take you then and there. “You know I’m eager, baby.”

Taehyung leaned over your body to reach the nightstand, his instincts correct as he successfully located a condom before sliding it over his length. The contact caused a sharp hiss to leave his throat and he felt dizzy imagining what was about to come.

“Let me know if you feel uncomfortable, okay?” Taehyung hovered over you, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear sweetly. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

You nod in return, biting your lip to hold back an anticipating moan. He ran the head of his dick up and down your folds, coating himself in your slick before finally pushing  into your heat. His hands gripped your hips, holding you in place and allowing him to keep himself grounded.

“Oh fuck,” He drawled when he finally bottomed out, your velvety walls almost too much around his sensitive dick. His voice was strained, cracking a little as he desperately tried to fight the haze of pleasure and keep a grip on himself. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

He waited for you to adjust, lidded eyes watching as yours fluttered closed once he finally entered you.

“Move, please.” You gasped.

He didn’t need to be told twice, drawing his length out almost all the way before slowly thrusting back to the hilt. The pace was almost agonizingly slow, long whines slipping past your lips as Taehyung buried his face in the crook of your neck, hot breath fanning your shoulders.

“Just fuck me, already.” You whimper. You bucked your hips impatiently, squirming as you felt his dick enter inch by inch, getting used to the way he filled you deliciously.

“God, you are going to kill me.” Your words seemed to be all he needed to finally start moving properly, increasing his pace as he finally lost himself above you. His low groans filled the room and before long you found yourself meeting his thrusts.

Taehyung pressed his thumb to your clit, circling it in time with his thrusts and before long you felt another high begin to take you, another orgasm causing you to shudder beneath him. Feeling your walls clench tightly around his dick was all it took for him to come undone, fingernails pressing into your flesh as he came with a dark moan.

Taehyung stayed like that for a couple of minutes, his face pressed into the crook of your shoulder as you both tried to catch your breath. You stroked a hand across the top of his head, pulling his face to yours to connect your lips in a kiss. It was slow and long and filled with words Taehyung wanted to say but hoped you could feel just through the way his lips moved against yours.

His bangs stuck to the beads of sweat that laced his forehead as he rolled onto his back, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and pulling you close to him. You pressed your cheek to his chest, eyes closed as you simply listened to the way his heart beat began to return to normal.

“I told you so.” He mumbled, slumber already lacing his tone and threatening to sweep him up in its embrace before he was ready to leave this moment behind.

“Hmmf?” You question, confused.

“I forget about everything when I’m with you.”

And in that moment, Taehyung knew he was irrevocably, undeniably yours.

[shans-fic-recs]

Sterek Fic Recs

Hey lovelies!

So all my godforsaken uni exams are over and most of them were shitty but I'm hoping I will pass and graduate this August. Hopefully. In the meantime I thought I should compile that giant rec list for one of my all time fave ships, because I have a tonne of read fics that are occupying space in the phone. So here, have it!

⭐ Favourites are marked with stars ⭐

***

Ship : Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski

Fandom : Teen Wolf

▶️Fics

• There is a Brotherhood ⭐⭐: College AU where pledge brothers Stiles and Scott start a prank war with Derek's fraternity. Super funny and cute!

➡️sequel : Derek's POV of the above fic, better seen as a prequel I'd say though.

• Losers : Derek and jock!Stiles are roomies and Derek inevitably falls for him.

• just pretending that we're cool : (from the author) In retrospect, using sex to trick Derek out of stalking Scott had maybe not been the greatest idea ever? Whatever, Stiles’ plans always manage to work themselves out.

• Hail to Whatever You Found in the Sunlight ⭐: (from the author) Stiles hates Scott so much. This is all Scott’s fault, Scott is the only reason that Stiles is going to get eaten by a bear.

➡️ sequel : “They’ll grow up and eat you.”

• Cherrybomb : A teenage angst ridden prankster Stiles gets back on his feet with police officer!Derek.

