#i was initially just gonna reply with a quick au idea that this point made me think off but I was a few words short with ghe character limi

[recycledraccoon]

Ghost King/No Man Land-esc Au where after everyone got dragged into the Realms, everyone is pretty darn liminal, and now a year later the GIW has drastically escalated. Essentially trapping the entire town, and the GIW maintains a border with...lethal force.

Tucker/Technus and other Amity Hackers manage to get news of Gotham being legally declared not part of the US (they can get outside news via relay in ghost zone, but cant send anything out, and the GIW has Amity Information Locked Down Tight).

This results in a fairly insane plan to just...move. Pariah Dark managed to move Amity after all, and DANNY'S technically the new Ghost King soooooo-

Anyway, the whole of Amity Park is Danny's haunt, and now he's got a significant power boost, so through a combination of Ghost Powers and Fenton Brand Science, they manage to bring the whole town BACK into the ghost zone, where preparations are being made rapidly to the city for self-sufficiency while calculations for reentry are being done, both for placing the city itself along the coast, and to deal with the water displacement.

During this time, thanks to Clockworks manipulation for this timeline, Dan is freed and started his reformation journey (ala GiT), tho unfortunately for Dan, Danny, and Dani, the Fenton Parents and Vlad have had it out with each other and somehow ended up in a polycule?? So there's that. Dan becomes Jordan, Dani switches to Ellie, and are officially brought into the full family fold.

As soon as they finish targeting their reentry, the ENTIRETY OF AMITY reappears as an island off the coast of Gotham, but still within the legal borders to be considered as in No Mans Land.

So now the Fenton Parents are busy leading the charge, turning all their energy away from Ghost Research (it's still a passion, tho they understand where they were wrong prior) to finishing Amity Park's ocean&ecto power generators and water filtration & supply.

Vlad meanwhile, takes his immense wealth (which, of course he had navigated safely away as to not have it seized by the US & GIW) to start making outreaches into Gotham. Luther is already laying ground work, but if Gotham ever rejoins the US this will all have been pointless so Vlad has to do what he can to stop that from happening, and it starts with providing resources to the people.

So now, not only does the Batfam have to deal with trying to protect Gotham following, essentially, it's destruction, but also an ENTIRE NEW CITY along it's coast, and whatever they're going to be bringing into the city. Batfam are confused and Very Very Stressed.

Fenton Parents work on Amity's energy and water sources, with the end goal of self sufficiency with enough excess to extend to Gotham. Jazz helps her parents, since everyone knows how the Fenton couple can get and having a 'translator' around helps with the delegation of work.

Vlad works on using his wealth to get outside resources into the hands of Gotham citizens, and Ellie helps him with delivery aspects. Once the Fenton's are done he'll be able to use those utilities in his dealings. He's hoping to find political allies, and the remains of the Wayne company would be immense if he could get that company, that FAMILY, on his side.

Jordan (Dan) keeps anyone stupid enough to try to get into Amity unauthorized and with bad intentions out. He's essentially the City's guard dog. (He won't let his family die again. The twerp can take care of himself, but Jazz and the Fentons are within Amity and he's keeping them safe by keeping the city safe.)

Danny as Phantom meanwhile, does his best to make himself busy with cleanup and temporary rebuilding. Unmeltable ghost ice as it turns out, is a great temp solution for putting buildings back together like weird jigsaw puzzles. (A few rogues do try to bother him, whom he fights when he has to, and redirects when he can. Mr. Freeze for instance, can be pacified by basically throwing him and his frozen wife at Frostbite and his healers in The Far Frozen.)

Tucker meanwhile, is connecting with Gotham hackers and eventually finds Oracle, and the two start working together on the cities communications, with occasional help from Technus. (Now that the Fenton couple aren't trying to catch ghosts, Technus is very interested in what they're doing with tech over in Amity. After all as long as he's not causing trouble and helping, Danny won't toss him back in the Zone.)

Sam finds out about Poison Ivy and is on a war path to get her to come to Amity to help with the cities new Green initiatives. Turning the whole dang city into a food forest will be much easier with a plant-based meta helping.

By time Lex Luther is trying to finalize bringing Gotham back into the US, they say no. Gotham has universal free power and water, great strides are being made in cleaning the pollution and trash from the city and surrounding waters. The City is being slowly being rebuilt with materials bought and smuggled in by Vlad and Ellie, and Danny has stabilized what can't be rebuilt yet with his ice. Oracle and Tucker's cooperation is eventually what gets the Batfam into talks with the Amity Parkers beyond rooftop interrogation attempts, and then brings the Wayne company into help the political moves Vlad is making to get a power structure in Gotham who can actually make treaties with Amity Park. Even more critically, the combined efforts helped Gotham reach out to other countries for things like trade and alliances, and thus getting outside political support as they announce Gotham&Amity becoming they're own small country.

Gotham's still crime filled and bat shit crazy since the city itself is cursed as all hell, and ghosts still come through the Fenton Portal from time to time to cause trouble/enjoy a fight with one of the Phantoms, but overall life is better for everyone except perhaps, the US Government and the GIW.

Things to do with Jack and Maddie without them being abusive

As someone who actually likes Jack and Maddie as characters (I'm a fervent shipper of Maddie/Jack/Vlad), it's a real bummer to see so many people out there deciding that for their DPxDC AUs that Jack and Maddie are abusive, when that really doesn't represent how they are in canon. Now I fully acknowledge that doing this can be a very useful tool for telling certain types of stories, and if you want to make a story about recovering from abuse and finding a new found family, all the more power to you for that! But for any other type of story where them being abusive isn't necessary for the backstory of the story you want to tell... It's just a bummer to do that, y'know? If you don't want to tell a story with Jack and Maddie in it, that's entirely fine! I'm not asking you to. But there are ways to get rid of them without making them abusive or dying. Of the two, I personally would prefer them dying (I just like the story potential of that, especially as far as Vlad is concerned). But there are plenty of easy things to do with them to keep them out of the story that don't require them being abusive or dead! So I'm here to give a list of things that can happen to them (that have precedent within either Danny Phantom itself or the DC universe) that keep them out of the story that don't require much explanation as well as some other ideas for what you can do with them if you have no idea what to do with them otherwise.

Lots of ideas under the cut! (Feel free to take what you want. As always, credit is appreciated, but not necessary. But I would love to see what you do with it!)

If you need them permanently absent so that Danny can get adopted

Fell into the Ghost Zone and cannot be found.

They are gone for whatever reason and Jazz is currently Danny's legal guardian (she's 18 or older and is therefore a legal adult).

While in the Ghost Zone, they accidentally traveled through time/got transported somewhere where they can't get home easily.

They got severely Joker gassed and are in medical care. (This is actually what happened to Duke's parents!)

They got severely Scarecrow gassed and are in medical care.

Went insane for some supervillain-related reason and are now missing/in medical care.

They were kidnapped by a villain for some reason.

They were kidnapped by a villain and are currently in a lotus-eaters simulation and therefore don't even know that they've gone missing.

Abducted by aliens.

They got wrapped up in some supervillain bullshit and now have amnesia and are unable to recognize Danny and Jazz.

They got magicked into something that can't take care of Danny and Jazz.

They were experimented on and are now incapable of taking care of Danny and Jazz.

Some cosmic entity did a whoopsie that effected Jack and Maddie and now they're in a condition/situation where they cannot take care of Danny and Jazz.

Got arrested and are in jail for some reason.

Were arrested and sent to jail for a long time. Have since joined Task Force X/the Suicide Squad for lienency.

Got hit by a stray Zeta-Beam and are now on some alien planet.

They got teleported somehow. We aren't certain about the details.

They fell into a hole to another world.

They no-clipped out of their normal reality.

Stranded with no way home.

They somehow ended up on a different planet. They are just hanging out with Space Cabbie now, who is just having a ROUGH day and can't find Earth for whatever reason.

Inducted into a Lantern Corps and are VERY busy because of it!

Coma.

Effected by a debilitating illness/disease/condition that makes them incapable of taking care of others.

They were forced to go undercover for some reason and therefore vanished. (Letting their kids know is optional)

They were forced to go undercover for some reason and were forced to fake their deaths.

They died, but came back to life. Danny has not been informed of this.

They got possessed by a superhero or supervillain who just wandered off with their bodies.

They got separated following a disaster and haven't been able to find each other again.

They've been retconned to hell and back again to the point where no one is entirely certain where they are, what they're doing, or even if they're alive anymore. Don't worry about it! Only mention them when it's relevant and the rest of the time we aren't going to bother explaining what's going on with them. If they are mentioned, accounts of where they are and what's going on with them are contradictory.

They're around, but will go unseen throughout this story

Any of the situations in the previous section, but it only happened to one of the parents, and the other is just too busy working and taking care of the kids by themselves.

The same as previous, but they also moved to Gotham.

Retcon things so that the events of Danny Phantom actually happened in Gotham City all along. (Maybe Amity Park is like... A suburb in the greater Gotham area.)

They went on vacation/were hired for a job that would take them away from home. They left Danny and Jazz to be taken care of by Vlad. Vlad is an asshole, so they ran away from him.

They went on vacation/were hired for a job that would take them away from home, but now that Jazz is over 18, she's been left in charge.

Put into Witness Protection by the government/the Guys in White.

Danny and friends have graduated from high school and are now legal adults, perhaps in college.

Danny's whole family moved to Gotham City. They're just at home/working during the events of this story.

Jack and Maddie have been hired to do some work with the Justice League and need to be away from home for an extended period of time. They have left a member of the Justice League to take care of Danny and Jazz in the meantime.

Fieldtrip/school trip to Gotham City.

Danny is old and responsible enough that Jack and Maddie trust Danny (and/or Jazz) to travel on their own. His parents are just a call away if he needs help.

Jack and Maddie are separated for whatever reason (one went missing/one is working abroad/they are divorced/one died) and the other moved to Gotham and is taking care of the kids in the meantime, but is busy and so will not appear.

Something happened to Fenton Works and the family needs to temporarily stay somewhere else while the problem with Fenton Works is sorted.

The family was driven out of town and they ran off to Gotham to escape the angry mob. (Or at least to wait until things cool down again.)

Jack or Maddie are able to work remotely and so they've moved to Gotham to do so. The kids came along/are visiting.

Jack and/or Maddie were hired for temporary work in Gotham and decided to bring the kids along.

One family member was taken to Arkham Asylum. They moved to Gotham to be closer.

Jazz went to Gotham for college. Danny is visiting.

Danny is sent to Gotham/Arkham for specialized health reasons.

Jack and Maddie have gotten in contact with a specialist that lives in Gotham and are visiting for work-related reasons.

They are on vacation in Gotham and brought the kids along. Danny and Jazz have been let off the leash to go where they want while Jack and Maddie do touristy stuff.

Visiting family/family friends living in Gotham.

They were passing through but are now unable to leave. (Bonus points if it's a No Man's Land situation.)

They were passing through, but were robbed. Jack and Maddie are dealing with the robbery stuff where Danny is off somewhere else.

They were just passing through, but Maddie and Jack got SEVERELY distracted by something and have run off to who knows where!

They are traveling with Vlad and expected Vlad to take care of and watch the kids!

Danny was abducted to Gotham.

Danny accidently ended up in Gotham somehow.

Danny somehow got transported/teleported to Gotham.

Doing an educational trip/apprenticeship/internship over in Gotham.

Danny ran away impulsively.

Some villain threatened Danny's family and forced him to run away from home.

Danny has revealed his secret to his parents, and while they might worry about Danny being a vigilante, believe in and trust Danny to do the right thing and allow him to do what he feels that he must to protect people.

The same as above, but Vlad also came out and is supervising.

They died.

I cannot understate the sheer JUICY storytelling potential that you can have by killing Jack and Maddie off! We already know how it might effect people and events from what we see in The Ultimate Enemy, but there really is limitless potential in terms of ways to twist, turn, and play with things to have different outcomes! Additionally, Jack and Maddie being genuinely good parents that die protecting Danny and Jazz offers lots of ways for Bruce to relate to Danny and Jazz! (He decided to become Batman so that no one would have to face what he did ever again... And he failed...) And the way that they die can offer some lovely different flavors of angst, coping mechanisms, motovations, and learning to deal with their loss. So here are some ideas for how to kill them off!

The universe exploded again, and when it was put back together, Jack and Maddie ceased to exist in current canon continuity. (This happens more often than you'd think.)

Vlad Wins.

They were killed in an apocalypse-level event.

They were killed in the crossfire of some superhero/supervillain fight.

They were taken by some villain. They were killed before the heroes could arrive.

They were killed in a random act of violence/crime. (Much like Batman's backstory. Do this to gain extra points from Bruce.)

Died in prison/after joining the Suicide Squad.

Gang violence.

Any of the previous but Gotham is just THAT dangerous!

Same as any gassing or supervillain plan, but they died instead of being missing or in medical care.

Got transported to a place where they died very far away from home.

They just died suddenly or because of an accident. It happens sometimes.

Things to note

Believe it or not, but your parents can still be in your life AND you can join the Batfamily AT THE SAME TIME! :D

Examples:

Barbra Gordon is very much in the Batfamily and both of her parents are alive and well. She's a very important part of the family, and in the comics, it is not uncommon to see her calling up her dad and talking to him! They'll even call each other if they need help with something. This does not take away from the fatherly role Bruce often has in her life. (She can have 2 dads and good for her for that!)

When Tim initially became Robin, his parents were alive and well. They would later die because comic writers are just like that, but being an orphan without loving parents in your life is not a prerequisite to being Robin.

Duke's parents are also alive! They are under the effects of Joker toxin, but they are alive, and if they ever find a cure for it, I imagine that they would be more than happy to have Duke back in their lives!

Terry from Batman Beyond is not an orphan and was taken under Bruce's wing to be the next Batman! Terry is even going to inherit a fair amount of Bruce's wealth for deciding to take on the responsibility of being Batman. But while his dad did die, his mom is still alive and well over the course of the series! And he has a little brother too! Terry may still be a teenager, but he is a bit of a breadwinner for his household while also still being an important part of Bruce's family. (He is often someone who helps Bruce take care of himself.)

But if the story you truly want to explore requires being adopted specifically... Well... You don't have to be a kid to be adopted! Jack and Maddie can still raise Danny and Jazz into adults and Bruce is able to adopt them later if he wants, once they have been well and established in his family! Hell, you don't even have to wait! As long as Bruce asks permission from Jack and Maddie, they can be alive AND he can adopt Danny! There is more than one way to be in a family, you know! And sometimes it takes a village! And really, would Jack and Maddie really object to Danny being adopted by billionaire Bruce Wayne, especially if Danny really is enjoying his time being a part of his family and if Bruce has been an absolutely lovely person to them whenever he visits?

So I hope that you're able to take some inspiration from all of this for your own stories! If you need some elaboration on what I mean with some of these, or want to ask who could be responsible for some of these and how, feel free to drop on by and send me an ask! I would be more than happy to go into some more detail about these! Happy writing!

[shyanshippingsociety]

Shyan Shipping Society Fic Promo - November 2022 - January 2023

last post

holiday parties and the new year, the perfect excuse for some shyan fic! check out everything our members wrote from november 2022 to january 2023! and if you’re interested, check out our new years fic exchange masterpost!

november

Who You Gonna Call? by Golden4278 | G, 2K, on-going

Ghost Busters! AU

Simple Math by TheMouthKing & tripwirealarm | E, 118K, complete

While filming Ghost Files, a joke goes off the rails and lights a long-ignored fuse between its two co-hosts, but what’s initially just some fun fooling around under specific parameters leads to increasingly complicated feelings, and when a situation brings those feelings under a microscope, a choice has to be made.

Icarus Falling by teresa_agasgi | T, 1K, complete

When Shane flies too close to the sun he needs something to fall back to.

aka Ryan comforts Shane

Something Unholy by PlatinumPussycat208 | E, 2K, complete

“I’m glad you’re taking this investigation very seriously.” “I just want the ghosties to come and fuck around with me!” - Shane and Ryan encounter a ghostly presence at St Ignatius, just not in the way they expected.

Anti-Heroes by Golden4278 | G, 800, on-going

What if the hero and villain were secretly best friends?

Ryan and Shane are broke students at New York University, studying photography and journalism respectively. When they each stumble upon the other's secret, the boys come up with the brilliant idea to make some cash reporting on their own escapades.

Don’t Ever Change by ouijaboy | T, 1K, complete

“Look at how clear the night turned out! There’s not a cloud in sight!”

Ryan shifts grumpily again, and tucks his hands into his armpits. “Or a flying saucer. You’ve made your point, man.”

[Ryan takes Shane UFO-watching. It goes about as well as expected.]

December

Curios and Curiouser by live_from_new_york | T, 3K, complete

“Nothing in this store is haunted. Because ghosts aren’t real.”

“Oh,” Ryan said, “That’s where you’re wrong, buddy. Ghosts are real. There are several documented paranormal encounters, even just here in LA!”

Shane runs an antique store and struggles to take Ryan seriously.

Button up your Overcoat by PhyllisDietrichson | E, 7K, complete

Don’t ever get into the P.I. business with a head full of ideals and a whole briefcase full of compunctions. It’s bad for the profit margins.

A Very Little Christmas by denimwrapped | G, 3K, complete

Shane's a witch. Ryan doesn't know this. At least, not until he stumbles upon Shane's enchanted grimoire, which hits him with a curse - and on the day before Christmas, no less. Luckily, Shane's already on his way to see his family, who should be able to undo this magical mishap.

Of course, the witch thing isn't the only secret Shane's been holding onto.

And you still owe me by Haroldmay | M, 1K, on-going

Can you ever really move on?

~~~

With quick steps he moved forward and his gaze shifted around. The room was filled with all sorts of curiosities, big and small and most of them dusty. Several candles were the only light sources and he tried squint.

“Greetings!” He said, trying to be polite. “I come to you because I need a favor. A murder to be precise.”

"You come to me for this, on the day of my daughter's wedding?" Replied a voice out of the dark.

~~~

Disclaimer: This is just a little joke. More Meme than Fic. It's about the characters Shane Madej and Ryan Bergara and has nothing to do with the real people behind them: Brad Pistachio and Brian Cramblish.

Chain 4 U by ouijaboy | T, 3K, complete

"You know you’re supposed to keep your voice down in the library, right?"

Steven's just trying to get through his shift with Shane, but his friends are being super weird with each other. And each other's girlfriends. (Huh.) SMaShR, Steven POV.

January

I Could Lift You Up by ouijaboy | T, 5K, complete

WWW-inspired. Five times Shane made a big ol’ romantic gesture, and one time Ryan returned the sentiment. (Plus a little bit of ‘clearing the air’ in the middle. They’re trying their best, damn it!)

How to Befriend the Monster in Your Closet by Golden4278 | G, 143K, on-going

Ryan: Hi God, it’s me again. I just moved to LA and I’m really lonely. I need someone to be my friend, someone who understands me. Maybe… you could send me an angel? Yeah! The nicest angel you have.

Demon Shane: *LAUGHS MANIACALLY*

open the yawning grave by PhyllisDietrichson | T, 2K, complete

This close, Shane can see Ryan’s eyes are welling with unshed tears. But he’s smiling—he’s smiling so big and his voice is sure, and he sits right there on the ground, where there’s tree roots and tufts of grass and he tugs Shane against him and gently, gently, he works a firm hand under Shane’s jaw and kisses his chapped lips and Shane feels—something glow in his chest—and for the first time he draws breath without the stinging reproof of pain.

Haunting Hometowns by MmeBabs | E, 34K, on-going

“Just keep reading,” she says. Her face is undecipherable, so he continues. As soon as he reaches his band’s name drop in the article, his eyes shoot back up to hers. There’s a certain sparkle in her eye. “You haven’t gotten to the best part yet.”

“Did he – Did he call me Dave Grohl and then immediately shit on my music? I think I have emotional whiplash from this. I have so many questions.”

***

Ryan is the frontman of the popular band 'Ryan and the Phantoms'.

'Hunters and Gatherers' is Shane's one-man indie band from Illinois.

Their paths cross while out on tour.

Baby, I'm yours by tasty_littl_snack | NR, 500, complete

Ryan has to be doing this on purpose.

if you want to read some more fics, you can always check out our ao3 collection! see you soon! ♡

[dearkusuo]

Ch. 1 ☆ Last Christmas

Synopsis: You were intent on avoiding your ex-boyfriend all of winter break, however, your mom and her best friend had other plans lined up for you.

Pairing: Saiki Kusuo x reader

Tags: college au, fluff, angst

Word Count: 2.7k

m.list ▪︎▪︎▪︎ 1 ▪︎▪︎▪︎ 2

Thick clouds painted the darkening sky a dull grey while streetlights began to glow over the horizon. The cold air bit the skin on your cheeks, tinting them a shade of red the moment you stepped out of the car you parked by the curb. Your fingers fumbled to button up the coat you wore as a chill ran down your frame. 

You opened up the trunk to take out your belongings stored inside, promptly closing it shut soon after. The siren of your vehicle went off once as you locked it up, and you trotted to your porch, suitcase trailing behind while you dragged it along. 

 Flashy decorations were displayed all over your front lawn, and colourful lights were strung on the tiles of your roof. You resignedly shook your head at the extravagant presentation. 

Your parents tended to be overly zealous when it came to Christmas decorations. You’ve known that for as long as you can remember, but it didn’t make you any less hesitant to see the setup they arranged for the interior. 

Your hand drifted over the doorbell, leaving it extended in the air for a long moment. You hoped they remembered that you no longer have a house key and got home from work early. The sound of the bell rang aloud as you pressed the buzzer.

You instinctively flinched back when the door flung open seconds later. Your mother let out a squeal, wrapping her arms around you in excitement while you returned the tight embrace, a small grin gracing your lips. She hastily pulled you inside when a gust of wind passed by, causing you both to shiver. The change of temperature warmed your frigid body.

 The living room was lavishly accentuated with festive ornaments, just as you thought. Silver tinsel outlined the furniture while a heavily adorned Christmas tree noticeably stood at a corner of the room. Red stockings and green holly wreaths hung on the wall and the smell of gingerbread filled your nostrils.

Your brows lifted in surprise when you spotted your next-door neighbour sitting comfortably on your couch.

“This is unexpected,” you uttered.

Your mother’s best friend, Mrs. Saiki, stood up and ambled her way to you. She took your palms in her grip and greeted you with a hello.

"How long has it been?" She wondered.