➡️ sequel : No story about Derek is ever really complete without Kate Argent. So here she is.

• Friends of Early Theory ⭐⭐: Sterek short slowburn office AU packed with hurt and angst and smut and all the feels. An all time favourite!

• I Died So I Could Haunt You ⭐⭐: (from the author) Haunting requires skill and showmanship. Something werewolves will never understand.

➡️ sequel : (from the author) It's a grave affair, what with all the haunting and lack of pottery.

• this boy, half-destroyed ⭐⭐⭐: I LITERALLY HAVE NO WORDS TO DESCRIBE HOW BEAUTIFUL THIS IS. PLEASE READ!

➡️ companion fic 1 ⭐⭐⭐: I HAVE HONESTLY NEVER LOVED A SIDE CHARACTER THIS MUCH!

➡️companion fic to this boy, half-destroyed ⭐⭐: (from the author) "You don’t remember, anymore, whereexactly you were when you found outthat she was dead. You remember almost everything else about her dying, though." Stiles-centric.

• Needs More Sparkly Pens ⭐⭐⭐: Stiles has a notebook.

OMG THIS IS THE ULTIMATE FUNNIEST SUPER ADORBS PIC-FIC! NOTHING GETS BETTER THAN THIS. I REPEAT! NOTHING!

➡️sequel : More doodly madness!

➡️triquel : The much awaited happy ending!♥️

• Spook ⭐⭐⭐: Angst ridden ghost!Derek meets new neighbour Stiles and kinda just, falls in love with him.

➡️ sequel : A smutty sequel to the above fic.

• 'Linski's Late Night Antidote To Lame : Where Stiles has his own college radio show, and the mysterious, faceless Derek is his number one fan.

• (they say) this should feel something like fire ⭐⭐ : Alright. I'm not even totally sure how to describe this cuz I read this around 3 years back, but it's got post-kidnapping PTSD!Stiles who copes with his demons while they rebuild the pack together. Very angsty, some trigger warnings - torture, beating, etc., but a personal favourite.

• (Won't) Let Me Hold You Down : This thing with Derek, Stiles knows, is all about trust.

• a drunk mind is a sober heart and my drunk mind wants to climb you : In which Stiles runs into a brick wall that is Derek, he's kissed somewhere in the struggle, and this ends with him questioning his sexuality. Jock!Stiles + nerd!Derek.

• A Fool for Fire : ( INCOMPLETE ) Stiles and Derek see their relationship in two very different ways.

• A Good Thing ⭐: That sweet fluffy lovely sex-pollen fic WITH KNOTTING!

• A Guide to Wooing Unsuspecting Jocks Accidentally : Nerd!Derek bakes sugary + spicy goodies to woo jock!Stiles.

• A Happy Ending [Costs Double] : Stiles gets stripper!Derek as his b'day gift.

• A Lost Family History of Cotton Candy and Carousels ⭐⭐⭐ : After the showdown with Gerard, Stiles has had enough of this supernatural bullshit. He is standing firm. He is Just Saying No. He is getting a normal job for the vacation. In his normal job he finds a normal film of a bright summer's day a lifetime ago. It's full of happiness and cotton candy and carousels and all the things they don't have any more.

• A Missed Opportunity Is Found : “You’re more than an hour late,” Derek stated, more of afact than an admonishment. Stiles was not only the boss’ kid, he was a snarky, arrogant teenage boy with anabundance of confidence, and Derek could rarely muster the nerve to stand upto him, regardless of his position as manager. Jock!Stiles + booknerd!Derek. Kinda.

More to come!! Stay tuned! ♥️

Do tell me if any of the links don't open or are faulty, etc.

Last Updated : 06/07/2018

Feel free to send me your own recs and I'll include them in the list! Loves!!♥️♥️

[attackofthezee]

WIP meme

Pretty sure I’ve done this before but I was tagged by @bangyababy (and one other person I think??? But it either got lost in my activity notifications or was a weird fever dream??) so I’m doing it again cause I wanna. Also wow I have too many wips so this is under a cut cause it got long as hell. 

The Rules: Post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous.

Grad School Bucky Cap Steve (There’s literally two lines in this document?? Idk what I’m doing with it and it might be shuffled into the fanfic mortuary file next time I sort through fics.) 

Barnes Home For Wayward Kids (Bucky keeps showing up at home with orphans and so he and Steve just end up with like a whole house of them. It’s also probably going into the fanfic mortuary cause it hasn’t been touched since uhhhh last year?) 

Werewolf Cap Merica F* Yeah (What it says on the tin! The serum is actually lycanthropy. Steve jumps out of things and gives Bucky heart attacks. It is exactly what people should expect from me tbh.) 

Found Baby AU (I WILL ONE DAY FINISH THIS ONE I SWEAR. It features Vet!Bucky who finds a baby in a dumpster and ends up in Pediatrician!Steve’s office at like 1 am and IT IS JUST A LOT OF SOFTNESS AND ONE DAY I WILL FINISH IT.) 

NEW DRAGON AU This Time Featuring More Fae (Steve is a dragon and Bucky is fae and they 110% use fae magic and accidentally blood bind themselves to each other at like 9 years old oops. Sarah and Winifred are NOT amused.) 

Party Goblin Sequel (One time, years ago, I wrote a fic called Adulthood Is Just A Myth -shameless plug!- and it didn’t do incredibly well despite my love for it at the time buuuut I’ve had a sequel planned for it since pretty much the moment I finished it. It involves Bucky losing his arm because I’m a terrible person, and like the exploration of disability and Steve being a disabled person dealing with the person he loves dealing with disability. It’s still funny, because I’m me, but it will also take forever and a day for me to ever finish it because I am Bad At writing things that are overly close to me.) 

Cap PSAs (Literally just a fic about Bucky getting a lot of joy at Steve’s expense from Steve’s really awful school PSAs) 

Practical Magic AU (Listen I have craved a Practical Magic AU for YEARS. So I started one a couple months back, but then wearing_tearing went and wrote one because they are a fic writing goddess so now I DON’T NEED TO. But it’s still sitting in my WIP folder so maybe one day I’ll actually finish it under the Two Cakes rule.) 

IW FIX IT (I had a lot of feelings after seeing Infinity War??? And I wanted to fix them??? But this is another one that’ll probably go into the fic mortuary because I have NO CLUE what I was planning to do with it.) 

MAJOR REWORK NEEDED great american roadtrip (Once upon a time, December 11th 2016 to be exact, at least according to the document details, I sat down to write an epic fanfic where two old assholes went on a road trip, saw the grand canyon, went camping, and also kept up with their therapy via phone appointments.) 

both fall of train au (you think both fall off the train aus mean they both get captured by HYDRA? THINK AGAIN. Because what is TRAGEDY? I CAN’T WRITE ANGST so this shit is just Steve and Bucky fall off the train together and both wake up in the 21st century and Have To Adjust. Idk where it’s going, idk anything beyond that basic premise but who knows, IT MIGHT BE GOOD ONE DAY?)

the sequel i'm not writing to where the heart is (the fact that I haven’t touched this since August means the title is technically correct. Basically it’s the story of how Where The Heart Is!Bucky and Steve go on vacation and end up taking down the leftover bits of HYDRA instead. Also Bucky’s instagram is featured a lot. This one actually has a lot written already so like, I wanna finish it eventually.) 

is it... a fake dating au???? (A one night stand turns into Steve fake dating Bucky for family events because I love tropes.) 

non recovery fic except it IS (Idk how to describe this one except that like it’s a recovery fic but it started based on the premise that not being okay is okay. It’s cute and sad and deals with recovery things.) 