"About a year," you answered plainly, shifting your weight from one foot to the other.

She brought both her hands over her lips to cover up a gasp. "It’s been that long? You really should come home more often."

A deep hum left your throat as you courteously nodded along in agreement. You turned your attention to your mother with a puzzled look on your face when she lightly tapped your shoulder 

“Before you arrived just now, Kurumi and I were thinking that it would be a great idea for us to spend the holidays together, so we decided to have a small party on Christmas Eve,” she mentioned cheerfully.

You gave another nod and replied casually, “Alright.” The two women often spent time in each other’s presence, so it wasn't unusual for them to plan on spending Christmas together. It was probably just a get-together they were having with the rest of their friends. “You two have fun then.”

“Actually, it will just be both of our families attending,” your mother corrected.

Your tone dropped an octave lower, “Oh?”. The implication that you had to be present heavily dripped from her words. Were they really expecting you to tag along with them?

"We thought it would be a great idea since you don’t come home a lot, and all of us hardly see each other anymore."

“Kusuo just returned from college this morning, and even Kusuke is visiting for a while,” Mrs. Saiki blurted out excitedly.

"It'll be like old times," your mother added.

Like old times. When your families always spent time together. When you were together. 

It left a bitter taste in your mouth.

Your mother and her friend happily beamed at each other, oblivious of your deteriorating mood. The turn of events left you unwilling to participate in the conversation any longer.

"I gotta go unpack,” you announced. 

“Of course, you must’ve had a long day,” Mrs. Saiki exclaimed.

“It was nice seeing you again,” you conceded, keeping up a polite smile. She gave your hand a final pat before you retreated.

"Your dad is upstairs. You should go see him first," your mother suggested.

You mumbled an acknowledgement as you marched up the second floor with your luggage in tow. As was requested, you gave a quick greeting to your father before you entered your room.

The familiar space was left in a spotless and tidied condition that led you to believe that your parents regularly dusted and maintained it in your absence. Your bedsheet was neatly tucked in without a wrinkle to be seen, and your shelves were conveniently organized. Frantically, you went through your desk drawers to check if they had snooped through your personal belongings. 

You faltered once you opened the last compartment. The sight of a wrapped present left untouched caused you to momentarily pause in shock. Your handwriting was scribbled out in black sharpie on the gift wrap, addressing it to Saiki Kusuo. 

You never did get the chance to give it to him. Closing the drawer, you made a mental note to throw it out when you got the chance. 

 You looked out the window in musing. He must’ve known that you were coming back today. The dark, dull sky was tainted white by the snowflakes that began to descend to the ground.

You padded down the stairs late in the morning. The smell of freshly brewed coffee wafted through the air. Your father sat on the couch, watching the broadcast that was showing on the TV.

"Hey," he said with a wave of his hand. He briefly looked at you before returning his attention to the news channel. You gave a simple greeting in return.

"I made plans to meet with Chiyo and Kokomi today. We're eating out, so I'll be back in a few hours," you explained, already halfway to the exit.

"Alright,” your father responded idly, keeping his eyes trained on the screen. “Your mom and I made plans with the neighbours as well. We might not be home by the time you get back."

"Got it," you called from outside the door frame. You made your way to your car, hopping on the driver’s seat and revving the engine to life with a twist of the ignition.

The drive took a little longer than it usually would have, as the weather from the previous night left a thin layer of ice covering the road. Fortuitously, you had snow tires installed on your automobile beforehand, ensuring that you made it to your destination safely.

Your friends were already occupying a booth by the time you arrived at the diner. They bombarded you with conversation the moment you sat down, anxious to know what you’ve been doing for the past few months. You apprehensively informed them of what your mother and her best friend had planned for Christmas Eve.

"That's not gonna end well," Kokomi remarked.

"Tell me about it. What were they thinking?" Chiyo griped. "You’d think they’d know how awkward it would be for you and Saiki since you two are, you know, exes."

"I don't think they care," you grumbled in a distressed tone.

You crossed your arms over your chest, brooding over the unwanted encounter that was sure to happen.

"So, what are you gonna do?" Kokomi asked.

You shrugged wearily before responding, "I’ll probably stay for a bit, then dip whenever I can." 

There was a high chance that you’d somehow get roped back into the party, but you currently didn’t have any other solutions to your dilemma. Anything was fine as long as you could spend as little time with him as possible.

A ruminating silence fell between the three of you.

“When did you guys break up again?” Chiyo inquired.

“Last year, on winter break. Around this time of the season.” 

You directed your focus on the plate of food you ordered as memories of the previous December flooded your mind. Your nose crinkled in concentration.

“It must’ve been hard for you guys to be in a long-distance relationship,” Chiyo pronounced with a long sigh.

The distance was never an issue for the two of you since he could teleport to your location anytime.

“Yeah,” you mumbled.

 Towards the end of the relationship, it felt like you were the only one who cared enough to keep things afloat. You gave it your all while he usually lacked the initiative to make an effort out of the limited time your college workload would allow.

But it’s not like everything was his fault. You had to admit that you often pushed past his comfort zone when he was content with just spending the day peacefully at home with you.

It was your dynamic that ultimately convinced you to break up with him. The two of you simply weren’t compatible together. 

You quietly chewed on your food as you listened to the carefree chatter of Kokomi and Chiyo.

You parked the car by the curb of your house. Snowflakes fluttered to the ground once again as you stepped out of the driver’s seat. You hurriedly walked to your front door, eager to get out of the freezing weather. 

There was no response when you rang the buzzer.

You let out a frustrated groan as you remembered your dad saying no one would be home when you returned. They didn’t even bother to leave a spare key for you.

You pulled out your phone, scrolling through your contacts to seek temporary shelter from a friend. Chiyo would only pry into your love life again, and you didn’t like running into Kokomi's brother. 

At this point, your best option was to stay in a random store for the next couple of hours. Your teeth began to chatter as you walked back to the front gate, ready to start your car once again.

"Oh? Look who we have here."

Your head intuitively whipped around to the source of the voice. A man with pale blonde hair strode towards you. The headgear on his head strikingly stood out.

"Kusuke? What are you doing here?" you queried.

He cocked his head to one side at your bewildered gaze.

"Did nobody tell you I was visiting for a few weeks?” 

Your eyes widened in realization as you recalled the previous night when Mrs. Saiki passingly declared that her eldest son would be returning for the holidays.

“Are you locked out?" he probed, observing your shivering frame.

You nodded timidly, unconsciously pulling your coat tighter over your torso.

"Why don't you come stop by for a bit while you wait for your parents?"

You grimaced. Knowing Kusuo, he was probably at home, minding his own business, and an interruption from both you and his brother would only put him in a foul mood. Likewise, you’d rather avoid him if you could help it.

"No, that's fine. I'll just wait at a friend's house," you insisted, shaking your head in refusal. 

"But I'm guessing none of your friends are available."

You gritted your teeth. It was always difficult to break free from Kusuke’s snare. Judging by the smirk that crept on his face, he knew that his assumption was correct. Reluctantly, you let him usher you into the Saiki residence.

Kusuke offered you a cup of tea while you patiently sat on the couch. The heat it emanated warmed your numb fingers back to life. Your eyes roamed the living room that was decorated so extravagantly, it rivalled your own. At the back of your mind, you wondered if Kusuo had teleported someplace else while you remained in his house.

 Kusuke asked you simple questions about your college experience, people you met, and your part-time job. He was being polite enough that you almost felt bad for anticipating he'd ruin the moment by being his usual overbearing self.

"Are you seeing anyone at the moment?" Kusuke inquired.

There it is. 

You didn't see how that was any of his business. A short pause lingered between you two as you kept your mouth shut. You quirked an eyebrow up in bewilderment, waiting to see where he was getting at.

"Why don't you consider going out with me?" He grinned mischievously.

"That's a lame joke, even for you," you retorted.

"How can you be so sure that I'm joking?"

You scowled at him. Kusuke didn't like people. That was enough for you to believe that he was fooling around just to get a reaction out of you. 

'What do you think you're doing?' a familiar voice rang in your mind, provoking your muscles to tense up and your jaw to lock.

He appeared out of thin air. The sight of green lenses and antennae poking out of pink hair caused you to internally panic.

"Kusuo, I was just having a chat with our lovely neighbour here." Kusuke gestured to you.

'Seems like harassment to me,' Kusuo scoffed.

"Don't be like that. It’s not like I had any ulterior motives." Kusuke chuckled. He turned to you again and imparted with a smile, "Don't take anything I've said to heart. I was just teasing you."

You figured as much, but you still couldn't help the annoyed huff you let out. 

"Did you come down here because you were feeling left out? Do you wanna join in?" Kusuke asked his little brother in a disdaining tone.

Kusuo glared at the blonde man as he quipped, 'No. I’m here to tell you to be quiet. I can hear you from upstairs.' He shifted his attention to you. The blank expression on his face caused you to fidget under his gaze.

"I got locked out of my house, so Kusuke invited me to stay here while I wait for my parents to come home," you rambled, glancing down at your lap. Although he probably already knew that.

'I'll unlock the door for you.' 

Kusuo's footsteps lightly echoed off the wooden floor. You looked up after a few seconds to see him waiting expectantly for you by the exit.

Placing down the unfinished cup of tea on the coffee table, you scrambled up from the couch. You waved goodbye to Kusuke before following his younger brother outside, softly trudging on the snow beside him.

“You look well,” you commented.

Kusuo only gave you a curt nod, a strained silence following soon after.

What did you expect? He wouldn’t bother wasting time on small talk with his ex when he was already so eager to kick you out of his house.

Both of you halted when you reached your porch. The sound of a click went off as Kusuo's hand hovered over the lock.

“Thank you,” you politely murmured, letting out a sigh in gratitude. You brazenly stole a glance at him from the corner of your eye. Kusuo's lips were pressed into a thin line, and his eyes were downcast, as though he were contemplating deeply. You thought nothing of it, returning your gaze forward.

Twisting the knob, you pushed the door open and stepped inside your home. You turned your head over your shoulder to say a coy goodbye, but no words escaped your lips.

He leaned into you, stopping a few inches from your face. Your breath caught in your throat at the intense look he gave you. Your heart skipped a beat as your body ignored your brain’s protests telling you to move.

‘Are you doing alright?’ he mused.

You could only nod in reply.

‘I see.’ 

His brows furrowed the slightest bit as he pulled back. If you hadn’t known him for years, you might not have noticed the flickering emotion on his face. You turned your body around to get a better look at him. 

Was he worried for you? It was a possibility. The two of you left on a bad note after all, and Kusuo never liked hurting someone’s feelings. Even if he didn’t care for that person anymore.

‘That’s not the case.’

"Huh?"

He vanished before your sight, leaving you standing by the door frame. The cold air breezed into your home as you wondered what he meant.

[starlightxsvt]

Fated

Pairing: Seungcheol x female reader

Genre: mafia/gang au, exes to lovers, action, slight smut

Warnings: cursing, fighting and stuff

A/N: Happy Seungcheol Day everyone! This is for our birthday boy~ I tried to keep it short but it got outta hand so whoops, strap in for the ride. Also, I'll really appreciate it if you took a minute to let me know what you thought about this cuz this took me a looot of time to write and my eyes and hands hurt really bad. Anyway enjoy!

Never in a hundred years did you expect to meet Seungcheol in the club your cousin had invited you all to. She had just returned from abroad and her wedding was taking place the next week hence it was a long awaited get together. Of course she had arranged it in one of the finest clubs in the city, the one you always wanted to visit but your regular plain desk job couldn't really afford.

You first took notice of Seungcheol when you were on your way back from the restroom, him sitting in the back, more secluded area of the club with a glass of whiskey in his hand. His eyes met yours and they went wide like saucers, a look of displease crossing his face, a rather exaggerated expression - you thought. Sure, you two were exes and went through a salty breakup but his expression was rude and brought back unwanted, sad memories. You contemplated on talking to him but he saved you from that. Standing up in a flash, he walked over to you and hissed, "What are you doing here?" His tone made your blood boil and your initial thoughts of being polite to him went down the drain, "Gee, Mr. Choi, I know I'm not someone your worthy but this is a public place and you don't own it!" You snapped at him. His eyes turned dark as he clenched his teeth and spoke, "For fucks sake, what the fuck are you doing here?" His eyes raked over your body covered in a snug deep wine colored dress.

"I'm here for shopping. Why the fuck would I be here Seungcheol?" You spat, clearly annoyed by his behaviour. Seungcheol let out a frustrated sigh, hands combing through his hair as he muttered curses under his breath.

"Listen, you shouldn't be here, Y/n", he spoke trying to calm down and held your arms. "Woah there, Choi, get your hands off me. Who are you to tell me where I should or should not be?"

Seungcheol looked like he could punch someone as he clenched his jaw tight and gave you a look that made your knees weak, "I'm not fucking around, Y/n, you should not be here."

"What the hell Seungcheol? What is your problem? I'm here to attend my cousin's party. And for the record, we're not together anymore so stop interfering in my life."

Seungcheol opened his mouth to speak, only to be interrupted by one of the suited men behind him who murmured something in his ear that only seemed to infuriate him. He turned towards you, "You- fuck, you should not be here. A deal is gonna go down here."

It took you a couple seconds to put two and two together and a sudden wave of agitation passed through you. You whispered, "You're kidding, right?"

Seungcheol was no ordinary man. He was tenacious and confident- too confident for someone who regularly killed people and ran his underworld business. You figured it out during the time you two were together and you didn't try to dig further for your own good.

"You have no idea what-" Seungcheol was interrupted when one of your cousins appeared out of the blue, "Hey Y/n! Where have you-" her voice trailed off when she saw you with Seungcheol and a smirk appeared on her face, "Oops, sorry, I'll leave you two to it." And as quickly as her came, she left, leaving a panicked you and an outraged Seungcheol. "Can you please explain what's going on?" You whispered to Seungcheol in hope of some enlightenment.

"They got Chan, okay? These mother fucking group of traffickers got Chan and asked for a ransom. They're now here for the money."

Oh no. Your heart sank at the mention of Chan's kidnapping, Seungcheol's younger brother. He was always a pleasure to spend time with when Seungcheol left for business for a long time. "That's bad," is all you could mumble as your mushed brain tried to decipher the situation. "Are you gonna give them the money?" Seungcheol scoffed, "Of course not. Those fuckers are long due for jail. Once I get Chan we're gonna blow out their brains."

You gulped. " It's too late to leave for us right?"

"Yes," Seungcheol replied, his lips forming a thin line. He looked past you, probably towards the entry of the bar and quickly shoved you away, "Go to your friends and stay put. When the firing starts hide behind the counter. Only try leave if there's no firing. Otherwise stay put, you hear me?" You nodded your head robotically, mind racing a mile a minute as you walked back to your cousins, trying to appear calm. Every nerve on your body was alert and goosebumps rose on your skin as you watched a man in a flashy white suit walk up to Seungcheol and his guards, followed by a disheveled looking Chan. You felt bad for him, seeing his normally lit face etched with exhaustion. You ignored the comments your cousins made about you and Seungcheol, waiting for things to start. You carefully looked over to the entrance of the bar and sure enough two tall men stood over there. You really had no way out.

And as expected, all of a sudden, loud gunfires echoed through the room followed by people screaming as you and your cousins quickly took shelter behind the bar counter.

"Oh my god what the fuck is happening?"

"Y/n what the hell is your ex doing?"

"You never told us he's a gangster or shit."

You ignored your cousins rather untimely interrogations thinking of a way out. The bar was a mess, broken glass pieces everywhere, the people who came to enjoy all crouched down covering their heads. You heard continuous gunfires, people groaning and bodies slumping on the floor which only made your cousins voice their panic more.

"Shit we're gonna die."

"My wedding is next week, fuck."

Your eyes peered over to the entrance which was now not occupied by any threating looking men as they were busy fighting. You all could've gotten out if it weren't for the continuous firings.

You and your cousins held your breath for a few moments until a particularly loud firing was heard followed by the sound of breaking glass. You spied from behind the counter to see Seungcheol dropping down on the floor with a groan and Chan's scream of his brother's name.

Shit. Seungcheol was shot.

Chan seemed furious, no more exhaustion on his face as he lunged for the man in the flashy white suit and hitting him square in the jaw.

"Guys, now's the chance, get out of here. Go, go."

"What the fuck Y/n? Don't tell me you're gonna stay here."

"We're not leaving you to die in the middle of a crossfire."

"No, guys, I'll be fine. Seungcheol's shot."

"What? I thought you guys weren't a thing anymore-"

"Please, get your asses outta here if you don't wanna die."

Despite their will you pushed your cousins towards the exit with a promise of calling them as soon as you could, while they called you names to point out your less than smart decision and of course your never leaving feelings for Seungcheol. As soon as they were out the door, you rushed over to Seungcheol who sat against the wall, jaw clenched as he held onto his shoulder.

"Y/n what the fuck? Get out of here- why the fuck- ugh, dammit."

"You're shot Seungcheol, maybe stop talking" You applied pressure to his bloody shoulder while Chan who sat atop of the man in the flashy white suit and twisted both his hands back and gave you an incredulous look, "Y/n? Wha- uhm, I thought- you two broke up...?"

"Uh...it's a.... coincidence, I guess. I think we need to get your brother to a doctor, you know" You murmured.

"Yea right," Chan agreed and handed his hostage over to Seungcheol's guard not before punching him in the lower stomach. "I'd kill you but that'd be a mercy. You deserve to suffer, you son of a bitch."

He helped Seungcheol to stand up with you as you both gently took him out of the club and into his limousine, all the while Seungcheol saying that he was alright.

The car ride to his place was quick but silent, except Chan who sat beside the driver once spoke to let you know that it was good to see you. Seungcheol rested his head on your shoulder as he let out uneven breathes and you applied pressure to his wound.

"I guess you... really... can't escape...fate, huh?" He whispered and you frowned at him. "What do you mean?" You asked him but he only replied with a chuckle, his body getting heavier against yours. Your heart ached for the man. You were never over him, you knew that deep down. Hell, your cat even knew that.

Seeing Seungcheol's large mansion again brought back sad memories but you couldn't really focus on them. His servants rushed Seungcheol into the small infirmary of the house where a doctor was waiting.

You stayed outside, anxiously tapping your foot against the marbled floor while quickly typing a message to your cousin letting her know you were okay before putting your phone on mute.

The family doctor appeared with good news, saying his wound wasn't that bad and only a few stitches had it covered. While Seungcheol was transferred to his bedroom, Chan called you to the large dining hall to offer you a glass of water.

"Are you gonna stay the night? Should I set up a room for you?"

"Uh, um, no maybe I'll stay by Seungcheol's side," you replied, avoiding eye contact.

"Sure," was all he said as a smirk took over his lips. We're you really that obvious?

It was past 12 when you decided to peek into Seungcheol's room, after you stole a pair of night suit from his closet which was uncomfortably large for you. You sat by his bed, taking in the way he looked while sleeping. His injured shoulder was casted in a sling and his hand rested over his naked chest. Small scratches were painted over his chiseled face and you lightly stroked them. You relished the bittersweet memories you had with him in this room, from all the romantic nights to the fights. Before you knew, you were asleep.

You woke up to Seungcheol's hand softly stroking your cheek. Your eyes met his and warmth spread on your cheeks. You looked at the clock. It was almost four.

"How do you feel?" You croaked, sitting up from the stool by his bed.

"I'm good." Seungcheol was a strong man. You knew his body had gone through a lot and judging by how he looked, you took his word for it.

"You stayed," he whispered. His face was illuminated by the moonlight coming from the open balcony doors, the face of an angel. You only nodded, transfixed by his beauty, hoping he couldn't see your embarrassed face. "What did you mean by that? The thing you said in the car," you spoke and Seungcheol carefully sat up. He sighed and leaned against the headboard before meeting your eyes. He looked...pained. "I'm sorry."

"What?"

"I never broke up with you because you weren't enough. You were more than anything I ever wanted. I broke up with you because...I was...scared." He swallowed. "Things were not really going according to my plan back then and...this mother fucking gang was threating to harm you. I... couldn't let that happen, Y/n, so...I broke up with you."

You stare at him, incredulous. "You...you have some serious issues, Choi Seungcheol." You whispered. Seungcheol chuckled softly, " You- you mean the world to me. I was so scared something would happen to you if you stayed with me. I know I made an awful decision and I said awful things to you-"

"No shit, Seungcheol, your words weren't exactly the most helpful for my already insecure self." You spat.

"I know, and I'm so, so sorry." He sighed, his head dropping down, "What happened yesterday only proved that I really can't escape fate."

"So you are saying we are fated to be together?"

"Aren't we? I mean, look at us."

You laughed softly before saying, "I'm still mad at you, you know." Seungcheol smiled at you as he took your hand and planted a soft kiss, "You can take out all your anger on me if that means you're gonna give me another chance."

"I'll...have to think about it," was your reply even though you knew your answer. "That's great. That's more than I deserve." Seungcheol mumbled. "Can I hold you?" He softly asked. You scooted closer to him, careful to avoid his injured shoulder as he passed his other hand around your waist. His faces inches away from you, he spoke, "You are the most beautiful thing that happened to me, Y/n and I'm sorry I let you down like that. I promise you, if you give me another chance I'll make it all up to you. I'll make you the happiest woman alive. Come back to me, baby."

You gulped feeling emotional as you replied, "Okay but you need to get well first you know." Seungcheol's eyes bored into yours, his chocolate orbs getting more intense by the seconds before he pressed his lips to yours. The kiss was soft and short before he pulled back to assess your reaction. When you didn't resist, he pulled you in for a messy, hot kiss that left tingles all over your body. Before you knew it, you were in his lap, tugging at his hair as he nipped across your neck and shoulders. There was no way this wasn't gonna end up with you underneath him if you didn't stop him. "Seungcheol...stop it. You're hurt."

"I could have half of my body ripped open and still not resist you baby, you are divine."

"Uhm, that's concerning but okay. Why don't we get some sleep now?" You pulled back from him and a pout took over his face.

"You are seriously not thinking about having sex right now, are you?"

"Why not? It has been so long and I miss you."

"I get it horny boy but no. How about we cuddle now and when you are fully healed you can keep me in your bed all day."

A devilish smirk took over his face that made you squirm, "Is that a promise sweetheart?"

You nodded shyly before gently lying on his uninjured arm and wrapping a hand around his torso. Damn, it felt good.

Seungcheol kissed the top of your head as you snuggled closer. He whispered, "Promise me you'll stay."

"I will," you smiled.

"Unless my cousins find my location and drag me out of here tomorrow."

[stealingpotatoes]

I am OBSESSED with your Desmond lives AU!! I want Shaun and Rebecca to be able to give Desmond all the hugs, I want Desmond to be able to choose to be an Assassin, to be able to help save the world again. Also, I am very curious about how you would resurrect Desmond, because I’ve had similar thoughts on such an AU, but I currently stick it near the end of Valhalla with the stuff that happens there. If you ever feel like expanding on it, I'd be super excited to see more!!!

first of all, AH THANK YOU!!! Yes those are ALL points that are very important to the Des Lives AU! Second of all, thank you so much for this ask in general!!! I was hoping someone would send an ask like this so I’d get an excuse to talk abt the AU more lmao XD!! I made this AU back in March last year, so there’s no Valhalla stuff in it, and it’s set right after/ during the Odyssey DLCs. 

The long story short for my Desmond Rez (rezmond, if you will) is “shroud of eden, abstergo, and some Isu bullshit”. The long story long, however, is uh- you know what? I’m going to use this opportunity to explain the vague story I worked out last year -- but dw, I WILL get to the full ressurection explanation I thought through. However... I’m gonna have to tell the story in smaller parts because I’m lazy and can’t be bothered to write the whole thing out right now. So rez comes later and not in this post. 

also uh-- before we start: I’m going to apologise for like… everything about the way I wrote this. It’s sort-of half fic, half that-way-your-friends-colloquially-tell-stories-that-you-can’t-keep-up-with. Mainly the latter. If you can make sense of this babbling, well done.

 Anyways, without further ado, welcome to:

POTES TRIES TO EXPLAIN HER DESMOND (SORTA) LIVES AU: PART ONE

On the 21st of December 2012, Desmond Miles dies. 

It’s not for nothing -- his sacrifice saves the entire world from a solar flare -- but he is dead. big ripz. The Assassins, his family, do not manage to recover his body. Abstergo gets it first. The Assassins hold a funeral as best they can. They mourn (all in their own ways), they keep fighting (for his memory), and they try to move on (they can’t). 

On the 21st of December 2012, Desmond Miles died -- so when he shows up in a city in October 2018, almost 6 years later, it’s a bit of a shock for everyone. What’s even more of a shock is the fact he’s glowing like an Isu and has some abilities he DEFINITELY didn’t have when he died.

So Desmond wakes up in the middle of some city in he doesn’t know where (yeah ok i just never really worked out where the secret lab would be), with 1. no idea of how he got there and 2. no idea why his arms are glowing like that. He doesn’t get much time to think about it because then there’re a load of Abstergo goons with guns surrounding him. Des may have no idea what’s happening, but he knows one thing: when u see an Abstergo, it’s on sight. So he’s fighting them -- which is admittedly not fun or easy when you’re in the middle of a road and only have your fists as weapons. It’s not going well and then someone definitely manages to shoot Desmond which is very bad -- but then Des feels some very weird (but not unfamiliar) feeling and when he looks up from the bullet wound, every one of the Abstergos are on the floor???? He doesn’t think to check if they’re dead, just legs it out of there lmao. 

//

Elsewhere, in an Assassin safehouse in an undisclosed location (can you tell I just didn’t think about the geography of anything), Mr Shaun Hastings is chilling on a balcony after a mission well done. Good for him. Then Rebecca Crane (queen ilu) yells “Shaun?” from inside. 

“Rebecca?” 

“Come inside. Now.”

Shaun immediately does so because he assumes it’s important or they’re under threat. “What happened? Have we been compromised?”

Rebecca doesn’t answer. 

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Shaun says, mostly joking and with a little smirk -- though Becs looks spooked. 

“Desmond’s alive.”

Shaun’s not smirking anymore. “What?”

“Desmond’s... he’s alive.”

“What are you talking about? Are you high?” he’s totally about to look at her eyes to see if they’re all dilated and druggy. 

“No Shaun, I mean it!” Becs harshly shoves her tablet into his hands. 

Shaun doesn’t really know what he’s expecting to see when he looks down at the screen. What he’s not really expecting to see is Desmond Miles, who’s been dead for six years, fighting a load of Abstergo people -- while lined in Isu markings (also he’s not wearing a shirt forgot got to mention). ??? But wtf??!?! Desmond’s dead. That’s...

“It’s security camera footage from [the city]... About two hours ago.” Rebecca then swipes through more footage with shaky hands and explains that Des very violently burst out of an Abstergo facility in the city with glowing eyes and light leaking out of him (almost like an Apple of Eden). Then the glowing eyes and shining lights shuts off abruptly and Des is standing in the middle of the road looking very confused at his precursor-ass arms and chest. But Shaun is barely listening to what she’s saying and barely even looking at the screen. 

“Where did you get this?” Shaun asks with a hollow voice, not looking up. 

“The Initiates.” (bc who else)

Shaun looks at it again, then at Rebecca, and he’s mildly aware of the fact he’s slightly tearing up; “That’s fake. That can’t be him. He’s dead, Becs. We both saw the…” They both saw the autopsy footage the ac4 researcher got from Abstergo -- or at least, tried to watch it; they shut it off as soon as Shaun ran to the bathroom to throw up and Rebecca quickly joined him. They spent the rest of that night crying and drinking way too much. 

“He died.” Shaun concludes firmly. 

And so Becs is all like “yeah but what if he didn’t?? We need to find him. We need to investigate this.” There’s a determination in her eyes and Shaun knows he’s not going to be able to convince her to drop this -- not that he would. Desmond might be alive, and there is no way they’re going to leave him again. 

They’re both standing there in pure shock and confusion, not saying anything. 

Rebecca’s comm device lights up and starts buzzing, snapping them out of their general ????-ness. Becs goes to her desk to grab it, glances at the caller id and then shows it to Shaun. It’s William Miles. 

The two of them share a Look. They know what he’s calling about -- what else would it be? There’s a stilted moment of neither of them doing anything before Rebecca finally accepts the call. “William?” 

“How quickly can you and Shaun get to [city]?” William sounds shaken -- probably the same way Rebecca and Shaun are -- which is a very weird way to hear the Mentor of the Brotherhood sound. He’s seen the footage, hasn’t he? 

“In a few hours,” Rebecca replies. 

“Good. You need to get there as soon as possible.” 

Everyone’s silent for a few moments. 

“Is this about Desmond?” Rebecca asks. Dumb question. 

There’s a pause. “You’ll be briefed on the ground.” And then he hangs up before Shaun or Rebecca can yell at him.

This is all moving very fast. Shaun and Rebecca share another look. Guess they’re going to [city].  ???

// 

Fast forward several hours and Rebecca and Shaun are in The City [might just have to make the city london bc it’s the one city i actually know well -- however for plot reasons we’ll see later, a swiss city might be better… moving on!]. They get to an assassin base and meet up with Galina Voronina and 2 local assassins. Idk if you’ve read the comics, but to sum things up quickly, Galina and her team were investigating and then ended Project Phoenix -- so Galina now really wants to find out if the whole Desmond thing has anything to do with that. 

Galina also wants to help Shaun and Rebecca get their friend back. They’re her friends, but equally she just lost one of her teammates to Abstergo (while ending Phoenix like 2 months ago, in the comics) and is uh- idk how to say it but she wants to help Shaun & Becs who have a chance to get their lost teammate back.

What follows is cool gang-gang trying to track down any trace of Desmond. You’d think it wouldn’t be hard to find a person who literally glows, but Desmond’s had centuries of Assassin training and knows how to hide lol.. which is making the Assassins’ job harder lol. 

What’s making it even harder is the Assassins know they have to be quick because they know Abstergo is gonna be looking for Desmond too -- and they have way more resources and stuff. That being said, they’re also currently dealing with the fact one of their building and a decent amount of their guards just got absolutely mullered by weird-glowing-desmond. 

The third issue with their entire thing is that they have no idea what they’re going to find when they find Desmond -- or if he even is Desmond. Is he going to be the man they knew but with weird powers? an Abstergo isu-clone? evil? they don’t know, and so they know they’ve got to be wary with him. 

The Assassin gang spend some time (a couple of days at the very most) trying to track Desmond down. Rebecca is using all the tech she can get her hacker mitts on to find a trace of him and equally throw Abstergo off Des’ trail. 

Soon enough, they get a solid lead -- don’t ask for the specifics, i don’t know them. But they get a lead, and it winds them up in an abandoned apartment building or also abandoned building site or something (a building in the city where there aren’t any people, basically). 

Galina scans the place with Eagle Vision and she’s like “There is something very strange about this place.” (someone?) But she doesn’t see a person-shape anywhere. The 5 of them are hopeful but somewhat on edge. 

They go about searching for any sign of Desmond. Galina’s pretty sure her Eagle Vision is just… Messing Up A Lot lol. Like something’s trying to heck with it. So she’s not quite sure it’s working correctly when a load of red figures appear somewhere below them. 

She becomes a lot more sure when the red figures come into sight and START SHOOTING AT THEM! IT’S ABSTERGO!! CRAP! they found them!!

The assassins get down and a really cool fight scene w them vs the Abstergos in the building/ building site starts playing out. Woo Shaun and Rebecca electro-hidden-blade moments!! The fight splits the squad up and Shaun and Rebecca are away from Galina & the others -- but they dispatch the Abstergo guards near them.

They’re about to radio in that they’re all okay/ check if Galina & co are also good when they hear a slightly-too-loud footstep. They whip around to see an Abstergo guard aiming right at them, too far for either of them to get him before he shoots them. crap crap crap.

They would have been shot -- if someone hadn’t come up behind the Abstergo guard and snapped his neck (ouch). 

The Abstergo drops to the ground, revealing the person who saved them and… Shaun and Rebecca stare in shock. 

They’re both looking at Desmond Miles. 

Desmond Miles, who is very much alive (and wearing a hoodie that is 100% stolen). And… with a load of glowing yellow lines on his face. But it’s Desmond -- it’s Desmond for sure. Holy shit.  

Desmond doesn’t seem so shocked, only relieved to see them. Then his expression turns into serious confusion; 

“What the fuck is happening?”

///

ok sorry leaving it there for now! hope you enjoyed what is here will continue soon

[tiredcowpoke]

TITLE: Of Lines PAIRING: Arthur Morgan/Reader REQUEST: @all-good-things-have-a-ending requested for a college/university au with Arthur x Reader. WARNINGS: Not really? Some mention of divorce and cheating (in the past).  NOTE: This is long again, sorry. lmao Really, this is such a broad idea that it could be a whole thing, so it was hard to figure out where to end this for a sort of one-off thing. Anyway, just some stuff to note. I did shift around the idea of student x professor because it’s got a power dynamic that I’m not a fan of, despite both Arthur and reader being consenting adults in this. So, instead I went with a professor x professor thing with some compromise on that. However, I hope it’s still good. I rewrote parts of this multiple times so I hope it worked out nice in the end. lol This can also be read as gender neutral, there’s not much focus on the reader’s gender.

With it being a familiar university, you figured it would curb some of the anxieties you had about this. 

Yet, you felt like a new student.

However, it had been a good couple years since you were a student of anything. This time it would be a role reversal where you weren’t the one sitting in one of the chairs in the lecture hall, hoping the professor had a good vibe about them and that the course material wouldn’t be too brutal. No, you were the one standing in front of that student and many others just like them. Thankfully, you didn’t have to deal with the eight-in-the-morning stares of a way too early history course but the idea had your stomach twisting something bad at points. 

You were in charge. You knew the material and you had your lecture notes, just had to...give a little introduction to yourself and the course layout and worry about the content the next day. 

The thought pulled a small sigh from your nose, something grounding as another dull ding of the elevator told you that you were arriving at the floor you needed to be on. 

Thankfully, the first thing you had was an office hour that could allow you to collect yourself before you started your day of lecturing. You weren’t expecting any students, not on your first day. The university was still pretty small, newly minted and trying to make a name for itself, and you knew the office building was a bit of a mix and match. You knew you would be sharing the office space with someone, as it had been in your previous institution. 

Walking down the hall toward the door you were looking for, having chanted the name a couple times coming in order to find it, you were greeted by a somewhat animated student stepping out of the door, talking quickly with someone sitting just inside. Well, there went your hopes of having the space to yourself for a bit. You tuned out the conversation for a moment, glancing up at the names beside the threshold of the door. Only two, your name, seasonal instructor, and an Arthur Morgan, Phd. 

The name gave you pause, your eyes narrowing a moment as a small pang of familiarity hit you. Morgan. Morgan…

“Well I’m gonna go over that project in class, so don’t go worryin’ too much about it right now, alright?” 

You glanced up at the voice, now much clearer as a man stepped out from the doorway as the student he was talking to slipped by you with a small nod and wave. His face hit you instantly, though you knew he had aged some over the last couple years. Little less lively, looking somewhat tired, despite the somewhat friendly and inquisitive stare he gave you in return. 

“You here for the office hour?” he asked, “I got some time right now for a couple minutes, if that works. What course you in?”

“Oh, I’m not in any course,” you replied quickly with a small chuckle--he didn’t recognize you. You weren’t sure if you were relieved or a little disappointed about that.

“I’m actually just looking to get into my office…” you continued, pointing slightly toward the empty desk space behind him. 

“Oh,” he replied, the surprise that touched his expression a little amusing, “Ah, right--course you ain’t. I’m sorry, it’s been...a mornin’.” 

“Yeah, I can relate,” you said, stepping in after him once he had turned with a somewhat heavy sigh. 

You placed your things down on the desk, letting out a small breath through your nose. This was an interesting turn of events. You knew you might run into the professors you had been taught under, coming to teach at the college, now university, that you had got your degree from before moving on. He had aged a bit in appearance from what you remembered of him, but you recognized his voice. Out of all the people you could have been sharing office with, it was that old professor you had wished you could have strangled when you were a student. 

Taking a Fine Arts course for the credit had been required for your degree, and taking a fundamentals to traditional drawing had seemed like easy credit. Maybe it would have been, if it hadn’t been Arthur teaching it. He had seemed nice enough--laid back teaching style, admittedly nice to listen to and you had certainly heard enough comments about how he wasn’t hard to look at either. Yet, when that first project rolled around, things changed. Sandwiched between a couple heavily essay focused courses, trying to work on a drawing seemed easy enough that you hadn’t given it much thought, and he had been quick to kick you in the teeth for it. The grade had been bad and his comments seemed...overly nit-picky at the time. His previously laid back attitude had started to come across as arrogant to you soon after, making him your least liked professor that semester. 

You had finished his course decently enough after that, making it a semester goal to make the final project to his liking as a sort of metaphorical flipping off. ‘I am listening and did retain your lessons, you ass.’ 

You had drank after finals to moving on from his course. 

“You teach here before?”

The question pulled you from long dead and buried frustrations, your gaze lifting from one of your lesson plans toward where he was leaning back against the chair. You wanted to laugh--if only he knew. 

“No, this is my first year here at least. I did teach at another institution in the city for a couple years, but got a better deal here.” 

“That explains it,” he said with a small nod, pausing a moment before he extended a hand out toward you, “Arthur Morgan, Fine Arts professor.” 

Yeah, you knew. 

“History. Seasonal, for now,” you replied after gripping his hand, followed by your name. 

There was a touch of something in his expression, a slight narrowing of his eyes. You thought for a moment that it clicked and he remembered you. However, if he did, it wasn’t commented on as you broke the handshake, turning back to his work after a small grin and nod. 

A part of you was feeling somewhat grateful for the conversation being dropped. 

                                                             ***

After the first initial weeks, putting names to faces and breaking into the course material, things started to fall into place for you a bit more. 

Really, it started to feel more like how it was at your other institution. Though, with it being a smaller university, that meant smaller classes. Your introductory ones were a little fuller with people taking them for the required credit, your higher level ones thinning out a bit. However, that wasn’t a terrible thing, those courses starting to feel a little more relaxed than your others and it put less on your plate in the long run. 

Your continued office hours with Arthur were going alright, too. The two of you managed to work around each other, knowing you tried to tune out the conversations he had with his students and Arthur doing the same with the odd one that would come to you for advice. However, from the office hours you remembered having with him, the ones he had these days seemed a little more...forgiving. Granted, you had avoided going to him for anything while you were a student likely on pride alone, but the odd time you had it was an experience that you had wanted over with quickly. 

Perhaps he could tell. Still. 

Yet, there was the odd time you would be interrupted by his cellphone and the odd grumble about it, Arthur usually hurrying out of the room to answer it. There was the odd time he would shoot you and/or the student you were advising an apologetic smile before slipping out. 

You didn’t want to dip into his personal life. He had his good days and bad days. 

Though, you really weren’t expecting to walk in on it. The campus had a small coffee shop that it seemed both professors and students frequented, yourself included during the time you had between classes to eat. However, you were surprised to see a familiar figure waiting in line, talking quietly into his phone. You really didn’t want to surprise him or eavesdrop, but with how the line was currently set up, it was kind of hard not to. 

However, much as you had your gripes about him from your time as a student, you wanted to respect his privacy. Still, he seemed to be in some heated argument with someone, his tone quick and stiff. You were somewhat familiar with it, though not in this context. Yet, he fell silent as the other person on the line seemed to talk, Arthur bowing his head as he ran a hand across his face. 

Though, you found your gaze dropping as he seemed to look around himself as he listened. His gaze landed on you for a moment before he continued on in a more even tone with his conversation, seeming to wrap it up as he hung up with a sigh. You bit the inside of your cheek, trying not to look as awkward as you felt. 

“The food here any good?” he asked, casting you a glance over his shoulder somewhat. You pulled your gaze away from his own to glance toward the menu, twisting your mouth to the side somewhat. 

“I think they’re locally made, so I don’t want to say anything bad. Could be worse, I haven’t gotten sick or anything.” 

Arthur hummed lightly, somewhat amused but it wasn’t hard to see the tension lingering. 

“Well, it’s either this or nothin’ for me today, so guess I’ll have to take your word for it.” 

“The coffee seems to be the popular choice, anyway,” you continued, shrugging before glancing down at your phone to check your email a moment while you waited. A couple automatic reminders, students telling you of sickness, and a few questions you still had to answer. 

“You wanna eat with me?” Arthur asked, causing you to glance up with slightly raised eyebrows. 

“Sure, why not?” you replied with a small shrug. You were colleagues, it wasn’t some taboo thing. 

Not that you were thinking of him in any other way. That train of thought pulled a small tightness to your brow, a frown tightening somewhat on your face. You really didn’t want to think too deeply on it, but being back on this campus pulled a lot of interesting acknowledgements forward. Perhaps you had to set aside your judgement you had made of him as a teacher, and...well, there had been a part of you, even back then, that had wanted to impress him. You had told yourself it was some wounded pride, yet you had to wonder why it was that class. It had been something taken just for the credit. 

Maybe we should stop carrying on like a child. 

You placed your order, picking up the coffee and one of the pre-made sandwiches from the stand before following Arthur toward one of the free tables. 

“I...I’m sorry ‘bout the phone calls,” Arthur said after a moment once you had sat down across from him, causing you to raise your eyebrows slightly before shrugging. 

“They’re not as disruptive as you think,” you replied around your own shrug, “Don’t worry about it.”

“Universe seems to know when you’re around so you can witness ‘em…” he muttered into his own cup, removing the lid as he tested the heat of the beverage. 

You watched him for a moment, knowing you should just leave it at that. Enjoy your food, at least as much as you could, and move on. Yet, you found yourself biting the inside of your cheek, the cardboard sleeve of the coffee cup warming the tips of your fingers as you hovered your hand around it. 

“...You okay?” you asked, bracing yourself to pull back if you crossed some sort of boundary. 

Arthur glanced up at the question, meeting your gaze for a moment before dropping it again and shrugging as he took a sip from his own cup. 

“Sure,” he replied, leaning back in the chair somewhat, “Just...some personal issues. It’ll be resolved in a couple weeks, can just...move on from it.” 

“It can be hard to leave that stuff at home,” you replied, nodding your head, “Went through the ringer myself in my second year teaching.”

Arthur let out a small sound from the back of his throat, something close to agreement. You started to eat a little in the silence that followed, though the admission that followed had it hard to keep the touch of surprise out of your expression. 

“I’m gettin’ a divorce,” he stated, not looking up from where he was studying the surface of the table. 

“...I’m sorry to hear that,” you replied after a moment, watching his expression as he shook his head. 

“Picked the worst month for it, feels like I’m goin’ through the motions here with all that in the back of my mind. Ain’t so bad when I know I’m not gettin’ a call in a bit, but feels like she’s expectin’ me to drop everythin’ because she’s still tryin’ to move out. I know my schedule isn't makin’ that easy.” 

“That’s...messy business,” you replied with a small nod, glancing down. “I, uh...I got cheated on a couple years back in the middle of a semester. Had to try to run a lecture during the same week, fielding the...stupidest questions while holding that in my chest and had to look the bastard in the face at the end of my days trying to split up our stuff. It really feels like you’re going through the motions, but...it’ll feel more natural again after a while. Though, I imagine I went a little hard on undeserving students during that point.” 

“Hell I’m probably doin’ it, too,” Arthur returned, causing you to chuckle lightly. 

“Eh, I wouldn’t say that.” 

“Why’s that?”

You glanced back up at him, a small grin pulling at your expression as you raised your eyebrow. “You really don’t recognize me, huh?”

The completely confused expression that tightened his expression almost had you laughing again, Arthur taking a moment to really look at you. Being under his gaze had you almost wanting to squirm and glance away, but you had started this whole thing. Eventually, there was a shift in his expression, his head lifting somewhat before he was leaning back. 

“You were in one of my classes,” he stated around a small huff, causing you a nod with a grin bit back. 

“A good couple years back, yeah,” you said, “You made it hard to forget, considering I was pretty convinced you made it your mission to rake me over the coals for a fundamentals to drawing course.” 

You were expecting some defensive remark, for him to lean into that small voice in the back of your head that told you that you hadn’t really applied yourself in that class until he forced you to. Yet, he just ducked his head slightly, letting out a small huff of a chuckle. 

“...I was a bit of a cocky bastard when I was younger,” he replied, “Might’ve been feelin’ a little showed up by some of my students. Y’know, ‘those who can’t do, teach’.”

“Ah, I’m sure that’s not true,” you muttered, rubbing the back of your neck somewhat, “Though, I’m happy to see you stepped off that a bit over the years.” 