Steve Rogers Meets His Irish History: c. 2016 (This one is literally just a document with a link to what inspired it and also will require a lot of research so who the hell knows what’ll happen with it.) 

A DIFFERENT FOUND BABY (THIS ONE GOT AWAY FROM ME GUYS. Like it started with Bucky Barnes coming home to Steve because he found A BABY AND I LOVE KIDFIC but then I veered into like How Steve Rogers Relates To Disability, His Body, His Gay Identity, And Gender All In Relation To His Past Disability so like, it’s a mess.) 

Angel Steve yo (This will one day be my magnum opus tbh. Steve’s an asshole angel who shows up to a Halloween party in booty shorts and devil horns. Bucky’s the confused millennial who wants to bone him. I don’t think I’ll ever love a premise more tbh.)  

ABO PREG STEVE WHAT (I am genuinely not shy about the fact that I like abo and mpreg and all that soft shit, so like, this is just the result of that enjoyment and features omega Steve going into the ice pregnant, waking up and having a baby because THAT PLOT HASN’T BEEN DONE A MILLION TIMES IN ABO FICS OR ANYTHING. whispering softly but with feeling: two cakes Elizabeth, TWO CAKES.) 

B99 Kinda (Steve Rogers is a cop in Brooklyn. Bucky Barnes is a firefighter who Steve’s kinda smitten with.) 

Jersey- Coda (Soft tummy edition) (someone commented on This Is Why People Don’t Go To Jersey saying they hope Steve’s tummy was soft after having a baby and my inner lizard brain went YES THIS IS GOOD, VERY GOOD. So it’s literally just a fic about Steve having a soft tummy and Bucky being very fond of it.) 

soulmate au f yeah (This is my CHILD and I will one day finish the motherfucker. It’s soulmate magical realism where soulmate’s hearts BEAT THE SAME and there is recovery and goodness and god I love the premise a lot, ngl.) 

FIRST LADY STEVE ROGERS (This is actually just the document that I have Making The Ride Count in, but it’s also got bits and pieces that will become other parts in the series.) 

Will an 80s winter soldier wear leg warmers? (Bucky breaks his programming in the 80s and he and Peggy pal around beating HYDRA and terrorizing people until Steve’s dug out of the ice again.) 

competitive assholes (the idea was given to me to have Steve and Bucky be neighbors competing over decorations and I NOW MUST WRITE IT.) 

Omega Rights Activist Steve (College abo with omega Steve and Alpha Bucky and like, lots of softness and Bucky just wanting to build Steve THE BEST NEST and Steve being like I AM A STRONG CAPABLE OMEGA but also ‘yes pls buy me seventeen pillows and twenty-five blankets and fluff them strategically for me.’) 

An Angel And A Demon Walk Into A Bar... (Angel Steve + Demon Bucky = BEST FRIENDS FOREVERRRRRR. Also lots of jokes about heaven having too much paperwork.)

holiday swap - finish by 12/21 (For the Marvel Holiday Swap. I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT I’M DOING WITH THIS ONE DEAR LORD HELP ME.) 

 It All Comes Back Around (Chapter three! It’s coming along slow as hell but it IS coming along.) 

FOR LATER (a fic in which Steve wakes up from the ice and starts making mental lists of ‘things Bucky would like’ because he’s a sad, sad human being.)

Loyalty Devotion (For Happy Steve Bingo. There’s selkies??? and Steve is some sort of unspecified magic??? and it’s a little different than my norm writing style wise?? Idk we’ll see how it turns out. I might edit the first bits copiously so that it’s more my style, or i might embrace the flow of this one WE SHALL SEE.)

Aaaand I can’t think of anyone to tag right this moment because my brain is word soup soooo if you want to do this then please go forth and do it! There are no rules here, this is the wild west of meme games, BE FREE WRITER FRIENDS BE FREE 

[fantroll-purgatory]

@nxbulaholic

This is certainly one of the more unique profiles we’ve ever gotten… I like the flower flourishes, haha. A few things here… I’m not sure who Darcan is? You didn’t really clarify. I googled the name and all I came up with was this Broken–Pieces rp group? Which uses the same flower quirk that you do, so I’m assuming you’re working on a character for that! In fact it seems like you might’ve already submitted her? But that’s fine, we’ll get working. 