“Sure,” he said, meeting your gaze with a small grin pulling at his lips, “Though, I grade fair. Always have.” 

“Yeah, well...I might not have been giving much of an effort until you showed me that wasn’t going to work. I thought it would be easy credit.” 

“Well, guess we both had somethin’ goin’ on with that.” 

“...It was still an introductory course.” 

“Alright, alright.” 

You both shared a bit of a chuckle after that, the tension somewhat stepping off. You weren’t so foolish to think it wouldn’t exist after, but it felt nice to sidestep some awkwardness about you having to share space with him multiple times a week. You shared some small talk about your classes for a while before separating to finish off your days. 

Though, when you returned to your office to collect some things, you found a note sticking to one of your folders that you hadn’t put there. Pulling it off, you were met with unfamiliar handwriting. 

               I feel like I crossed a line today by telling you all of that. If I did, I’m sorry. Still, I didn’t get the chance or really thought to say so, but thank you for listening.  - A. M. 

                                                                  ***

This really wasn’t turning out to be your day. 

A hell of a day, too. The last day before a reading week and you could tell most of your students had checked out, something you were close to doing so yourself. Teaching a class at seven at night was always a bit brutal, but after knowing your car had sputtered out a final goodbye as you were pulling up to campus that afternoon and that you would have to take the bus home? Well, it sucked. 

You let out a tired sigh as the elevator came to a stop on the floor you needed, planning on just picking up a couple things from your office for the break before taking this adventure home. The evening was darker than you had been expecting with the rain that had come over the afternoon, falling steadily now as you noticed through one of the windows in the open doors you passed. Great. 

Though, you were surprised to see a light on in your office. You had been under the impression that Arthur’s classes had wrapped up well over a couple hours ago, catching him moving between reading something and checking his computer in the light of the desk lamp. Pausing at the door, you couldn’t help but curse your luck somewhat. 

You could admit that things had been pretty well between the two of you after that one lunch, even having a couple more over the months that followed. Perhaps things even started to lean a bit into a solid friendship, though it was hard to deny that small part of you that spoke to some type of attraction toward him. It really was something you kept shoving down as the days went along--he just got divorced, you should just keep things somewhat distant from that. Yet, it was hard not to notice the growing closeness, the shared jokes, the knowing looks and smiles when getting done with dealing with particularly difficult students. 

At the moment, however, you really just wanted to pick up your things and wallow in a bad day on a bus ride home. 

Yet, it was hard to do so in a particularly silent building, walking over to your desk and rummaging through your folders had him jumping slightly, glancing in your direction before letting out a breath. 

“Christ, could’ve knocked or somethin’,” he remarked, causing you to glance his way somewhat sheepishly. 

“Sorry, just needed to grab this.”

“You usually workin’ this late?” he asked as you turned around, placing your things down on the desk beside you. 

“This semester, yeah. I just got done with my last class,” you replied, shaking your head, “Now it’s just a long bus ride home. Hell of a way to start my break.” 

“You takin’ the bus? In this?” he asked, glancing toward the window with the heavy droplets of rain still hitting the pane. 

“I don’t have a choice,” you said with a shrug, “My car gave up after driving here, I had to get it towed.”

“Well…” he started around a sigh, glancing back toward his things before checking the time on his laptop. You caught onto the next part of his statement, your hands raising somewhat at your sides. 

“It’s not really a big deal, you don’t need to offer…” 

“You guessin’ my words before they leave my mouth?” he returned around a small huff, glancing back toward you, “Where in the city do you live?”

“Just a little outside it, about fifteen minutes from here,” you replied, “By car, at least.”

“That ain’t too bad,” he replied, “I can drive you--if you’ll let me.”

“...Well, I’m not exactly excited to be taking the bus at night and standing in the rain,” you remarked around a soft chuckle, “I...wouldn’t mind that, I guess. I’ll have to return the favor someday, if I can.” 

“Eh, sure. It’s fine. Just give me a couple minutes here.”

You nodded, feeling a touch of relief at not having to take the long way home, yet there was now a twist of anxiety about taking this car ride with him. Things had been pretty friendly and professionally distant for some time, the odd line stepped over every now and again but nothing extreme. Now this? 

It’s a sweet gesture, you thought as you flipped open one of the essays you had to grade over the week break, there’s probably nothing more to it. 

Still, you found yourself accepting it in the long run anyway, following him down toward the car park a couple minutes later. A bit of a beat up old truck, actually, though it still looked modern enough--which you should have expected from him. Much as he was spending his day teaching artistic young adults, he still had a way about him that made him stick out a bit. You knew you hadn’t been expecting the southern drawl when you had him as a professor those years ago. 

“Air conditionin’ sucks, but the heater’s good at least,” he remarked as you climbed into the passenger seat once he had unlocked the door for you, “Though, considerin’ the night, that’s probably for the best.” 

“Good winter car, at least,” you remarked, doing up your seat belt as he fiddled with the air and radio a moment. You could pick up on the familiar voice of the local talk radio host, something your own father listened to quite a bit. 

Interesting choice, you thought while trying to hold back a chuckle. 

Arthur started up the truck, finally pulling out from campus as you gave him your address. Really, it was hard not to feel a little awkward to be sitting in his car like this, much as you were grateful for the offer. You tried not to give into the urge to dig around, a nervous habit--always had to do something with your hands. Instead, you let the lull in conversation fall off somewhat as you listened to the rumble of the engine, the faint voice of the radio host, and the rain against the roof and windows. Still, you couldn’t really help yourself--

“You really are a lot more modern cowboy than I had been expecting,” you commented, earning a quick laugh, something genuine. 

“Yeah, goes a little deeper than the accent. Just the way I grew up.” 

“So how’d you end up here?” you asked, glancing toward him. You were aware it was a bit of a bold question, but you had been feeling a little more comfortable about that lately. With him, at least. It was something you could overthink later (or kick yourself over later if he brushed it off.)

“What, the city?”

“Sure, teaching.” 

“I can draw,” he said around a small chuckle, “Had a friend get my foot in somewhere, allowed me to get into college and it took off from there.” 

You nodded, taking that in. You knew he really wasn’t all that older than yourself. You had started college as a mature student after giving up on the idea for a while, going back after you found yourself considering it again. 

“I wish I had a more interesting story, but mine lines up pretty well with that,” you replied around a soft chuckle, “Minus the foot in the door, but I had a couple people push the idea after drifting around a bit after high school.” 

“Yeah, that sounds pretty common,” he remarked. 

“Thanks for doing this, by the way,” you said after a beat, “You could have left it at a ‘that’s too bad’ and let me sort it out, and I wouldn’t have been mad.” 

“Eh, it’s nothin’,” he said, glancing toward you for a moment, letting out a small sigh through his nose as he looked back out at the road. “Don’t have anythin’ waitin’ on me back home, anyway.” 

You hummed, nodding your head lightly as he seemed to let the conversation fall again at that. You noticed the tightening of his hands on the wheel for a moment after. The written words of that little note sat in your mind a moment--more about crossing lines. Really, you found yourself wanting to ask how he was doing with all of that. You had noticed the phone calls had become less, Arthur’s energy picking up a little but it was hard to tell sometimes if he really was doing alright. Still, if he wasn’t going to expand on that, you weren’t going to push it. 

Really, the weight of the day seemed to press down on you a bit, making it hard to keep up with heavy conversation anyway. You watched the scenery roll by, familiar at this point. Eventually, you could pick up on the landmarks that suggested that your neighborhood was coming up. You directed him around the turns until the familiar building came into view, Arthur pulling up into the driveway. 

“Well, this is it,” you said around a somewhat tired sigh, “Thank you, again.” 

“Yeah, it’s no problem,” he returned. 

You paused a moment, knowing you should just open the door and get out. However, his little offhand comment seemed to sit in your mind for a moment, making you bite the inside of your cheek. You knew you were going to leave it be, yet--

“You, um...are you going to be okay?” you asked, meeting the somewhat confused look he had been settling you. 

“Oh--yeah. Yeah, I’ll be fine,” he returned quickly, waving a hand. “Not even sure why I said that, just slipped out. I’ve been...gettin’ used to it again, you don’t need to worry.” 

“Well...in the vein of saying things we maybe shouldn’t say, I do find myself wondering about how you’re doing anyway,” you replied, “But alright. I’ll see you after the break.” 

You opened the door at that, stepping out into the cold spray of water before shutting the door. You knew your last words were bold, but you had found yourself saying them anyway. Perhaps a part of you wanted him to know that someone did care. However, you didn’t get to linger too much on that thought as Arthur’s voice cut across from the driver’s side of his truck. 

You paused as he lowered his window, stepping back toward him as he leaned against it somewhat. 

“I...you’re free to forget I even asked, but you doin’ anythin’ for the break?” 

You blinked against the slight sting of rain in your eyes for a moment before shaking your head with a shrug, feeling the wetness starting to soak into the neck of your shirt and jacket. 

“You want to...I don’t know, get coffee? Have a meal?” 

“...Is this as friends? Colleagues?” 

“Well...I wasn't quite thinkin’ of it that way,” he remarked, almost lost to the sound of the rain around you. You could feel your heart thud, a shiver ripping through you from the cold as you felt the rain soaking the top of your head but you could feel some heat touch your face. 

“Alright, sure. Why not?” 

The relieved grin that touched his face was almost enough to make your night. You knew there was a part of you that would question this, already feeling that pulling at the back of your mind as you put your cellphone number into his phone. He just went through a divorce, you didn’t want to deal with this if he was just looking to use you to sort through all of that. 

However--well, it was just a meal. You could figure that out from how that goes. It wasn’t enough to quell your excitement, at least. 

You would have laughed at the idea all those years ago that you would be willingly going on a date with professor Morgan, bane of your existence, but the thought left a smile on your face for the night anyway. 

[bangtan-madi]

546 Days Without You — Nine: Day 264

Pairing — Seokjin x Reader

Tags — boyfriend!Seokjin, older brother!Yoongi, producer/songwriter!MC, military au (ish), idol au (ish)

Genre — fluff, angst

Word Count — 2.3k

Summary — Kim Seokjin is your entire world, and that world falls apart the moment he and your older brother Yoongi are conscripted into the South Korean military.

Part — 9 / 15

Warnings — minor language

A/N — Taglist is open! Comment or submit an ask if you want to be added :) Also sorry for the late post. Tumblr has been giving me issues.

Previous — Next

The day the album drops, the group is on edge the whole morning. It's been this way every comeback. The members are progressively moodier until the morning of, then they become eerily quiet.

The second the clock ticks past the release date, there's a group sigh of relief. Map of the Soul: Dream is out in the world, and people are streaming it by the millions. No more writing, no more recording, no more producing: the brainchild of Bangtan is out.

Finally.

The hour after the release, the interviews begin. The band is scheduled for events from the initial release panel in Seoul all the way to interviews across the world. The next few weeks are going to be packed with speaking engagements and travel. Normally, this is where you let the managers take over since it's not common for producers to travel for these kinds of things. On any other album, you'd wave to them as they left for the airport and scurry back to the safety and familiarity of the studio.

But you just had to have your name put on the album.

"Oh, no," Namjoon says, grasping the hood of your sweatshirt as you attempt to do just that. "Don't think you're getting out of this panel."

Turning towards the leader with a scowl, you retort, "I'm not a member, Joon. This isn't where I'm supposed to be. This is your guys' time to shine. I belong in a studio."

He shakes his head adamantly. "Your name's on the album, several times I might add. Writer, producer, and artist. They may have looked over the writing and producing rolls in the past, but now?"

"Not gonna happen," Taehyung snickers as he makes his way towards the Big Hit dressing room. 

"I think people are more intrigued by you then they are by us," Jimin agrees, coming out of the hair and makeup room looking picture-perfect. "This is year eight for us. You're something new in the mix."

You resist the urge to roll your eyes. "The media likes anything new and shiny."

"I heard you talking to Seokjin about this yesterday," Namjoon replies. "What did he say?"

Narrowing your eyes, you pull your hood out of his grasp with a pout. "He said I should do it." 

This only causes Namjoon to smirk, knowing he's got you. He cups a hand next to his ear and leans down, as if trying to hear you. "I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch that?"

Instead of dignifying his teasing with a response, you shove the leader a bit, earning a laugh from the gentle giant. "They'll get to see me on tour. Why isn't that enough?"

"Y'know, I like her point," Jungkook grins adjusting the tie around his neck. He, too, has been primed and ready for the panel. "We can just go straight to tour and skip all this."

Hoseok enters the room, followed closely by Manager Sejin. The two men are also ready for the day's events, and you realize you're not getting out of this.

"For what it's worth, these things are really fun if you ignore the cameras and pushy paps," he says, playfully linking his arm with yours. Smiling brightly at you, he turns and escorts you towards the dressing room, much to the awe and surprise of the others. "And that's why we have security: to keep those away. This is as much part of tour as actually performing."

Once out of earshot of the others, you turn to Hoseok and mumble, "Yeah...I guess I'm just a little nervous. I remember how the press treated you boys when you first debuted. It was less than kind."

"You're tough as nails, [Y/n]. You Mins are another breed altogether. Trust me, if Jimin can do it, you can, too."

"I heard that!"

Hoseok giggles and gestures towards the dressing room, where the stylist has picked out a few options for outfits. They're all pretty, and go perfectly with the boys' album-themed attire.

"You got this," he states, letting you go and giving you two, big thumbs up.

You sarcastically mirror both his expression and gestures. "I hope so!"

Once everyone is dressed to the nines and dolled up, you're escorted to a Big Hit vehicle and sent on your way to the panel. This is far from the first time that BTS as a group has done something like this. In fact, you've attended once before, for the Map of the Soul: Persona release. It was inside one of the largest conference halls in downtown Seoul, and the seats were packed with photographers, journalists, interviewers, and even Army. Everyone was ecstatic about the release, and you can feel that same energy in the air today, despite being two members short.

As the group piles in the building, you feel Jimin and Taehyung take both of your hands. Your best friend and oldest friends are the first to notice how out of place you feel. The lights, the cameras, the crowds; it's not that you're not used to them, but they've never been focused on you before. 

"You got this," Jimin murmurs, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek before he leads the trio through the auditorium doors. 

From backstage, you can easily see the ramp that leads to the stage, and the setup in the center. The backdrop is a large, lavender canvas, covered in a larger version of the white outline of the plum blossom album art for 'Dream.' The host of the panel is a well-known personality in the k-pop industry, and as he makes his introductions of the event to those gathered in the seats, you attempt to calm yourself by taking deep breaths.

In your pocket, your phone buzzes twice. Pulling it out, you swipe across the screen, seeing two texts from Seokjin.

"I know you're nervous, but just take those deep breaths like I told you. Hold it in, and then slowly let it out. Seven seconds in, hold, and out. And trust the boys. They won't let anyone ask you questions that are inappropriate or rude. They have your back, Jagiya." The second says, "You got this. I believe in you. If I can do it, you're going to knock it out of the park."

A relieved smile slips onto your face, and you shoulders relax as you text a swift, grateful reply. As you hit send, Jimin reaches once more for your hand and tugs you towards the stage.

"Time to shine," he says with a grin. "Are you good?"

You give a single, assured nod and walk proudly behind him onto the stage. The lights and sounds drown out into a single, mute note as you find yourself being guided to a seat between Hoseok and Jungkook, near the edge of the panel. You're farthest from Namjoon, for which you're grateful in a way; as the leader of the group, he ends up doing most of the talking. Physically distancing yourself from him might be the best idea to keep you from having to speak for the group.

Once the basic introductions are made, even though everyone already knows who everyone else is, the questions from the host begin. The first few are easy questions about the album itself, the making and inspiration and work that went into it. He asks about everyone's roles and the sub units, as well as how they've handled the comeback for the last installment of Map of the Soul. The boys, mostly Namjoon, answer in their usual fashion, both elegant and truthful in their dialogue.

Then, the inevitable questions start to slip in.

"How has it been preparing for an album and tour without two of your most senior members?"

"We'd be lying if we said it's been easy," Namjoon chuckles, trying to answer the host in the most graceful way possible. "Suga and Jin did a lot of work on 'Dream' before they left to do their service, so we still feel as if they're with us, in a way. Jin has his solo track on the album, and it's one he recorded before he left. Suga did much of the songwriting and producing, per usual. But it has been hard. It's been a struggle for all of us to adjust without them, especially when preparing for the tour."

The host nods to you next, and you feel your stomach drop. "But it seems you're not completely rid of a Min family influence. Ms. Min [Y/n], how has it been working with BTS so closely on this project?"

Namjoon gives a small nod of reassurance as you lean forward to speak into the microphone in front of you. "Well...I actually have always worked as a producer on BTS' albums, so this one wasn't so different."

"But this time you're featured on the album as well, is that right?"

Swallowing dryly, you shake your head in agreement. Hoseok places a calming hand on your knee under the table, and you force yourself to take a deep breath in like Seokjin instructed. 

"Yes, I am."

"What brought that about?"

"Well, I had released my track 'Silhouette' on Soundcloud a little bit before, and it had gained a lot of traction amongst Armys. When it came time to decide the final track lineup for 'Dream,' Bang Si-hyuk-nim brought up the idea to include it." You nod down towards Namjoon with a smile. "RM thought it was a great idea, and while I didn't agree at first, eventually I came around. The story 'Silhouette' tells fits in perfectly with the narrative in 'Dream.' We added the track, and the rest is history."

The host nods, listening to your answer intently. "So does this make you the eighth member of BTS, or a stand-in for your brother?"

While trying to remain respectful, you can't help but laugh at the question. "Not even close. Everyone knows that there's only one Suga, only one Min Yoongi, and no one will ever come close to replacing my brother. I'm not trying to become the eighth member of BTS, nor am I trying to replace Suga or Jin. I'm a new artist that's being featured on the next album, just like any previous collaboration. The only difference here is that I happen to be related to one of the members. Those artists...they're one-of-a-kind. If I'm a stand-in for either of them, I'd probably fire myself for doing such a sh—sloppy job."

Your last comment earns a chuckle from the host, as well as the audience behind him. "I see you're quite a lot like your brother in many ways, so it's comforting to know that the band still has a Min on their side, even while Suga and Jin are away at service."

Jimin leans forward to speak into his mic, turning his head so he can flash a wink in your direction. "Yeah, she's been like glue for us this past year."

"We're glad to have her on board," Namjoon agrees. "And both Jin and Suga approved all of this, both before and after they left, so there's that extra bit of encouragement."

"So will we expect to see you on the Dream Tour?" Both the host and the rest of the audience go silent, waited with bated breath for your response. 

Flashing a small smile, you attempt to hide your nerves when you reply, "You'll see me in a little over a month at the opening in Seoul...and every stop after that."

After the remaining hour of the launch event is over, and the press starts to slip out of the auditorium, the members are escorted backstage to the changing rooms. The announcements being made, from now until Tour begins, the six of you are going to spend the majority of your time traveling for events. You've looked at the calendar and have seen the stops planned. Busan is next, then Tokyo, Nagoya, Hong Kong, Macau, Los Angeles, and New York City. You even recall seeing a handful of stops in Europe, Australia, and South America, as the fanbase has grown exponentially on those continents. 

"That went perfectly," Sejin says as the members come off-stage. He nods to you with a proud expression. "You were amazing. All of you."

Jimin scurries over to you and wraps you in a tight hug. "I knew you could do it," he murmurs against your shoulder. "Proud of you, [Y/n]-ah."

Your heart swells at their reassurance, and you pat Jimin's shoulder as a silent thank you. "How can you be sweaty after two hours of sitting?" you tease, shoving him off you.

The blonde scoffs, feigning a hurt expression. "Those lights are bright! And I'm wearing Gucci!"

"Does money make you perspire?"

"Go get changed," Hoseok laughs, separating you two like a mother with her children. "We need to get on to Busan, and tomorrow we fly to Nagoya!"

"Ahhh, now I really miss Jin-hyung and his amazing Japanese skills," Taehyung groans. "I should've practiced more."

The group laughs at his self-inflicted banter and begins the process of changing into travel clothes for the short trip across South Korea. 

"How are we getting to Busan?" you ask.

"Can we vote?" Jungkook asks, raising his hand dramatically. "'Cause I vote train."

Sejin shakes his head. "We have a jet already reserved."

The youngest member extends his hand towards the manager, eyes intent and fist closed. "Rock-paper-scissors for it?"

Though amused, Sejin merely points to the dressing room. "Get changed, Jungkookie."

"But—" All Sejin has to do is look directly at the brunet, cock an eyebrow, and cross his arms, and the maknae is grinning apologetically and running for the dressing room. "Plane it is!"

Taglist — @joyful-jimin​​, @gracehiii​, @live-2-fangirl​, @rjsmochii​​, @btsnatalena​

[jewel-s-blog]

I gotta bad habit - mafia!au

mafia member!jeno x y/n!reader

Warnings: mentions of death, dramatic arrest, brief suggestive content

WC: 4,244

1% fluff, 99% purified angst

What happens to your quickly progressing romance with mafia member!Jeno when you find out about the truth to who he really is? And what exactly happened in your past that makes the choice to leave or stay so difficult? Most of all, when it comes to falling in love with a member of the mafia, does it really matter what you decide?  

“Don’t go.” You begged after he kissed you gently with your face between his palms. Jeno chuckles at the pout on your lips before placing another quick peck.

“I’ll be back soon baby, I promise.”

“No…” You whine when he finally pushes himself away and sits up from the bed.

There’s not much you can say that will keep him from leaving, that much you already know. So your eyes just follow him as he starts picking up his clothes from the floor and hastily puts them on.

Jeno always did this to you. It wasn’t that he wasn’t a sweet guy, or uncaring, or anything bad really. In fact, Lee Jeno was truly one of the warmest people you knew in this town, and he made sure to show you every chance he got. The only catch was that he never had many chances. He would show up randomly, after weeks of disappearing, and then profess how much he’d missed seeing you. It didn’t help that each visit would be during ungodly hours of the night, which put you even more on edge considering the sketchy neighborhood you lived in and answering the door for anybody was always a risk. On top of that, you’d always thought that if he had really missed you so much, then why’d he keep ghosting you only to show up again days, weeks, or even months later? The answer? Jeno was a creature of habit. And so were you. Just as you were his habit, he was yours. And as you would soon come to find out, he was a bad one.