So the basics of this character are that she’s someone with anger in her heart. She seems guided by intellect, but she’s actually guided by emotions. She’s a conspiracy theorist, dodgy, and involves herself in drama…. Alright, I think I can work with that. 

Xamona Orcigo 

I’m sure it’s uncomfortable to get a name change suggestion for an established character, but maybe… Ustakl Krygaf. 

Ustakl functions as a reference to the Üst akıl (mastermind) conspiracy theory in Turkey, which expresses the belief that some external actor is attempting to systematically weaken and dismantle Turkey, up to implying that ripped jeans were a form of “code talking” and even that the external actor is responsible for the 2017 Turkish earthquake. 

Krygaf is a reference to the etymological root of Crytology. It would basically mean Code Creator, which is in a way a reference both to her conspiracy theorist nature And the title I’m going to later recommend for her (because she doesn’t read as a breath player to me). 

 Age - 8 sweeps

 Pronouns - She/Her

 Nicknames / Other known Names - Mona

I think this can stay even if you change her name, because- get this- Mona Lisa conspiracy theories? Surprisingly common. And ambiguity is a common theme around the Mona Lisa anyways. Maybe there was a troll Monalisa in the ancient times that is a famous painting today and she’s nicknamed after it because of some of the uncertainty surrounding her and her smile.

 Wriggling day - August 13th 

 Title - Mage of Breath

I want to make the argument that she’s a Sylph of Mind. She passively creates ideas from whole cloth by interpreting information in unique ways. She might be able to inspire action in others through these ideas and threads of logic that she’s creating. The people around her might be pushed to move in certain ways depending on the information she gathers and asserts. 

Her inverse would be Prince of Heart, which is also fitting. This inverse implies that she would destroy Through heart as well as destroy heart. She would actively use her emotions as a tool to smash with and would hurt other’s feelings in the process. Destroying all these feelings in the way thus inspires people to act in certain ways or come to certain conclusions, wrapping back around to her passively creating thought. 

Discourse also has a bit reputation with Romance Drama so her calling out her exes would be another way of Passively Creating Thought by actively destroying hearts. 

 Dreamer Class - Prospit

Considering her tendency to close off from others/not let people know her true colors, her involvement in a rebellion, her anger towards purples that presumably stems from her past, and her interest in discourse, I’d say she’s probably actually a derse dreamer!

 Symbol - 

Libus

 ~ Sign of the Vibrant

Which means I’ll be changing her sign to Libza, the Acute. I think this is a fitting title for her, because it means shrewd, but also means present in a painful or overbearing amount.

 Blood color - Teal 

I think she makes a really good teal. I think you should emphasize her ethical center, though!. Does she fundamentally believe people can’t change? If someone was called out 10 years ago will she continue to hold them in exile? Does she value a sense of moral superiority over the basic tenants of kindness and mutual respect? Is she one of those bloggers who is like, a total dick to people for no reason but never gets called out because she’s like, technically got good politics, but GOD she’s a dick? 

 Alignment - Darcan’s Rebellion 

You should definitely elaborate how she found out about him and why she decided to join in your backstory.

 Typing Style - all in lowercase and always uses prefered and more obtuse vocabulary, TYPES IN ALL CPAS WHEN PISSED OFF AND MAKES A FUCKTION OF SPELLING MISTAKES 

I’m sorry to say that this is kind of an overused quirk by this point, especially for characters with explosive tempers. I think if you want to make a character who co-opts the social justice scene for her own social benefit and to manufacture a feeling of self-worth, you should look at the communities of people online who Really Do That, those people who take the sjw language for themselves and mutate other community’s language and smash both into a condescending bullshit pile. 

Example: if you think goldbloods are just purple shills you. are. valid. unu

uhm okay you stupid fuckboy. purplebloods are inherently violent but go off i guess???? unu

OKAY LISTEN UP YOU MOTHERFUCKERS. YOUR HEMOELDER IS GONNA LEARN YOU A THING unu.

Use the ‘unu’ emoji at the end of every sentence and distort actual sj conventional speech as much as you can, basically. 

 Strife Specibi - taserkind

Edit: I really can’t stop thinking about this so I have to suggest it. You could also possibly have her have teakind as a backup? Like a literal cup of tea. For an “And that’s the tea” joke, of course. 

 Lusus - Quetza the 31st (a three headed snake lusii) 

Honestly can I recommend a two-faced golbat-like lusus? 

One of the uhhh bigger names in nasty inconceivable discourse right now has a golbat-themed blog (no namedrops here)- and there’s also the Leelah Alcorn scandal, orchestrated by the now deactivated user, Zubat. Seems like the zubat line is a little cursed by discourse >_>. golbats look like they’re Yelling so it’s great for a character like her who has a tendency to Erupt, and the two-faced nature implies her tendency to not present her True Self immediately. 

 Ancestor - Contessa Blackfin 

I don’t know much about the narrative story you’re going for here, but maybe she could’ve been killed by a purple?

 Personality - Xamona could usually be described as the type of person who would try logic and reason instead of violence, it’s actually the other way around when you get to know her. She has a deathly fear of Purplebloods and is basically racist towards that specific caste, she’s quite willing to go to extreme lengths to prove her points and is rather manipulative towards trolls who don’t know her true colors. If anything she could be compared to that of a conspiracy theorist.. or a Tumblr user with an extreme amount of history relating to discourse. 

I’m guessing things are more egalitarian between the castes of landdwellers in this au in order for the prejudice narrative to make sense? Because otherwise being wary of a class of people who’ve historically exploited yours and who have powers Specifically meant to keep lowbloods down while inside a totalitarian highbloods nation is kind of good sense. Just a little. 

Still though she’s such a dick I love this bad personality. I think she should be the type to hold a grudge and the type who accuses everyone of being out to get her.

Relationships - [TBA]

<strike>Nikalo - Is EXTREMELY suspicious of.</strike> 

 Strengths - 

- Xamona is very agile and could dodge enemy attacks with ease

- Despite her seemingly fragile figure, she could put up quite a fight with those of higher blood than her

Keep in mind that her being a teal is starting to dip into the blueblood range, so she’ll be naturally stronger than Jades and below. 

Also, make her someone who’s really good at preparedness. If she’s paranoid, make her someone who’s already ready for an attack. Make her the kind of person that when she walks in a room, she’s already thinking, “Where are all the exits? What can I hide under? What could I use as a weapon?” This helps her avoid situations where she’s backed into a corner- and makes it all the scarier when she IS helpless.

 Weaknesses -

- If you get her to talk about her plans, she’ll keep talking and talking.. 

- If she’s cornered, Xamona will be at her weakest when it comes to fighting back

 Backstory - [TBA]

Hmmmmm, maybe you could make her have romance drama with a purple that ended in a little bit of turmoil? Some eye-scarring turmoil? 

 Quote - “CALL ME A HIPSERT ONE MORE FUCKING TIME.”

 Voice - 

Mahiru Koizumi

 Themesong - 

Into the Basement

Design: 

There really wasn’t a lot I felt the need to edit. I gave her horns that look more like her new symbol. I know this au isn’t especially concerned with canon compliance, but blind eyes are bright red from what we’ve seen! So I edited it to that. And I moved her symbol and changed it to the new one. We’ve seen that on Alternia, symbols always appear in blood color and never another color, even a neutral one. 

I also did a new ref sheet? 

Though not much changed there.

Thank you for sharing!

-CD