When he finished pulling his jumper over his head, he was fully dressed again. Clad in black skinny jeans and a black jumper, the sight of Jeno’s all black attire was something you’d grown accustomed to. It was his uniform of sorts—something you had learned after noticing the repetitive color scheme. But still, you admire how riveting he looked, and the thought of how it may be awhile before you’d be able to see him again floods your mind.

“Please,” you plead, “can’t you just stay tonight?”

Initially, you’d thought that this time would be different. Jeno usually had the decency to at least call or text before showing up at your place, most likely to make sure you were actually home. But tonight, he’d really just shown up out of the blue. No call, no text, just came knocking at nearly 2 in the morning. The rational side of you was nervous to answer the door at such a time, but the other not-so-rational-side had an inkling that it would be him standing outside your door, even if you hadn’t heard from him for a good three weeks. 

Nonetheless, when you unlocked and unchained your beaten door, the sight of a rather frantic-looking Lee Jeno caught you by surprise. His eyes were bold, a stark change from the crescents that he adorned for majority of your time spent together. It looked like he was out of breath, as if he’d sprinted all the way to stand before you. You didn’t know exactly what to expect when you opened the door that night, but the words “I love you” falling from Jeno’s lips were definitely not on the list of possibilities you’d had in mind.

It was far different from the usual proclamation of having “missed you like crazy,” or “I really need[ed to see] you.” Of course he did end up saying those things to you at one point in the night, but never before were these phrases led by his profession of love.

And yet, here you were again, watching as he got ready to leave after letting him use you and your bed for a measly hour.

“I’m sorry,” he says as he finishes up his belt, “I really would stay if I could.” His hands drop to his sides as he watches you sit up with the duvet securely pulled to cover your upper body. “Baby, you have no idea how badly I want to get back in bed with you right now,” he sighs.

“Then just stay,” you try to reason.

Reaching out your hands to pull him back to bed only slightly works as he does crouch over to retake your face in his hands and kiss you. But he doesn’t actually sit back on the bed, knowing that if he did, he would have trouble getting out of it again. Instead he opts to repeat the three words that he had greeted you with earlier that night.

“I love you,” he says with closed eyes and his forehead leaning against yours, “I mean it.” You can feel his thumbs caressing delicately along your jawbone, with the remainder of his large hands lightly resting on either side of your neck. 

Things sure do feel different tonight in comparison to your previous rendezvous. If you were to be entirely honest, you did notice little changes each time he came back to see you. A lingering kiss before leaving. Or him having a flower in hand when you opened the door to greet him in the early hours of the morning. You had a feeling things were starting to change, but with the gaps that Jeno left you, nothing was ever certain with him. It was better not to assume things—safer. Perhaps that is why you are still so taken aback by his words as he continues holding you so, waiting for a response. 

You hadn’t said it back to him yet, but it was mainly due to the fact that you hardly had the chance considering his mouth was on yours the moment he walked through your door. But in this moment, you desperately want to say it back. So you take a deep breath, leaning back into him and brushing your nose against his before whispering,

“I love—” 

Just as you begin to reciprocate his feelings, a loud knock resounds through the apartment. And before you can say anything else, there is another loud knocking—no, pounding—on your old door. At the alarming sound, your face pulls away from Jeno’s, much to his dismay. While your body becomes tense at the thought of someone other than Jeno knocking at your door at this hour, he seems much more collected than you.

His hands draw your face to look back at him, and he’s kissing you again. He kisses you so hard that you’re sure it will bruise nicely tomorrow. But you don’t have the luxury of closing your eyes to enjoy the moment as your mind is now racing with thoughts of who could possibly be banging so harshly at the wooden threshold to your apartment if it weren’t Jeno.

“I love you so much,” he says again, a little harsher this time staring into your widened eyes.

Then another loud bang. The sound manages to tear Jeno’s attention from you for a second, and next thing you know he’s throwing your own clothes at you.

“Quickly. Put these on,” he whisper-yells at you, tossing your pajama shorts and T-shirt on your lap.

“Wha-? Jeno, what’s going—?” He doesn’t let you finish your question. 

“Now, ____. Put your clothes on NOW.” His voice is stern, and the boldness in his eyes returns, making your stomach flip and your hands fumble for your shorts.

“Jeno! What is going on?!” you whisper back as you hurriedly pull your shorts on under the blanket. Ignoring your question again and not happy that your upper half is still exposed, Jeno takes it upon himself to yank your raggedy shirt over your head before trying to force it down.

“I got it, Jeno.” You huff, trying to grab the ends of the shirt from his rough hands. “I said, I got it!” The frustration in your voice is all too clear and the situation only grows more tense when you hear a booming voice from behind your apartment door.

“This is the police! Open up!”

In that moment, Jeno notices the shift from frustration to confusion and ultimately shock settling over your features. Your eyes are wide again, and you can’t bring yourself to do more than stare up at the man before you, questioning everything that’s happened in the time you’ve known him.

“Jeno…” you barely say his name.

“It’s gonna be okay,” he replies to you lowly, voice much softer than before, and picks you up from the bed. You feel the strength of his arms as they wrap around your waist to pull your body to his. He’s about to say something else before getting cut off again from the voice outside.

“Police! Open up now! Final warning!”

“Don’t. Move.” He says to you before reluctantly releasing his grip on your waist and leaving your bedroom to reach the front door. For a second your feet are glued to the bedroom carpet, trying to process what he’d just asked of you.

Of course you don’t listen and instead you follow him out as quickly as he had left. But not before Jeno is swinging the door open to reveal exactly what the loud voice had announced moments ago. From there, everything happens so fast that time starts to blur.

There are two officers with guns facing into the apartment and are trained directly at Jeno. Two more police officers cross through your apartment’s entrance and you freeze in the living room when they each grab Jeno by the arms to yank them behind his back. Seeing this, your feet automatically start shuffling you closer, and a near-cry escapes your throat.

“What is this?! What is going on?!”

“Lee Jeno, you are under arrest for aiding in an armed robbery…” one of the other officers begins citing Jeno’s reasons for arrest followed by his rights as he sheaths his gun back in its holster, but his voice is overwhelmed by your much louder one. You don’t know why your first instinct is to defend a man whom you knew almost nothing about other than the menial details he entrusted you with, but you do it anyway.

“Under arrest?!” You practically scream in disbelief. “There has to be a mistake! He hasn’t done anything wrong!”

There are warm pools forming in your eyes and they threaten to leak when his eyes meet yours. Having spun him around to handcuff his wrists, Jeno was now facing directly at you under the grip of his two arresting officers. You shakily inhale at the sight—the sight of the man who had just confessed his love to you being arrested for reasons you knew not of.

You’re not sure what comes over you to make you rush toward him, but one second you’re in the middle of your living room and in the next, two police officers are struggling to keep you away from being with the one person you needed to get answers from.

The worst part of it all is that you have this horrible, sinking feeling in your stomach that you may never get any answers from him. So you scream and thrash out, breaking yourself free for just a moment so that you can cup his face just as he did to yours when he told you that he loved you. You should have known the moment you opened the door to him tonight that things were going to be different. You should have known that when his first words to you were “I love you,” that there had to be a reason. You notice as his own eyes grow watery, but the time you have is cut short because you only see his face for a second before you feel your own hands being pulled behind you.

Refusing to let yourself be pulled any further, you let your body fall to the ground and continue watching as he also struggles to do anything to get closer to you. Jeno’s wild eyes are fixated at your broken form on the floor, before calling to you.

“Baby, remember what I said. Everything’s gonna be o-kay,” he says strained against the forces pulling his body backward. Soon the officers have managed to drag him out the door, and before you can lose sight of him a cry flies from your lips.

“No!” is all that you can manage while trying to stand yourself up to follow him. But the hands pushing you down are much too strong against your smaller frame, and your knees hit harshly back down to the hardwood flooring. Another cry rips through your throat, not from the pain in your knees, but from the agony you feel tightening around your chest.

Jeno can’t see you anymore, but he still hears the pain in your cry when you fall back to the ground. His eyes are no longer wild, but squeezed shut in frustration. Few tears fall freely down his high cheekbones when he calls through the hallway, “I’ll be back soon baby, I promise!” His voice reaches your ears, and you think about how he’d said the exact same words not too long ago, but this time you knew they felt…different…like he really did mean it. 

Other than a few more grunts from his struggles down the hallway, you don’t hear any more from him that night. Instead, the only sound you can hear is the one of your own ragged breathing. There are warm streaks running down to your chin, and you all but collapse in on yourself at the exhaustion your body feels from the whirlwind of events the early hours of the morning has brought.

What brings you back to the reality of still having two officers standing above you, is the crackling noise of their radios. You never could understand what was said through those things, and with the state you were in now, there was no way you could even try to make out what was coming out of them. Instead you try to steady your breathing, collecting your mind as you sniff back the loose tears. 

“Ma’am, I’m gonna need you to cooperate. Can you do that?” The female officer on your right leans down, trying to read body language since your face is pressed into the ground. 

You take a moment before nodding and sitting up. Your breathing has somewhat steadied, and you’ve managed to cease any more onslaught of tears. From there you listen to what the officers have to say to you. And from there, you learn a lot more about Lee Jeno in a few sentences from these strangers than the man himself had ever cared to tell you. 

And it is why you find yourself, six weeks later, looking at the very same man through a thick plexi-glass while holding a call-booth style phone to your ear. 

“Hey baby.” The smile that normally had you falling for Jeno every second of everyday was finally beaming brightly in front of you after more than a month. It wasn’t the longest period of time that you went without being able to catch a glimpse of it, but it sure had you feeling different this time around. 

Unsure of what to say, you just keep looking at him through the glass. It was the first time you’d ever seen him wearing glasses and from what you could tell, they were pretty thick ones. They looked strangely fitting on his handsome face, somehow making him appear even kinder than you once believed him to be.  However, it wasn’t only the glasses Jeno wore that made him seem out of place from the memories you had of him. 

Orange is not a color you were used to seeing him in, especially since you’d never seen him in any color other than black. This new sight before you strikes a chord and you can already feel your tear ducts ready to burst. You can’t breath, and his smile is disappearing as soon as he sees your face in the beginning stages of a sob.

“Baby…wait, don’t—don’t cry. I’m so happy to see you. You have no idea.” He offers a chuckle to try and lift the mood. 

But he misunderstands. You’re not about to cry because you’re sad. You want to cry because of how frustrated and upset you are. 

“You…lied to me.” In the time that Jeno was being indicted, you couldn’t meet with him. You weren’t immediate family or his attorney, so it was hard to find a way to see him any sooner. 

Over the six weeks you couldn’t see him, a lot of thoughts crossed your mind. After learning about his true “profession,” a hefty chunk of you wanted to swear on your mother’s grave to never see Jeno again. You knew what people like him were capable of. You’d seen it with your own eyes on the day that everything you loved was cruelly ripped away from you. No sane person would want to be in a relationship with someone who did the things Jeno did on the regular. 

And you were in a really tough spot now, because no matter how much your friends counseled you to “stay away from him ___,” you struggled to let go. Before, you had cut out any possible dangers in your life to protect the remaining things you loved. But how could you do that now, when the one person you had come to love most was also the one thing you vowed to never get involved with. The wild mix of emotions left you entirely drained most nights, but sleep never came to you, which only succeeded in giving you even more time to stew in your thoughts of anger, heartbreak, and confliction. All those sleepless nights are what culminated the four words you spoke to him through the clunky telephone.

“No, no. Baby, I didn’t lie to you.” At your accusation, his face drops again and he starts shaking his head vigorously. “I—I was only trying to protect you,” he stammers.

“But you knew about everything. I told you everything.” Jeno knew about your past and your fears. You’d told them to him when he would come on nights that you were feeling extra paranoid and had near panic attacks when he came knocking. “And don’t call me that. I’m not your child,” you practically spit at his already hurt-looking face. 

“Okay,” he seems slightly shaken by your curt request, “___……that’s exactly why I couldn’t tell you. I only wanted to keep you safe…” 

“Keep me safe? Safe?! It never occurred to you that you were the one putting me in danger?!” The thoughts you held onto for the past six weeks were finally becoming verbalized. But your incredulous tone only sparked further passion in his own response. 

“Of course it occurred to me ___!” His free hand clenched into a fist and fell onto the table just in front of him. You felt the intensity of the action as the table top that was shared on both sides of the glass vibrated accordingly. “That’s why I tried so hard to keep my distance from you! Why do you think I would go months without seeing you?”

And that’s when you really connected the pieces. Back when you were stewing in thoughts, it didn’t occur to you that his absences were explained in his effort to protect you. You’d figured that they were all because of his “duties” and unspoken jobs that he was always gone or too busy. 

“Lee, wrap it up.” A nearby guard states, and Jeno briefly looks away to quickly nod back in acknowledgement. 

But the conversation had died. And you no longer had it in you to dig any further into the man that was Lee Jeno. You just wanted to keep the memory of the Lee Jeno that you ignorantly held before this all happened. Knowing more would only make the decision you were about to make that much harder. Still, he does his best to open you up to him in the little time he has left. But your answers fall short, eyes never really meeting his. So he sighs, knowing that whatever he said next would likely be the closing to today’s exchange.

“I’ll see you again soon, right?”

“Hmm.” You don’t nod or look up, but just hum softly back to him. He waits for something more, and when he’s met with silence he prods,

“Come back soon, okay?”

“M’kay.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

There’s a pause before he asks, “Hey baby?”

Jeno’s question has you needing to take a breath, even if it is embarrassingly shaky. 

“Yes?” You finally find it in yourself to lift your eyes as you whisper back to him. 

“I love you.” The corners of his lips turn up slightly, but the smile fails to reach his eyes.

Nothing could possibly stop the nearly silent cry that comes out when your mouth opens next. You drop the telephone and use your hands to cover the bottom half of your face. But it does little to cover the tears that are finally falling from the corners of your eyes.

The two of you sit there with him watching you quietly weep, but then you look away. And as if on cue, the prison guard comes up behind Jeno saying, “Time to go.”

“Just one more second.” Jeno doesn’t look in the direction of the voice behind him, and instead keeps his focus fixed on you. But the guard is already grabbing the telephone out of Jeno’s hand and placing it back on the receiver. 

“You’ve used up all your time for the month already. Limit the people who visit you next time.” The guards’ words are indifferent, and he positions himself to begin escorting Jeno back to the cells. 

Limit what people? you think to yourself. How many other people had come to see him already? You should’ve guessed that his “co-workers” might have dropped by as soon as he was able to have visitors, or maybe another woman even. Nothing was ever official between the two of you anyway. But the way he acts now unfortunately makes you believe the latter scenario to be unlikely. 

“Wait, please.” He begs, but a hand grips under his arm to lift him from the seat on the other side of the glass. “I just need one more second.” Jeno’s index finger is extended, showing that he just needed a spare moment more. 

“Sorry, I already gave more time than I should’ve. And there are other inmates waiting.” Watching this exchange, you see reality and remember that you’ve already made up your mind. It would be now or never.

“…I love you.” You finally whisper back. And immediately, you wish you’d said it earlier. 

Because Jeno can’t hear it. Nor does he see it, because he’s too busy trying to fight off the hands attempting to get him standing. Everything you hear from the other side is muffled, but you can still feel the distress linger in his words. 

The guard on your side of the glass comes behind you as well, and also tells you that it’s time to go. When you don’t hesitate to stand up to leave, you can hear him yelling “Wait!” from the other side. But rather than staying to witness the scene he was causing, you opt to turn away and head for the exit door. You didn’t want anyone here, especially him, to see you more broken than you already were. 

So you leave without so much as a ‘goodbye’. 

Little did Jeno know, that would be the last time he saw you. Little did he know, you wouldn’t keep your promise. That you wouldn’t come back to see him. He waited, but you never showed. Not after a week, or a month, or even a year.

Because if there was one thing you feared most in life, it would be losing everything you had to a criminal. Your city was full of them. And you despised each and every one. He was no exception. They’d taken everything from you once before, and you were certain to never let it happen again. You’d used to agonize every time a knock came to your door, remembering that was how you’d lost everything and everyone you once had. 

For a while, having Jeno meant that most knocks would come from him on the nights he decided to grace you with his presence. But it was so foolish of you to never realize that he was the one you should’ve been afraid of standing behind your door all along.

Now it is years later. And you have not once seen or heard from him again, but you still have a fear. You fear that one day there will come a knock. A knock on the door to your new apartment. A knock on the door to your new apartment that he’s somehow found. A knock that you fear you will answer despite your better judgment. A knock you will stupidly answer and let into your life all over again simply because he’d finally come to you even when you failed to go to him. A knock from Lee Jeno.

You knew it would come, because it always did.

No matter how long he disappeared for, he had promised you he’d come back.

And even if you’d broken yours, you knew that a man like Jeno would never break his promises.

a/n: Hello readers! Happy Jeno day! I’m sorry if this is a bit belated for some readers as I’m located in PST and did a final edit last minute. This is purely a work of fiction and the characterizations aren’t 100% pulled from Jeno himself (we all know he’s literally a fluffball) but are simply based off an idea. I apologize if there are any errors or typos, it’s 3am and I have a quiz in a few hours to prepare for. As always, feedback is welcome! If you love angst as much as I love writing it, I hope this was satisfctory <3 xoxo, jewel

[1-1snailxd-art]

Sanders Sides Oneshot - Babysitting

This is how you beat writers block - you draw and then find your will to write afterwards.   

Characters/relationships: Logan / Virgil (analogical), Patton / Roman (Royality), Kid Thomas

Warnings: none

Words: 1511

Summary: This came about from a post by @fanartfunart and seeing as I’m trying to learn how to draw people better, I decided to challenge myself with a drawing....that drawing then turned into a little fic. FYI, I know there is a lot wrong with Logan’s proportions in the picture (I can see it), but Thomas is cute so whatever.  

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"Don't be such a baby, Logan." Virgil huffed, following his partner into the kitchen. "It's a kid, not a freakin' nuclear bomb."

"I know that, but..." Logan kept his back to Virgil as he absentmindedly took ingredients for dinner out of the fridge and cupboards. "I don't know anything about babysitting a child."

Watching the cook’s shoulders slump at the admission, Virgil softened his tone and moved to lean on the counter next to Logan.

"What's to know, Lo? You give him some food, easy for you, and turn on the TV. Job done." Virgil sighed when Logan didn't look away from the bowl in front of him; hands floured as he prepared a pasta dough. "Look, I only need to be in the studio for an hour at most; then I'll come straight home. You can entertain 'til I get back, right?"

"Are you sure you can't stay?"

 The tone of Virgil's phone gave him his answer as the other man quickly excused himself to take the call. It wasn't that Logan didn't like children; he just didn't think he was good for children. Honestly, he questioned daily what Virgil saw in him; a pensive, workaholic wasn't that romantic and didn't scream partner material. Patton on the other hand was destined to be a parent; they'd wanted to be one since they were kids.

The pasta dough came into shape as Logan recalled the day Patton video called them to announce they had been approved for adoption now Roman had consistent work. He'd shared in their excitement but never fully understood it. Admittedly, Logan was still hurt that Patton had moved so far away to support Roman's career and their relationship took a hit from the distance.  

Setting the finished dough aside to rest, Logan washed his hands and turned to find the dejected Virgil walking back in.

 "Virgil? What's wrong?"

"I've gotta go, Lo. Shit's hit the fan with the computers at the studio and Nate's pissed."

"How bad is it?" Logan moved closer, knowing there would be no way out of this now and accepting that he would have to face Patton alone.

"Backups failing bad. I should have gone in earlier when it was just a glitch. It was stupid of me to ignore it and-fuck I'm gonna pay for it n-"

Logan tilted Virgil's chin back and placed a soft kiss on his lips to silence the worrier.

"I apologise for my earlier attitude and clouded judgements. I will be fine this evening. You should go." Taking Virgil's hand, Logan walked him towards the door. "I will be fine until you or Patton return."

"Yeah, you will." he replied with a half-smile, before giving Logan a final kiss goodbye and heading out the door.

  The silence of the apartment was crushing as Logan threw himself onto the couch; sliding his glasses up off his face as he massaged his brow. It was all too much at once. First, he was just worried about seeing Patton and Roman again after years of dwindling contact; then they asked the couple to babysit while they went to the award ceremony that brought them to town; and now Logan would have to face it all alone. A knock at the door pulled Logan from his thoughts and he was quick to sit up and correct himself before answering it.

 "Hey Specs" Roman smiled from the entry; the pink backpack on his shoulder a harsh contrast to the black suit he wore. "It's great to see you again!"

"It's good to see you too, Roman. You are looking well considering the travel."

"Oh please," With a hand gesture Roman stepped into the apartment and put the apparently heavy bag down. "It would take more than a few hours on a plane to ruin this face."

"Indeed," Logan chuckled, turning just in time to see a pink blur heading towards him.

 "Uncle Logan!" Came a cheery voice as a body slammed into Logan and constricted his middle.

"Um...Thomas, I presume."

Logan looked up to see Patton beaming as they walked up the path in a simple blue gown. They looked so happy and lively that Logan forgot all his past grievances; it seemed Patton was happy and that was all that mattered.

"That's my Thomas," Patton giggled.

"It's good to see you again, Patton." Logan pulled a face as he looked down at the figure still holding his arms by his sides. "Your son is very... Huggie."

Roman and Patton both laughed, and Roman snapped a quick picture of the awkward man pinned by his son.

"Oh, I know. I trained him well, don't you think?"

"Indeed, Patton, but...um," Thomas giggled as Logan tried to lift his arms out of the vice grip around him. "How do I un-train him? I do need to work at some point this evening."

"That will do, Thomas; give Uncle Lo some breathing room."

At Roman's word, Thomas let go and moved to his father's side. Logan's moment of reprieve was short lived as Patton replaced their son, pulling their old friend close and whispering in his ear.

"I really missed you, Logan."

"I..." For a moment, he was lost for words before mimicking the tight grip around his friend. "I missed you too."

  The group remained in the entry as Patton began rattling off things Thomas could and couldn't do. Though he listened intently, Logan's eyes kept shifting to the young boy in the pink jacket that lent against Roman; holding onto his father’s arms around his neck and smiling up at Logan.

".... And if you need anything, just call me and I'll come right back and-"

"Calm down, Pat." Roman interjected, "We're just going for a few hours. I'm sure Lo and Thomas will be fine."

"Right. You're right."

"I always am." "That's not true, Dad." Thomas turned to look up at his father in confusion. "We were late to the airport because you got the times wrong, and you brought the wrong chocolate milk last week, and you-"

"Alright, that's enough." Roman was quick to scoop the boy up and headed inside. "Let's get you set up, hey."

A smile crept across Logan's face as he watched them go.

"Is that a genuine smile I see, Logan?" It comforted Patton to see him looking so content, despite his obvious fear of being responsible for Thomas.

"I'm proud of you, Patton." Their eyes widened as Logan turned; his own shining in the sun light. "You made the family you always wanted." "Almost," they laughed. "It's just missing one thing." "Hm?" Brows furrowing in confusion, Logan wracked his brain for what Patton was talking about. "What could you possibly be missing?"

"Just an uncle to teach Thomas about computers and another to show him how to cook. Any idea on where I could find them?"

"I think I do, but they live pretty far away." "That's okay, we're moving anyway." "What?" Logan was genuinely shocked by the news, mouth left ajar as Roman came up from behind and place a hand on his shoulder.

"You ready to be a full-time uncle, Logan?"

 The question left Logan reeling. Three years ago, Patton left their teaching position to follow Roman's quest for recognition in music and theatre; leaving Logan and Virgil behind in the process. One year ago, they adopted Thomas and their contact became almost non-existent; so to be told they were returning to include him and Virgil in their family...was amazing.

 "I suppose I'll have to be."

This time, Logan initiated a group hug; wrapping an arm around each of his friends and briefly forgetting that they had somewhere to be and he had a job to do.

"Jeez Specs, Thomas rubbed off on you quickly." Roman joked; causing Logan to quickly step back and adjust his tie.  

"Ah, yes, sorry." Logan stumbled over his words, causing his friends to laugh at his sudden display of affection. "I got a little carried away." "It's okay, Lo." Patton assured, waving at the little figure that was poking his head over the couch inside. "But we should get going or we'll never leave."

"Right. Yes. Of Course."

 Logan watched as Patton blew a kiss to Thomas before heading down the front path with Roman. Once the car had pulled away, he shut the door and turned to the smiling figure kneeling on the couch, waiting patiently. Brown eyes looked expectantly at him and he thought about Patton's wish for uncles for their son.

 "So… Thomas. Have you ever made pasta before?" The boy shook his head and slipped off the couch as Logan held his hand out. "Perhaps it's time uncle Logan taught you then."

 *************************

 When Virgil came home, he was shocked to find the apartment lit only by Steven Universe playing on the TV. Tiptoeing around the couch he was greeted to the scene of Logan fast asleep with Thomas laying on his chest. It didn't look comfortable at all, but Virgil had to admit it was an adorable thing to come home to.

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Tags: @thequeensphinx

What else have I done:

The Shield to your Sword (WIP - A fantasy/magic au - Prinxiety (Royal Roman and orphan Virgil - they’ll admit to their love eventually), Virgil angst, non binary healer Logan, *spoiler* Patton, cursed Deceit and ridiculous Remus)

Libraries are for Meetings (ongoing WIP - Human/University au with Royality and developing Analogical. Slow burn and heavily focused on a grieving group of friends that Virgil slowly becomes a part of to better himself.)

And more....

Writing Master Post

Check out my other blog for random fandom reblogs and stuff @snail-giggles

[utopianvoices]

dating au | p.seonghwa

⤗ check my masterlist for other members!

how he acts around you

the “i’m rly smooth around you but dies when you’re not around” kind

the biggest flirt

will throw you pick up lines for every. single. situation

you trip over something?

“woah watch out... we don’t want you falling for anything else but me.”

you’re sharpening your pencil?

“life without you is like that pencil... pointless.”

basically anything you do, he’s got a pick up line for that

he does it so excessively that instead of showing you signs that he likes you, you just start to think that he does that with everyone else

and that you are no special

reader you aren’t the brightest crayon

the members definitely know what’s up tho

will threaten it out of him

“we’ll thrash the whole dorm if you don’t speak up right now.”

“the dorm already looks thrashed you’re not making a difference.”

but this isn’t about sassy seonghwa

this is about his crush on you

whenever you’re around, you’ll realise that they tease seonghwa and you every time he says something cheesy to you

you weren’t very good at reading people but you knew when someone was uncomfortable

no you don’t

and seonghwa looked uncomfortable when the members were teasing the both of you

but that’s just because he was scared you’d find out

so you took the liberty to clear the air

“guys stop that. seonghwa and i don’t like each other in that way.”

well ouch....... you just broke this big baby’s heart

how he confesses

after you broke his heart

he’ll be convinced that you had no feelings for him

and will stop with all the cheesy pick up lines

the whole atmosphere shifts 180 between the both of you

it gets really awkward when you both are in the same room that the members have literally gotten up and left because they couldn’t stand it

at first you thought that it was because he was stressed about something

but when it didn’t stop and just grew more and more awkward, you’d confront him about it

asking him if you did anything wrong for him to act so weird around you

and he spills the beans

literally

he was holding a can of beans to prepare for dinner and dropped the whole can when you asked him that question

rip beans

he just stares at the spilled beans and lets out a sigh, contemplating if he should tell you why he was acting so weird around you

you take a step closer to him, giving him the push he needed to say it

“i actually really like you. and after you said you didn’t have feelings for me i just thought that i should keep my distance.” 

let’s just pause right there

and rewind a little bit

he likes you? and your dumbass thought you were helping him by pretending you didn’t have feelings for him so that it wouldn’t get weird

so you tell him just that

“i-i like you too. i just thought the boys teasing us together was making you uncomfortable so i told them that to shut them up.”

he immediately whips his head up and you can see the smile slowly spreading on his face

it’s the cutest you’ve ever seen him tbh

probably just beams at you until someone shouts at him to clean up the beans because it was going to attract roaches and they didn’t want mingi to start screaming

first date

most probably a fancy dinner

at a fancy ass restaurant

my boy here is a whole ass gentleman

with top class manners

holds the door open for you when you enter the restaurant, pulls out your chair for you, helps you with your napkin

just marry him 

during dinner you’ll have such a great time together, talking about the posh people around you

at one point, you let out a loud laugh because of something seonghwa said, attracting rich glares from all the high-class snobs there, causing the both of you to laugh harder

after dinner, the both of you leave the restaurant and go to a nearby local shop for dessert, because he had just emptied his wallet for that meal and wasn’t going to spend another $10 on a tiny lava cake that wouldn’t be enough for even one of you

you both get ice cream and sit out in the open, carefree laughs filling the air as you exchange jokes and stories

once you’re done, he walks you home, shrugging the jacket off his shoulder to wrap it around you because it would be a sin to leave out that classic first date move

walks you all the way to the door and just stands outside with you, none of you wanting to leave each other

which leads me to my next long-awaited point

first kiss

definitely planned it

he even made a small chart of the whole date while he was still back in the dorm

so there you were, standing in front of him looking cute af, waiting for him to say something

and he does

“can i kiss you?”

will not do it if you’re not ready for it

but who wouldn’t be ready

so you shyly take a step forward, indicating your positive reply, and he takes it as his cue to do what he’s been wanting to do the whole night

wraps his arms around you and slowly leans in, giving you the softest and sweetest kiss ever

your hands softly grip the front of his shirt as one of his hands moves up to cup your cheeks, his touch as light as a feather

when you part, the first thing that comes out of his mouth is “wow”, causing you to giggle shyly

and boy oh boy did his heart do a thousand flips at that sound

gives you a small kiss on your forehead before sending you in, not leaving until he’s sure you’re safe inside

it was one of the best days he’s had and 10/10 would do it again

first fight

this was the most difficult to write

because fights can happen anytime and anywhere because of anything

but one of the first few fights you’d have is probably because of seonghwa’s tidiness 

you would have had a terrible day, and all you wanted to do was go home and sleep

but that wasn’t really possible because of seonghwa’s nagging, telling you to clean the place or do the dishes or wtv you were supposed to do

on normal days you’d just whine and get up and do it

but that day wasn’t a normal day

so you snapped, and it wasn’t pretty

you probably end up saying something hurtful 

and he’d definitely be shocked at first, not expecting you to snap

slowly, as he goes over your words, the hurt seeps in and he leaves the room without arguing back because he knows it’s only going to make things worse

you definitely regret what you said right after you say it, but you give yourself some time to collect yourself before you head out of the bedroom to find your boyfriend

you find him sitting on the sofa, staring blankly at the tv

and oh boy do you feel guilty

scared that you’d be overriding his space, you sit down a safe distance away from him, fumbling with your fingers as you think of what to say

finally you just decide to keep it simple and tell him what went wrong and why you were being so mean

all while reinstating the fact that none of it was his fault and that you were to blame completely

maybe you shed a few tears while talking

seeing this, he just sighs and pulls you towards him, wrapping his arms around you while whispering a soft “it’s okay baby”

and maybe you cried more hearing that

because your man had a heart made of gold

you’d probably have to do the chores for the rest of the week as punishment though

favourite things to do together

he’d love love LOVE to build figurines with you

his gundam figurines

to him, it’s the perfect way to bond

his favourite is the petty arguments you both have over which way is the correct way to assemble it

when there’s a whole instruction sheet lying right next to y’all screaming “read me crackheads”

but where’s the fun in following instructions

he’d probably give in to your way, just watching as you happily try to assemble the figurine, frowning once you realise the you were in the wrong the whole time and that seonghwa was right

you’d never admit it though

“actually maybe we should just do it your way, since i’m feeling a bit generous today.”

plays along with you and you both finally finish assembling it

what takes usually an hour, takes at least three hours when it’s you both assembling it together

because y’all are always distracted

petty arguments over who’s right

and many many many stolen kisses

general affection

wouldn’t usually initiate cuddles but will never reject them 

if u wanna cuddle then he was gonna cuddle the fuk out of you

you’d come back and just fall on him if he was laying on the sofa

or if he was in the kitchen, you’d just walk over and slump against his back, wrapping your arms around his waist

if you were already lying down, his arms will be around you, while your head rested on his chest, the both of you talking about your respective days

if you were to back hug him, he’d turn around in your arms and give you a soft forehead kiss that usually says “i’m busy right now but i’ll cuddle you later”

is honestly more of a kisser than hugger

keeps pda to a minimum—nothing more than a hand on your waist in public or in front of the members

but in private, damn

doesn’t know the meaning of the words ‘personal’ and ‘space’

will randomly kiss you

you could be walking past him and he’ll just pull you in and give you a quick kiss and pretend like nothing happened

i feel like he’ll be a very passionate kisser

other than pecks, when he’s really kissing you, definitely puts in as much emotion as he can

ᶜᵃⁿ ᵇᵉ ʳᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰ

definitely the type to combat jealousy by making out

talking about jealousy

gets jealous very easily

not that he doesn’t trust you, but he just doesn’t like the idea of others thinking of you in ways that only he should be thinking 

other than the members, any other guy you talk to gets the stank face from him

unless they’ve earned a pass, which is pretty rare

but if he still ends up being jealous, you better prepare yourself to be attacked with kisses when you’re home

ᵐᶦᵍʰᵗ ˡᵉᵃᵈ ᵗᵒ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗʰᶦⁿᵍ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ʷᵉ'ˡˡ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵏⁿᵒʷ

[shih-coulda-had-it]

trained by the best

Summary: Gran Torino is hired by the Hero Public Safety Commission to train Keigo Takami, boy wonder. Canon!AU. [Illustration included.]

.

.

.

“Torino-san?”

He blinked once, then again, like he could rid himself of this prim and proper lady standing at his doorstep. Sorahiko scrubbed his face with a rough hand and felt the stubble prickle his palm. So much for self-care. He eyed her with wariness. No one in a blazer had charitable intentions. Leaning into the old-timer’s growl, Sorahiko parried with, “Who needs him?”

She wasn’t having his shit. “The Hero Public Safety Commission.”

His hackles rose. “I don’t do that kind of work.”

“You misunderstand our initiative,” she said coldly, “but that is of no matter. Please welcome me in.”

Sorahiko bared his teeth in a semblance of a grin. “Welcome to my home,” he answered, and stepped aside. “Get to the point, before I have to offer you snacks and drinks.”

The lady gave his ramshackle apartment a disparaging onceover, and conceded. She untucked a manila folder from under her arm, and cleared her throat. “Torino Sorahiko. Pro Hero, Gran Torino. You were part of a government operation to take in All for One with your partner—”

“Get to the point,” he repeated.

She glared. “You’re one of the fastest pro heroes in Japan, and yet you’ve never been noticed by the public record. You once taught at U.A., but quit after a year. If it wasn’t for a footnote on the All for One operation, we wouldn’t even be aware of your skills.”

He maintained his poker face, but inwardly cursed at whoever kept the file. Sorahiko had stayed under the radar for a reason. Mostly because he hated the media, and the task of cultivating a reputation. He’d left that nonsense to Nana, who hadn’t actually liked it any better.

“I like my quiet life,” Sorahiko pronounced, folding his arms together. “You haven’t gotten to your point.”

“We’re looking to hire a combat tutor,” she grinded out. “Someone skilled in fighting at incredible speeds, and who wouldn’t be averse to being missing from the public eye. That’s you.”

“No one likes how I teach.”

“Statistics show that the one year you taught at U.A., the graduating students had more success in navigating their first tests in battle. The school attributes this to you.” The lady closed the file. “That’s what we’re asking of you. One year. More, if your teaching bears productive results.”

Sorahiko suspected some trickery. “Who would I be teaching? A class?”

“One boy,” she said, and it was like hearing Nana’s last words to him all over again. Sorahiko felt the ports on his legs hiss, and reflexively inhaled. “He’s quite young, but brimming with potential. Saved a family from a car crash at the age of six.”

“... And how old is he now?”

The lady lifted her chin. “Ten.”

“That’s too young.” It was an instinctive objection of sorts, born out of observing Toshinori’s terrible battle instincts and having to beat some sense into his class before they graduated. Sorahiko didn’t teach kindly. The memories of his spars with Toshinori sometimes riddled him with guilt; the idea of training a ten year old child the same way would probably cause Nana to rise from the grave and murder him. A different thought occurred to him. “Where’s his family?”

Not dead, he willed.

“They’re being handsomely compensated,” she answered. “He came from a low-income family, and needed attention he could not get otherwise.” The lady cocked her head. “And now, he needs training in combat that we cannot adequately provide without your help.”

“I can say no.”

“And we would find a second-best option.” He could feel his face twitch. “The boy will be trained. All that remains to be decided is by whom, and how well.”

“Might,” Sorahiko said with as much venom as was polite, “I have the name of the boy, and the location where we’ll be training?”

Her smile was cold too. Victory to the government offshoot. “You will refer to me as Miura. Your charge is Keigo Takami. He’ll be operating under the name of Hawks.” With a quick, graceful motion, she offered the folder; Sorahiko took it. “The training facilities are there. Report to the first one by this Monday, 0800 hours. Be prepared to give a verbal assessment of his skills.”

//

“Keigo-kun,” said Miura with a degree of warmth Sorahiko had previously not associated with her. “This is your new tutor. Call him Torino-sensei, okay?”

“Okay,” the kid replied quietly. His round face was entirely too serious for ten years old, and it made Sorahiko want to back out of the job. The Commission was grooming the kid to be a pro hero.

He’d be a striking figure. There was a charm to the kid’s scarlet red wings, the feathery quality of his dirty-blond hair, the black markings highlighting his avian nature. Keigo Takami met Sorahiko’s gaze with the most unimpressed expression a child had ever leveled in his direction.

Looks like they’ve done a number on you, kid, Sorahiko thought. Aloud, he said, “I hear you can move.”

Miura withdrew silently; the door hissed shut behind her. There was a viewing deck for this off-white cushioned room, but Sorahiko chose not to glance at it, preferring to see whether or not he could tease some life back into the kid’s deadened gaze.

“I can.”

“You warmed up?”

“I have.”

Geez. Like pulling teeth. Sorahiko idly tugged at his gloves. “Alright then. We’re gonna play a game of tag.” The kid’s eyes brightened, and his posture actually straightened even further with interest. “I’ll be it for three minutes. Every tap I get on you is a lap around the building perimeter. Ready?”

Tiny scarlet wings flared out in preparation. “Ready,” the kid echoed, and Sorahiko pulled out his stopwatch and showily held it up. At the click, Sorahiko jetted straight up to the ceiling and let the timer fall; Takami startled backwards at the rush of expelled air, and made eye contact just as Sorahiko kicked off and headed straight for him.

He kept it playful. The kid was fast, true, but he hadn’t yet learned to operate in a three-dimensional environment. Nana had dragged him, however reluctantly, through numerous games of Quirk tag. Takami was still young, and isolated to boot.

“Keep moving,” he advised on a pass, and Takami whirled around, too late to catch sight of him. He was caught up in the spin, so much so that Sorahiko was able to ricochet and pass by again to flick him on the shoulder.

At the end of three minutes, Takami was leaning on his knees and gasping for breath. Sorahiko… wasn’t unimpressed. He had expected a lot worse; if Toshinori and his class were evidence, the notion of constant movement wasn’t a universally-ingrained instinct. That Takami had eventually started darting and zigzagging in a desperate maneuver to avoid Sorahiko’s path spoke well of his battle instincts; Toshinori’s unfortunate go-to strategy of standing rooted to the ground had taken a number of beatings to unlearn.

“Ten taps,” said Sorahiko mildly, crouching down to meet Takami’s eyes. There was much more intrigue than earlier; respect had been earned, and not even grudgingly. “You did better than expected, kid.”

Takami’s eyes fairly sparkled. “I did?” he asked, almost shy.

“Yeah. You’ve already got the idea that moving should be your first strategy.” Sorahiko gestured at the wings, now marshaled back into a neat fold. “Give it a few years till your growth spurt, and you’ll be faster than me. Till then...” He tapped the kid’s nose. Kid went cross-eyed. “That’s eleven. If you use your wings, up it to fifteen.”

Takami vibrated in place. “Torino-sensei!” he complained, and looked surprised that he could whine.

Sorahiko finally glanced up at the viewing deck. A group of suits gazed imposingly down; the door hissed open. He creaked back up, and nodded at the kid. “Bully someone to chaperone you. Say I told you the laps are homework,” he advised, and Sorahiko turned to see Miura’s triumphant expression. “Miura-san.”

“Torino-san,” she returned. “Cutting your tutoring session short?”

“Sparring for an hour isn’t an option for now—” Sorahiko stopped, feeling something tug at his cape. He looked back and barely managed to see the tiny hand release the yellow fabric, the flash of guilt and self-reproach. “... A short intermission. However long our conversation lasts. Then I’ll do another round with him.”

“Very good,” Miura said patronizingly. “Keigo-kun—”

“I need a watcher,” the kid piped up, and Sorahiko was treated to the vindictive pleasure of seeing Miura get caught off-guard. “I have homework, and I want to finish it before the second round.”

“Homework?”

“Running eleven laps around the building,” he recited. “Or flying fifteen.”

“Running laps. How nice,” she said, and nice sounded awfully like quaint. Sorahiko wasn’t looking forward to the debriefing. It wouldn’t just be a performance review of a ten year old’s skills; it’d be the Commission deciding whether or not he was worth hiring for the year, and the years after. Sorahiko was already constructing a rough syllabus in his head, which was… a lot more than what his students had gotten.

But with them, it had been coming into the year with a plan, and having that plan be utterly annihilated upon first meeting. Combat training had always been self-taught. Experience trumped formal learning, and knowing the ins and outs of your Quirk would always give you an edge over your opponent.

Generalizing had been a huge issue in U.A. He didn’t have the time to personally drag a student through the effort of pushing their Quirk to the limit, and had instead decided the standard curriculum was bullshit, and pitted each class against him.

Twenty-four hours to strategize with each other. Three minutes to beat him. No one left without accumulating a whole collection of bruises, scrapes, and red paint marks. U.A. had eventually asked him to tone down whatever he was doing to wreck the gym facilities.

“Let’s debrief,” Sorahiko prompted, and Miura smiled.

“Sasagawa-san will be here to chaperone you, Keigo-kun,” she told the kid, and switched tones with Sorahiko. “Follow me.”

He followed.

.

.

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[lightningbuggie]

for a prompt could you write a short blackwatch!sombra x blackwatch!mccree? it's an au that i quite like, but i can never find any stories for it. feel free not to though! that's totally fine too

McCree was always hesitant to trust new personnel - a trait that stemmed from his Deadlock days - and today was no exception. He didn’t truly understand the purpose of a ‘hacker’ anyway, he couldn’t imagine hacking was any more resourceful than a gun. Reyes apparently thought it was, considering he personally spent months tracking down the recruit in question, and weeks further convincing her to join Blackwatch. Had McCree been asked, he would have said their team was big enough with the cyborg and the witch, but ultimately Reyes made the call and decided they needed one more. 

They brought her in late after work on a Tuesday night, apparently on her request. McCree couldn’t remember the last time Reyes took someone else’s orders so willingly, but he’d obliged her every demand. None of them were even allowed to be at headquarters during her tour, for her ‘privacy’s’ sake. Neither McCree nor the others were particularly pleased.

The day he finally saw her was a whole two weeks after her initiation. They had just finished a mission briefing in a conference room far too grand for their tiny team, and McCree couldn’t understand why Reyes was sticking around after adjourning - he was normally the first to leave. The cowboy quietly left the room with the others, but hung around by the door, taking one last peek inside once Genji and Dr. O’Deorain were out of sight. Back in the meeting room he witnessed a flash of purple, revealing the vibrantly dressed hacker lounging in a seat he had assumed was empty. He watched as she and Reyes chatted for a moment before shaking hands and heading out different doors. The commander approached the door McCree was standing by and he quickly sidestepped away as the door opened. He wasn’t quick enough to get out of view however, as Reyes barely took one step out the door before his eyes found McCree. 

“Settlin’ in the new recruit?” McCree asked, trying not to sound embarrassed.

Reyes held his gaze for a moment before ignoring the question and walking away with a huff.

Genji actually brought her up first. The two of them were going over some floor plans for a building they were meant to break into, and McCree brought up the concern of security cameras.

The cyborg just shrugged, “I’m sure Sombra can take care of them.”

“Sombra?” 

Genji raised an eyebrow as if he didn’t understand McCree’s confusion, “Our new hacker.”

McCree didn’t realize until that moment that he hadn’t even known her name, “Have you spoken to her?”

“Yes. She offered to help upgrade my cybernetics. She seems capable.”

McCree didn’t know what to make of that. He’d like to think Genji had good insight, but he could hear the Deadlock crew in the back of his mind reminding him to never place anyone else’s judgement above your own.

Moira spoke of her next. McCree had entered her office for a pre-mission checkup, something he often put off as long as possible to avoid leaving himself in the hands of the witch. 

Dr. O’Deorain kept her examinations minimal. McCree seemed healthy enough, but she wasn’t happy with the state of his mechanical arm - as was evident by her constant poking and prodding of the metal.

“I intend to run a few minor tests on this.” She told him, cold and clinical.

“How long’s that gonna take?”

“I’m not certain. Sombra raised some concerns on the matter of remote hacking, though we’ve yet to discuss the process or potential solutions. ”

“Not like you to listen to other people’s suggestions, doc.”

She gave him a pointed look, then raised an arm in the direction of the door. McCree took the cue and left. 

It was two nights later when McCree interacted with her for the first time. It was well past when he should’ve been asleep, but the cowboy was busy sitting in their training room going over floor plans for their upcoming operation. He’d been ignoring the ticking of the training room clock, but the ding signalling midnight was finally enough to send him packing back to his room to get some rest. He only made it as far as the living quarters entrance however, before he was stopped by the sight of a dim purple light seeping through an adjoining hallway. He followed the light to its source, a seemingly unassuming door made special only by the violet glow seeping through its cracks. McCree tried the handle and to his surprise the door opened without issue. 

The room was dark, illuminated only by a series of monitors in varied sizes. Most of the screens displayed coded information, while some showed weapons diagnostics, and the largest presented the floor plan McCree had been pouring over all night. He turned his head to the chair sat in front of the monitors, which seated the infamous hacker as she scrolled through some code on screen 2. 

“Close the door if you’re coming in.” She replied offhandedly in a Spanish accent.

Ah. Spanish. All of a sudden ‘Sombra’ made a lot more sense. He closed the door behind him and stepped into the room. This time he took in the other aspects of the space, noting a couch, full bed, and mini fridge occupying the area behind her desk. Far more lavish than any of the other rooms he’d visited, his especially. 

She spoke up again, “Did you notice the same thing I did?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“The plans.” She pointed a manicured nail at the largest screen. “Gabe’s plan could use some work.”

He’d never heard anyone refer to Reyes as ‘Gabe’ before - she was either too valuable to lose or two minutes from being fired. Ten minutes ago he wouldn’t have been confident guessing which, but now seeing how well Blackwatch was treating her, he had some idea. 

He cleared his throat, “Reyes wants us to infiltrate through the east entrance, but I was thinking-”

“The west is closer to the target, why risk being in there longer than you have to?” She finished. 

Her seat was turned around, finally facing him. Her eyes were a shade of purple so electrically bright he couldn’t help but stare. He’d already noticed her half shaved head from his last sighting, but now he could see the implants lining her skull in perfect clarity. She was like nothing he’d ever seen before. 

“That’s what I figured.” He took a step forward, maintaining eye contact. “I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced.”

“I’ve heard a lot about you, McCree.”

“I can say the same. Everyone’s been talking ‘bout you lately.”

“Am I employee of the month?”

“If the doctor likes you, it’s hard to tell.”

Sombra tossed him a mischievous smirk as she stood up. “Sombra.”

He tipped his hat to her in return. “Shadow, huh?” 

“Si, vaquero.” She looked pleased to know he spoke Spanish. Sombra nodded towards the couch and he took a seat, while she walked over to the mini fridge and began rummaging through it. “I’m going to suggest the west entrance tomorrow, I’d appreciate it if you mentioned it too.”

“Sure. Though Reyes mentioned something about that route being too close to where they house their mechs to be viable.” 

She stood up holding a bottle of rum and two lowball glasses. “Nah, I can deal with that.”

“Oh yeah?” McCree was going to comment that it was quite late for a drink, but watching her crack open a new bottle of fairly pricey alcohol was enough to convince him to stay for one. “How do you plan to do that?”

Rather than answer, Sombra just tossed a glass in his direction. His reflexes were normally lighting quick, but seeing as he was caught off-guard, he was just a second too late to reach for the glass. He didn’t have to worry about it breaking however, as his mechanical arm caught the glass with ease, operating completely out of his control. McCree watched in horror as his arm, now sentient, held the glass still as Sombra waltzed over and poured an ounce of rum into it. 

McCree brought his eyes back to her as she poured her own glass. “How’re you doing that?”

She just smiled and wiggled her fingers, purple light emanating from her nails. “That’s my job.”

“I’m gonna ask ya kindly to give me back control of my arm.” He warned. She did, and McCree almost dropped the glass as he suddenly regained command of the appendage. Thankfully he managed to hold onto it, which was good considering he was going to need a drink after that. “Thank you.”

Sombra took a seat on the coffee table itself, her legs resting inches from his. “That’s how I’ll deal with them. If they try to use the mechs I’ll just shut them down.”

“What if they try the same thing?” He asked, taking a sip of his drink. 

“Yeah I know, I’m working on it. You have it easy, your friend Sparrow is a glowing green target. Too easy to hack.” 

“How does hacking him work? Make him throw the mission?”

“And more. I could make him help the enemy if I wanted to.”

McCree downed his drink and set the glass on the table. “Well here’s hoping you don’t.”

Sombra grabbed McCree’s mechanical arm and pulled it on her lap, causing the cowboy to sit forward and press his shoulder against her as she examined his tech. Her nails glided over the indentations, leaving a comfortable cooling sensation in their tracks. He glanced up to watch her features, her brows furrowed, lost in concentration as she tried to solve a problem he couldn’t see. He had to chuckle at the strange intimacy of the moment, but immediately regretted the action as he watched her focus drop. 

“What?”

“Nothin’, just expected you to be dry and serious, but you’re provin’ me wrong. You this comfortable with everyone you work with?”

She let her voice drop an octave, “Only if I like them,” and followed the words with a shameless wink.

McCree chuckled, “You know, my old partner used to tell me to never trust a pretty face.”

She gave him back his arm and studied his face, “You shouldn’t trust anyone, period.”

“Sounds like a rule straight outta Deadlock.”

“More like Los Muertos.” She stood up, swishing her drink around in its glass. 

McCree followed her. “You were in Los Muertos?”

“Mhm,” she hummed as she sipped her rum, walking him to the door. “But that’s a conversation for Friday.”

“Friday?”

“I have an idea for how to set up a stable firewall for your arm, but I’m gonna need a few days. Same time?”

“You sure you want me coming by so late?”

Her smirk returned full-throttle as she opened the door for him, leaning on the door frame with her drink at her lips. “I’ll see you then, McCree.” 

He tipped his hat to her and headed back down the hallway towards his room, using every ounce of strength to avoid turning back as he heard her door shut behind him. The walk back was quiet and introspective. He could practically hear Ashe screaming in the back of his head to be more cautious, but nonetheless as his eyes scanned the ground beneath his feet, watching the light fade with every step, he knew his dreams would be basked in a purple glow.

[you-guys--are-losers]

Spideychelle Week: Day Six!

//Second to last day, fam! Thanks to @spideychelleweek for the week of incredible creativity and stepping out of our comfort zones, because I was initially nervous about writing this and now I am SO ready. You guys down for this crap? Because guess what: today is College AU day! 

I wrote one of these before, but we’re gonna try another, and I’m going to use a prompt this time! I’m using a prompt from @veronicabunchwrites again, and this time it’s from their lovely list of college aus!

So, the prompt I’m using is this: “I post an ad looking for someone to be my model for my art project and the interviewing process has been a little awkward until you answer it.” I changed it a bit, just because I’m not comfortable writing someone fully nude, but that doesn’t mean we can’t do a little bit of spicy writing. ;)

Summary: MJ is having a hard time finding a model, so when Peter Parker volunteers to do it for her, MJ is extremely grateful. She’s known him since they went to high school together, so it shouldn’t be too hard, right? 

But as soon as MJ sees those abs, she realizes that nothing about this is going to be easy for her. 

Characters: Michelle Jones x Peter Parker

Word Count: 4,399

Warnings: Sexual tension, college-age stupidity, nervous quips, partial nudity

Sculpted

Screw this,” MJ mutters, shoving her phone away from her and leaning her head back on their couch with a groan.

One of her hands rises to her forehead, shoving her hair back from her face in a frustrated movement as she closes her eyes. “I’m dropping out of art school. I guess I’m gonna have to settle for the lame shit you losers are doing.” 

“You mean computer programming?” Ned hums from the futon across their apartment, not looking up from his laptop. “Yeah, sounds reasonable. I mean, it’s kind of a fallback, major, but, y’know…”

“We both know that after some of the modifications I made to the Bugsuit, I would have no problem getting a scholarship,” MJ points out, still not opening her eyes. In any other setting, with any other group of people, she knows it would sound conceited. But her loser roommates know that she’s screwing with them, and more importantly, they know she’s right. 

“What is it this time?” Peter pipes up, and MJ’s eyes open as he returns from the kitchen with the industrial-sized bag of gummy worms they’ve been working on for a week. “Shading? Digital perspectives? Visualizing a room layout?” He plops down on the other end of the couch, swiping the remote from between them and quickly switching the show from the later seasons of Parks and Rec to The Office. It’s been a running feud between roommates the past few weeks, but MJ is too irritated with her work to even acknowledge it tonight. 

“No,” MJ responds morosely, leaning across the couch to steal a few of the sour, sugary gummies from the bag before she settles back in to explain. “It’s not even the art. It’s the prep, which is not the part I was expecting to have trouble with.” 

“What are you working on?” Ned asks, eyes seizing upon Creed and Meredith as he asks the question. “Is it another of those digital ones? I like those.” 

“No, this one’s an oil painting,” MJ answers, leaning her head on the armrest as she allows herself to sink into the show. “But it’s supposed to be a figure drawing partially in the nude, and-”

Ned’s eyes widen across the room, and a strangled cough of alarm escapes his throat as he whirls to look at her. MJ doesn’t have to look across the couch to know Peter is doing the same-- the sound of the gummy worm bag dropping to the floor more than confirms it for her. 

“It’s just a waist-up of a male model, you testosterone-fuelled monkeys,” MJ remarks simply, taking advantage of the moment to steal the remote Peter has just set down. The two stop staring at her like she has just sprouted another set of arms as she switches the show to Parks and Rec again, and Ned lets out a slow whistle in relief. “Well, if I could find one, anyway.” 

“What do you mean?” Peter says slowly. 

MJ lets out a puff of air through her nose as she settles down again, allowing the beautiful sight of Amy Poehler in a lime-green pantsuit to relax her. Yes… That’s better. Leslie Knope is all that MJ will ever need to calm down. 

“I can’t get anyone to pose for me,” she replies after a moment, letting her eyes close again as she explains. “I need someone with fairly defined chest muscles, since we’re supposed to be working on the shading of human muscle. You’d think it would be easy to find someone with all of the guys I see in the gym every morning, so I put up an ad on the bulletin board asking if anyone was interested.” 

“Oh, yeah, I think I saw that,” Ned says slowly. “Betty pointed it out on the way back from pilates.” 

“You’re doing pilates with Betty?” Peter asks incredulously. “Dude, I don’t even know what that is.” 

“Pilates is what you do when you love someone,” Ned replies sagely, causing MJ to let out a soft groan. 

“Gross,” she comments. “I’d think that you’d be fine without the gym, considering the amount of tonsil tennis you two play. You’re practically Serena and Venus.” 

Peter draws in a sharp breath, and a sudden outburst of coughing fit ensues as Peter nearly inhales a gummy worm. Between the sounds of their best friend hacking up a lung, Ned’s eyes narrow, and he shoots her a look. “Continue with your story about how you’re trying to get a guy half-naked, then.” 

“Gladly.” 

After Peter is no longer in danger of asphyxiating, MJ lays out her dilemma. “The problem is that I can’t get anyone who’s serious about it. All of the messages I’ve been getting have been assholes who think I’m looking for a hookup. Please… Like this is some high schooler’s YA story.” 

“I mean, it does sound kind of sexual,” Ned points out. “I think the words ‘nude model’ will do that for you, even if it’s just above the waist.”

Peter lets out a final sigh as he catches his breath, closing the bag of gummy worms. MJ tries to feel bad that she may have killed his gummy worm craving for the evening, but really, she’s just glad there’s more left for her. She’s expecting him to make some comment about how none of them checked to see if he would be okay, and she is already preparing her comeback (“Please, Parker. We know we don’t have to worry about your super-esophagus.”) when he says something that catches her completely off-guard.

“I mean… I could do it.” 

MJ’s eyes fly open, and both MJ and Ned turn to him in shock. Peter’s eyes widen as he finds himself the object of both of their attention at once, and he raises his hands defensively. “What?” he stammers. “I’ve got muscles!” 

“I know,” Ned says, speaking up before MJ has to, “but that’s just… Weird. I think MJ wants to draw, like, a statue-bod kinda guy.” 

Peter’s cheeks heat up, and he looks slightly miffed now. “I can lift a bus, in case you forgot,” he points out, his tone slightly flustered. “And-and I held a ferry boat together.” 

“For, like, two seconds,” Ned muses. 

Before Peter can fire back, however, the unthinkable word drops from MJ’s lips: 

“Okay.” 

Both of them turn to her this time, and now she is the focus of shocked attention. Her cheeks heat up, and MJ turns to the TV, fixing her eyes on the screen and praying they take it for nonchalance.

“What did you just say?” Ned stammers. 

“I said he can do it,” MJ replies, forcing any breathiness out of her voice. “This thing is due in two weeks, I need a model yesterday. And if I don’t have to deal with guys sliding into my DMs and getting my hopes up, that’s a bonus.” 

For a minute, things are quiet. Then, finally, Peter says, “Okay. When do we start?” 

MJ glances away from the TV and makes eye contact with Peter, trying not to notice his bright red ears and the slight catch in his voice. For a minute, she nearly forgets to answer his question. “You can show up to the studios on Friday at four, if that works. Um, unless it doesn’t. I could also do Saturday, or Sunday… Or, um, Monday, right. Because that’s what comes next-” 

“No, uh, Friday works,” Peter interrupts, running a hand through his hair. They both look away at the same time, and for a second silence stretches out as they vehemently avoid looking at one another. MJ tries to focus on the beautiful goddess that is Leslie Knope, but after about thirty seconds she finally gets up. 

“I’m gonna head to bed early,” she decides, not looking at either of them as she chucks the remote at Ned. It narrowly misses his head, and Ned fumbles with it for a moment before catching it. This gives MJ the time she needs to make a quick exit, and then her bedroom door shuts behind her, and she is alone. 

In the dim light of her room, MJ quickly changes into a pair of sweats and a loose t-shirt, trying not to think about what just happened. Nothing happened, she reminds herself as she slides under the covers of her bed, shoving her head onto her pillow. I have a model. That’s it. 

It’s not weird; it shouldn’t be. They’ve been friends since high school, and MJ has seen him in that stupid suit enough times to know that his muscles are developed. It’s not anything uncomfortable. 

But still, the voice in her head whispers, you’ve never had to focus exclusively on the abs. And the pecs. And the obliques, and the- MJ shuts that train of thought down with a frustrated groan. 

Whatever. Peter is attractive; she’s known that since high school. It’s not new, and it’s not weird to admit it. It would be weirder if she denied it. She’s not blind; I mean, she’d expect him to admit she’s attractive, too, because she knows she is. It’s just objective truth. 

Why, then, does the idea of him admitting that fill her with tingly warmth? 

No, nope. Bed. It’s bedtime. MJ repeats it over and over again in her head, Bed time, bed time, for the better part of ten minutes. 

When she finally falls asleep, MJ dreams of brush strokes and blending and oil paint sliding across her skin, of painting on a canvas of freckles and stretch marks and dimples as fingers massage pigment into the contours of her body, making it permanent. 

-

Friday comes with a vengeance, seeming to hurtle into existence a million times faster than any day has before. 

It probably helps that, over the course of the week, MJ forces herself to think of anything but Friday. She focuses herself on schoolwork, social life, and her two best friends, who luckily make everything return to normal the morning after the decision has been made. 

The project fades into Ned’s distant memory, and Peter doesn’t bring it up at all over the course of the week’s antics. In fact, with how little they even mention school, MJ wouldn’t have been surprised if Peter forgets to even show up. 

But, sure enough, 2:00 finds MJ in her favorite studio in the building, and 2:03 brings Peter Parker into the room. He finds MJ there, with a canvas on an easel, setting up her paints and her pallet. Across from the canvas is an old sofa, something that she found in the back of the studio and figured would serve their purposes. The windows of the studio are open to let in natural light, and the sofa is positioned beneath a skylight in a way that will allow her to paint him with lighting from the angle she wants. 

“Um, hi,” he greets her, offering her a grin. The smile relaxes MJ because it is familiar. It is dorky and earnest and slightly sheepish, and all of those things are so Peter that she knows this will be alright. 

“‘Sup, loser,” she greets, nodding in his direction before returning to her pallet. She’s wearing old painting clothes, and her hair is pulled back into a messy sort of ponytail that will keep it out of her face while she works. She has a habit of getting herself a little bit streaked with paint when she’s not paying attention, and it’s a pain to get out of her hair. 

Peter begins to walk around the room, studying the various tools and the setup. MJ has to keep herself from subtly observing him as he does it, even though she wants to take in the endearing wonder written on his face. 

“This place is cool,” he comments, his voice relaxed and curious as he studies a posing chart hanging on the wall behind her. “Do you come here a lot?” 

“For most of my projects, yeah,” MJ hums. “It’s my favorite studio, so I may or may not have started a rumor that someone died in here so it’s always available.” 

Peter snorts in amusement behind her, and though MJ isn’t looking, she can’t keep away a grin now. “Why didn’t you ask the ghost to pose for you?” he asks. 

“Well, it was an axe murder, so that might be a bit messy.” 

Peter laughs for real this time, and then for a moment, they lapse into a comfortable silence. Peter watches as MJ begins mixing her highlight, and then he queries, “So… How do you wanna do this?” 

MJ is careful to control her urge to stiffen. Right… This is why they’re both here. It’s no big deal. 

“Um, right,” she breathes, glancing at him for a moment before returning to the pallet. “So you can, uh, take your shirt off.” 

“You’re not gonna buy me dinner first?” Peter jokes. His cheeks are pink, however, and his voice is slightly constricted as he pulls his shirt off, and MJ hears the fabric drop to the floor. It takes all of the self-control in her body to refrain from looking. 

“Nah, not unless you want the cold paella in my bag,” she hums. “I think it’s from, like, yesterday.” 

“I’ll pass,” Peter comments, and MJ grins. For a second, she forgets about her situation and looks up. 

Craaaaap. 

To preface: MJ knew that Peter was kind of jacked. She has seen the muscles through the suit before, has seen them in action on Youtube videos, whatever. She is supposed to be prepared. 

She is most certainly not. Nothing could prepare her for this. 

Her eyes find it immediately: Peter Parker’s muscular chest, standing before her in all its glory. His jeans ride slightly low on his hips, meaning that the ‘v’ of his abdomen is what catches her eye first, more defined than it was on any of the example sketches. She hurriedly drags her eyes away from that, up higher, but that isn’t any better. If she looks there, she has to focus on the clearly defined abs that are staring her in the face, begging her to touch them to see if they’re as firm as they look. It doesn’t get any less defined as her eyes travel up his body, to defined pecs and muscular arms that cause her to swallow, quickly looking anywhere else. 

Finally, her eyes find his face. Peter’s cheeks are pink, but his gaze is awfully intense as it meets her own, causing her heart to pound faster than it already was. 

“I- Uh- Um, right,” MJ stammers, forcing her eyes to give him a quick once-over as if she was only examining them from an artistic standpoint. “Alright. Yep, that’ll do.” In her own ears, her voice sounds an octave too high as she begins to mix the colors on the pallet, not looking up. “You can, uh, sit on the couch, I’ll tell you how to position yourself-” 

“MJ.” 

Peter’s voice interrupts her, and MJ can barely breathe as she looks up. When she does, he’s grinning sheepishly. “Shouldn’t I get oiled up first?” 

It’s a bad joke, but it causes MJ to laugh anyway. She’s grateful to think about something, anything other than the muscles that seem to be calling her name, the ones she’s somehow going to have to depict without being blinded by all of their splendor.

“Shut up, loser,” she instructs as she continues mixing. “If you keep talking, I’m gonna charge you a commission fee.”

“I’m the one doing this for you,” he points out playfully as he takes a seat on the sofa. “It’s not like I want to hang this in my room.” 

“Why not? It’ll be a tasteful layout. We’ll do some pin-up poses.” MJ examines him, and for a moment, she thinks maybe she can do this. “Alright. I want you to turn a little to your right, but keep your legs straight. Then flex for me.” She’s got this. 

Peter obeys her, and MJ’s blood rushes to her head. 

Nope. Nope. She does not got this. 

After he’s in place, MJ busies herself with getting music playing on her phone. She needs something, anything to occupy her mind as she does this. “Sunflower” by Post Malone starts playing, and almost immediately, MJ relaxes. She looks up, and this time, she manages to keep her cool as she studies the shade of his skin tone. Sure, she’s never gonna be able to unsee this, but for now, she can do it. 

After she’s mixed the paint, they settle into a rhythm, and then MJ loses herself in the work. She is completely focused on the art: the colors, the blending, the highlights, how she wants to do the shadow. Each stroke is precise, intentional… Everything is exactly where she wants it, and every step is clear to her. 

Sure, the muscles are rather lovely. But as long as she steels herself before looking up, she manages to keep herself from drooling over them for as long as it takes her to make a quick assessment and return to the work. 

The muscles are a new variable, something she hasn’t had to battle with before. But the work? The work she knows, the work she understands. Its beat is one she has heard a million times, and it carries her along with ease. 

An hour or so passes, with the silence stretching on comfortably. Every so often, Peter warns her that he has a muscle cramp, and MJ watches carefully so that she can guide him back to the position after he’s adjusted a bit. Peter is a good model. Sure, he has to move a bit more than most of the people they’ve painted in studies, but he also doesn’t complain. He just follows her direction, letting his eyes wander the room or sometimes close as he soaks in the sun. 

And, every so often, MJ wonders if she can feel those eyes on her. 

It’s about half an hour in when MJ looks up from her canvas, really looks, for the first time since she posed him. There are flecks of paint all over her fingers and upper arm from where she carefully used a nail to remove an excess of pain, or just from when she forgot about the pallet in her hand while adjusting the canvas and supplies as the light changed. Her hair is determined to escape from her ponytail, it seems, and it hovers on the edge of her vision in several curly tendrils that she ignores. She knows she makes faces while she’s concentrating, and between the paint on her clothes, hands, and a spot by her temple where she brushed away some hair, the stiffness of her body and neck, and the mess of her hair, MJ knows she looks disheveled. 

That’s why, when she looks up and find him studying her like he’s been studying the beautiful prints of art on the walls, she stops still. 

His eyes, when they meet hers, hold the warmth that makes them Peter’s, but they also hold something else. Whatever it is in insistent, piercing as it works its way to her through their shared gaze, and penetrating as it seems to search her from head to toe. 

Whatever it is takes her breath away. 

MJ draws in a sharp breath, and her sudden change of posture causes Peter to stiffen, too. His eyes go wide upon the realization that he has been caught staring. However, he doesn’t look away. After balking for a moment, his gaze actually becomes more intense, almost as though he is determined to prove himself. 

MJ sets down her brush, and Peter’s eyes track her motion expectantly as she turns to look back at him again. 

“Peter,” she finally says, her tone tight and controlled. 

“Yeah?” Something earnest enters his eyes, then his voice, too, as he waits for her to respond. 

“You moved.” 

When he realizes what she means, his face falls for a fraction of a second before he becomes composed again. “O-oh, right. Um, let me just-” He attempts to take up his former position, and MJ busies herself comparing it with the likeness on canvas in order to ignore the warmth in her cheeks. After looking from his position, to the painting, and then back to him again, MJ shakes her had. 

“Not quite,” she says slowly. “You need to twist more at the waist.” 

Peter attempts to angle his body more to the side, but he still is twisting his upper body more than his lower body. MJ watches, then shakes her head again, biting her lip. “Nah, it’s more-- here.” 

MJ sets her pallet on the floor and strides over to the sofa. She is painfully, painfully aware of the amount of Peter’s bare skin in front of her, bright in the golden sun, but she struggles to ignore it as she sits on the ground in front of him and raises her hand to hover in front of his abs. 

“You need to twist more here,” she says, gesturing to the muscles. 

He’s already moving, however, so rather than her gesture hovering in front of him, her loose hand crashes into his muscles. MJ’s eyes widen as her the palm of her hand presses against his lower abdomen, and her whole body stiffens for a moment before she can register that she should pull back. The muscles are warm beneath her fingertips, solid and firmer than she could have imagined. 

“MJ-” 

She pulls her hand back immediately, but a sinking feeling enters her chest as she realizes what happened. Her paint-covered fingertips have left smears of paint across his skin, the highlight that MJ was attempting to scrape off her knife with a nail before she looked up. The paint clings to him, and instinctively, MJ reaches out to brush it away. 

All she succeeds in doing is rubbing it in further with fingertips that dance across his skin. MJ can barely breathe, and her head is spinning as she tries again, only making it worse. “Shit, Parker, I’m sorry,” she stammers, shaking her head. The loose curls go flying, and a few brush against his skin from where she is seated. “I forgot about it, let me get-” 

“MJ.” 

Slowly, MJ raises her eyes to his, her breath caught in her throat. 

Peter is staring down at her, his lips slightly parted as his eyes scan her countenance. His cheeks are crimson, and he still looks like her loser as he blinks several times, taking a sharp breath as his eyes explore her face. There is awe in his eyes, and a hesitant gleam, as he looks down at her. She can’t look away, can’t breathe, can’t even move her paint-covered hand from where it lingers on his abs. 

Peter opens his mouth to speak, then closes it. His hand finds her other hand, one with streaks of wet paint on the palm where she was testing colors. The paint transfers from her hand to his as he links their fingers together, and she exhales as their fingers lace into a lattice. 

“You have paint all over you, now,” she breathes, blinking once, then twice. 

Peter swallows, his eyes not moving. He looks as if he regrets even having to blink as he drinks in her eyes. “Then…” His voice falters, and so Peter swallows and tries again in a voice that is slightly raspy, catching in his throat. 

“Then what’s the harm in a little bit more?” 

Before she knows it, MJ is standing, and Peter’s hand in hers helps guide her to her feet. She does not let go of his hand. The fingers on his skin dance across his lower chest experimentally as she looks into his eyes, leaving little trails of pale pink in their wake. Her eyes don’t leave his, and his skin is warm underneath her fingers as her hand travels greedily up his chest, taking its sweet time. Peter’s eyes flutter shut and he leans into th contact, breath hitching whenever her touch grows heavier.

Finally, after she has explored his chest in detail, her arm snakes around his neck. Her hand plows a path through his hair, lightly tugging on the curls to bring him closer to her as she leans down slightly. Her lips crash into his, then, and their linked hands rise as Peter tugs his free to cup her face. Paint kisses her cheekbone as Peter caresses it with a thumb, and her other hand is happy to join the first in flecking his brown locks with pink and white. His other hand impatiently pulls her hair free of the ponytail, causing her to hum against his lips, tipping her head so that their lips fit together more closely. 

For one slow, delicious moment, MJ drinks him in, and he does the same for her. The kiss is insistent and intense, and more than anything, it’s an exploration. Her lips learn the dance of his own soft ones, and his hand traces the contours of her face, blazing its own line of highlight across her cheek and down her jaw. 

Finally, when they both need to come up for air, MJ breaks the kiss apart. Her breath comes in greedy gasps, drinking in the air of the studio as the golden light sinks into their skin, turning the shadows longer. The paint is cool and prickly on her skin as it begins to draw, and a smile crosses MJ’s swollen lips as she drinks in the strange sensation, eyes closed. 

“Told you you should’ve oiled me up.” 

Peter’s cheeky comment causes a laugh to leave MJ’s lips, closely followed by an insistent hum and she dives in for more. 

Maybe she has a project she should be working on… But, then, MJ has found a new canvas, and one that she much prefers. After all, Peter Parker really is a masterpiece… And MJ looks forward to studying every shadow, every contour, and every new perspective of her best friend in detail with her artist’s eye. 

After all, painting may be rewarding, but in the warmth of the studio, MJ decides that when it comes to Peter Parker, she prefers being the canvas to being the artist.

[floweryoonie]

Stay With Me ➳ Part 2

Theme: Hybrid!au

Pairing: Reader x Hybrid!Jungkook

Genre: Angst/Fluff

Warnings: mentions of abuse, language

Summary: When you find a stray hybrid beaten up on the streets after your shift, you can’t help but take the poor thing in. But it turns out that taking care of an emotionally scarred hybrid is harder than you thought.

You silently sat in your kitchen, absentmindedly stirring the coffee in front of you as your eyes rested on the hybrid sleeping silently in the living room. He looked peaceful compared to his frantic and paranoid state last night. You lips involuntarily curled up, happy that he got some rest. You could tell by the bags under his eyes that he hadn’t had a good night’s sleep in quite some time.

You were brought back to reality by your phone’s notification sound and quickly picked it up, unlocking the device.

Jaeah: Hey, you up? I was planning to stop by before my shift and maybe get some coffee. U up for it?

Glancing back at the hybrid, you hesitated, debating whether or not it would be a good idea to have Jaeah come over. But after a good minute, you decided that she could actually be of great help with your current hybrid problem, considering she worked at one of the many hybrid shelters.

Yn: You know I’m always up for coffee, even tho we might not get the chance to go out, since I kind of have a situation going on rn. I’ll tell you more about it as soon as you get here.

You didn’t have to wait long for your best friend’s reply, who’d agreed to come over in an hour. Satisfied, your put your phone back down and taking a big gulp of your lukewarm coffee, deciding that you’d prepare some breakfast for your friend and the sleeping hybrid, knowing he’d probably be hungry.

Getting up and making your way to the kitchen, you took out everything you needed. Thankfully you’d decided to go on a late night shopping spree at the supermarket two days ago. You started frying some eggs and bacon, also cutting up some fruits and brewing some fresh coffee. Just in case, you also placed some some cereal on your dining table for the hybrid. 

It took you about forty minutes to prepare the food and set the table, but you were satisfied with how everything came out. Just as you were about to start cleaning the kitchen, the sound of someone yawning caught your attention and you quickly turned around, your eyes fixed on Jeongguk, who was just waking up.

Carefully walking closer as to not startle him, you softly smiled at him. “Good morning. Did you have a good sleep?”

Even though your voice was warm and soft, the hybrid instantly jumped up, his fluffy ears resting flat on his head and his dark eyes wide as he whipped his head in your direction, instinctively backing away.

You were stunned for a few seconds, surprised by his reaction, but quickly regained yourself and tried to take a step forward, your hands in the air to show him you weren’t a threat. “Hey, it’s okay, you’re okay.” You assured the boy, continuing to slowly get closer to him, “You were in pretty bad shape when I found you, so I brought you home with me, remember?”

His wide eyes studied you for a while, before he nodded his head. “Y-yeah, I remember.” He mumbled and he visibly started to relax a bit as memories of last night came flooding back.

Reaching out your hand, you softly placed it on his arm, ignoring the way he flinched at the contact, in an attempt to calm him some more. “I prepared some breakfast for you. Are you hungry?” As if on cue his stomach growled and you couldn’t help but chuckle at the now blushing hybrid. “I’ll take that as a yes.” Still chuckling, you took a step back and started making your way to the kitchen.

Out of the corner of your eye you watched the hybrid hesitantly follow you, his eyes scanning your apartment warily. You chuckled slightly when his eyes widened even more when he caught sight of the set table, his mouth visibly watering at the overwhelming smell of the delicious food.#

Taking a seat, you expectantly gazed up at Jeongguk, but the boy just stood in front of your dining table, his eyes never leaving the food. “Come sit down before the food gets cold.” You smiled at him, gesturing to the seat opposite of you.

His eyes almost popped out of his head and he stared at you in disbelief. “T-this is for me?” He pointed at himself, still not brave enough to sit down and dig in. 

“Uh, yeah.” You mumbled, mistaking his surprise as something negative, “If you don’t like it, I can get you something els-”

The hybrid didn’t even let you finish your sentence , hastily taking a seat and attempting to give you warm smile. “No! It’s fine.” He quickly informed you and he involuntarily kept glancing at the bacon. “I just- No one has ever offered my anything other than dog food, let alone offer me a seat at their table.” A humorless laugh left his mouth and your smile immediately dropped at his statement.

“Well, I hope you like scrambled eggs.” You tried to lift his mood as stood up to serve him some food. “Dig in.” You encouraged the boy, sensing his hesitation as you sat back down to enjoy your own food.

He stared at you for a few seconds, but when he noticed the sincerity in your eyes, he hastily began shoveling food into his mouth, almost moaning as his tastebuds came in contact with something he didn’t have to fish out of a trashcan. 

Picking at your food, the corners of your lips tugged up as you watched Jeongguk devour his food and you were surprised he hadn’t chocked on it yet. You took a tiny bite from your bacon, when you were suddenly reminded of something. “Oh. I almost forgot.” You spoke up, gaining the hybrids attention. He looked up at you with wide eyes and his mouth stuffed with the food you made. “I invited one of my friends to come over, I hope that’s okay with you.” 

His ears instantly flattened against his head and he stared at you for a few seconds, his eyes narrowing slightly, before he slowly nodded his head. 

Noticing his obvious discomfort, you were quick to assure the boy. “You don’t have to be scared. She’s one of the nicest people you’ll ever meet and she might know how to help you.”

Jeongguk’s eyebrows shot up and he gave you a questioning look. “Help me?” 

“Well, you can’t possibly go back to live out on the streets.” You argued, taking another bite of your food.

The boy averted his eyes to the half eaten food on his plate, before he quietly mumbled, “So are you gonna drop me off at one of the shelters? Because if so, I’d much rather continue eating out of trashcans.” He became louder throughout his statement and you slightly jumped.

You wanted to tell him the truth, that you’d initially planned to drop him off at a shelter today, that nothing could be worse than living on the streets, that it was his only option. But instead you just offered him a comforting smile. “I won’t, Jeongguk. I promise.”

Both of you had just finished eating, when the sound of your doorbell rang through the apparent and you quickly excused yourself and told Jeongguk to wait in the living room.

Opening the front door, you were greeted by your grinning best friend holding two cups of coffee in her hands. “Good morning!” She chirped and handed you the cup she’d bought for you.

Instead of letting you friend in, you quickly slipped into a pair of shoes and closed the door behind you. “Morning” 

Giving you a questioning look, Jaeah took a slow sip of her coffee, before she spoke up again. “Is there a reason why I’m not allowed inside?” She raised on of her eyebrows. 

Sighing, you chugged down the hot beverage and leaned against your wooden door, before you started to recount last night’s events. From how you’d saved Jeongguk from getting beaten up and taking him in to having breakfast with the hybrid. Jaeah listened intently as she sipped on her drink.

“And where is he now?” Your friend questioned after you’d finished catching her up.

You pointed at your closed door, your eyes glancing back at it. “I told him to wait in the living room. He gets frightened pretty easily, so I thought I’d talk to you about him first.” You explained, knowing Jaeah’s bright and energetic personality.

Jaeah nodded in acknowledgement, crossing her arms over her chest. “And you want me to drop him off at the shelter?” Your friend assumed, putting one and one together.

“No.” Nervously wringing your hands, you avoided your friend’s eyes, “I wanted to, but-” you stopped mid-sentence, recalling the hybrid’s frightened expression and resentment for shelters.

Your friend gave you a disapproving look. “I don’t really think you really have a choice, yn. It’s the law.” She reminded you, but you could sense the sympathy in her voice. Even though she worked at a shelter herself, Jaeah knew most workers despised hybrids and refused to show them any love. Some hybrids might actually just be better off on their own.

Shaking your head, you pushed yourself off the door and started pacing around. “I know, I know. But you didn’t see his face when he mentioned the shelters. I don’t know what happened to him, but I can at least try to make sure it won’t happen again.” 

Jaeah snorted at your statement, uncrossing her arms. “So what? You’re just gonna keep him?” She scoffed with a raised eyebrow. “How are you gonna afford that, yn?”

Facing your best friend, you helplessly shrugged. “I’ll manage.”

The female opposite of you continued to study you for a few more seconds. “Fine.” Jaeah gave in, her expression softening, “Who knew you were such a rule-breaker, yn.” She added with a sly smirk and you let out a relieved breath mixed with slight laughter, happy that Jaeah was willing to help you.

Pulling your friend into a hug, you whispered a thank you as you tightened your grip around her. 

“How about I finally introduce you two. We’ve been out here for quite some time.” you broke away from your best friend, glancing at your wristwatch, slightly frowning.

A smile grew on Jaeah’s face and she slightly pushed you towards your front door, impatiently waiting for you to unlock it.

Chuckling at your friends behavior, you swiftly unlocked the door, pushing it open. “Like I said, he gets frightened very easily, so please be gentle.” You reminded her in a hushed voice as you both approached your living room after slipping out of your shoes.

Jeongguk was nervously sitting on your couch, wringing his fingers as you and Jaeah entered. The hybrid’s ears instantly perked up and his head whipped around, his dark eyes landing on your friend.

“Jeongguk, this is Lee Jaeah, my best friend.” You gestured to the female standing next to you, “Jaeah, this is Jeongguk.” You met his eyes, giving him a reassuring nod when you noticed his tense posture.

Your friend offered the hybrid a bright smile, stepping forward to shake his hand. “Nice to meet you.” She greeted him, her outstretched hand waiting for him to accept it.

Jeongguk hesitated, but eventually shook Jaeah’s hand. “Nice to meet you.” He mumbled, hastily pulling his hand back and scooting a little further away from her.

“Yn told me what happened to you last night.” Your friend continued as she took a seat on your armchair, “How are you feeling?”

Jeongguk’s eyes widened a bit at your friend’s worried tone, but he quickly recovered, clearing his throat. “I- I’m fine.”

You slightly scoffed at that, catching both of their attention. “Sure you are.” You retorted, before your eyes softened and you carefully approached the hybrid. “We just want to help you, but you have to be honest with us, okay?” You pleaded with him.

He stared at you for quite some time, before he finally let out a sigh. “I really am fine. I’m just in a lot of pain, I guess.” He trailed off as his eyes shifted to the floor as if he was ashamed to tell you.

Your heart broke at his revelation and your hand instinctively reached out for him. “Why didn’t you tell me?” As much as you tried to keep it together, your voice still cracked as you watched the broken boy with tears swimming in your eyes.

Before a tear could actually cascade down your cheeks, your friend spoke up again. “One of my good friends is a doctor specialized in hybrids. I could call her and ask if she could take a look at you.” Jaeah offered, already pulling out her phone to dial the person’s number.

Jeongguk’s eyes widened in panic and he instinctively slapped the phone out of your friend’s hand, startling the both of you. When he realized what he’d just done, the male’s head quickly whipped in your direction, his eyes shaking. “I- I’m so sorry. I shouldn't have done that.” He apologized, slightly shielding his body with his arms, as if scared you’d hit him. “But I really don’t need to see a doctor, I swear I’m good.”

Your friend gave him a sad smile as she bent down to pick up her phone. “Don’t worry about it.” She waved it off, slightly chuckling at the look of utter disbelief the hybrid was giving her. “As for my friend, I’ve worked with her for years and I can assure you that you’ve nothing to worry about.”

“If Jaeah trusts this person, so do I.” You gently squeezed the boy’s hand, trying to convince him.

Jeongguk’s eyes found your hand on top of his, surprised that someone could actually lay their hands on him without meaning to hurt or threaten him. “What if your friend informs the authorities about me. I’m a stray, after all.” His timid voice rang through the room as he voiced his biggest fear, trying hard to avoid your piercing eyes.

“She might not like the illegal aspect of it, but Yerin isn’t a snitch.” Jaeah winked at you two, a small smirk tugging at the corner of her lips.

Chuckling at your friend’s remark, you turned your attention back to Jeongguk in a last attempt to convince the boy. “We’re not gonna force you to do something you don’t want, Jeongguk. But this is for your own good.” You pleaded with him, trying to make the hybrid understand.

His eyes found yours and he let out a sigh, retracting his hand from yours. He ran a hair through his raven hair, his eyes closed as he let out a barely audible “Okay”.

[rkivepacks]

TITLE: good dreams make you bleed Originally posted on: AO3/dtgloss Pairing: taekook/kookv/vkook (Kim Taehyung & Jeon Jeongguk) Rating: PG13 Genre: Fluff Word Count: 2,081 Trigger Warning/s: Swearing Disclaimer: This work is solely from the idea of the author. Should there be similarities with the works of other respected artists are purely unintentional. This also do not reflect on the real lives of the artists portrayed in this work. Comments, suggestions and any other concerns are accepted in my inbox. Thank you! 

Summary:  i made reservations at a restaurant and the hostess informed me about my company that has already arrived and hey it's you ???? au

Jeongguk is a painter by law. Babysitter by choice.

It started when doing commissions all throughout his junior and senior year of arts school became too much for an arts major to handle all at once because, as his mother once said when he went back home to Busan for a short break ‘you’re in the last two years of your college which also means things get hard and even harder. At some point you have to drop a responsibility or two if you still want to walk the damn convention center and get the diploma yourself.’

Commissions and extra money for better dinner and boba teas be damned. Jeongguk gradually had less commissions coming in and some days and weeks, no commissions at all. He had actual plates and actual student stuff he has to finish unless he wants to repeat his past mistake of almost submitting a commission as his final project.

Jeongguk is officially a graduate. Unemployed definitely not by choice.

The period where he was waiting for his graduation up to the present, the man was busy babysitting on the side, doing some commissions and having art classes for kids during month-long summer camps nearby. Although he hates kids between the ages of six to twelve, it will have to do if he wants to be all mighty and independent as all people born under the sign of virgos do.

“Jeonggukie, Sanhi kept on moving and now my lines are messed up!” One kid from his class that day wailed, pointing to his ruined drawing sheet.

“That’s enough. Sanhi would you mind saying sorry and then finish your work on my table instead?” He reprimands and gives the kid with the ruined sheet, Miri, a new clean one. Jeongguk helps the naughty little boy move farther as not to cause more chaos and goes on with checking the works of the rest of the class.

“Remember to clean your brushes before packing up!” He reminds the kids who thought nodding once or twice would be enough to let their teacher know they heard him.

Eventually he gets tired and sits at the corner, checking the time. Only 43 minutes left until class ends and he can go home and wallow in self-pity. He checks the notifications he didn’t mind during the early hours of the class and figures he can reply to some (hoping some of these were commissions).

From: Joon-hyungoo Jungoo are u gonna go grocery shopping today?? Let me know so I can do it Press 1 for more info.

From: unknown Good afternoon! This is the guardian of Haechin. Do you mind keeping her company for a little while? I won’t be able to make it on time from where I am now. I’m sorry for the trouble.

Jeongguk ponders for a moment before checking the time again, seeing that there are 22 minutes left.

Haechin is the little girl with different hairstyles adorning her head everytime she shows up and her Sofia the First bag she always carries that contains more packed snacks than school materials.

To: Joon-hyungoo Got held up hyung !!!! Can u do it hhhehehek

To: Unknown Hello! I’ll be waiting in the classroom with Haechin. See you!

Later on the kids were dismissed, their parents slowly coming in to check on their child packing up and cleaning. Jeongguk taught the kids that cleaning up the work area is important and all that shit. He calls Haechin over and tells her to occupy the teacher’s table as he cleans up the rest of the materials and his own personal belongings as they wait for Haechin’s guardian.

“Daddy!” Haechin explains and waddles to the door. Jeongguk looks over to where she ran off to, expecting the guardian who was always taking Haechin to and from the art classes only to see a different person this time. He opts to make the connection that this man must be the guardian in the text messages.

Jeongguk shortly wonders if the usual guardian getting Haechin from his classes was the mother or a babysitter. The woman could pass for a mother although she’s young and petite.

The man (in a suit. Definitely not a baby sitter because he doesn’t think babysitters baby sit in suits. Or maybe this is a different household with different house rules?) squishes Haechin’s cheeks to greet her and asks questions about her day before putting his attention to him.

“Hi! Thank you so much. I’m really sorry for this I could not leave for work earlier to make it on time here.” The man in suit who definitely isn’t the babysitter says, extending a hand to Jeongguk.

“Oh. No worries, I don’t have to be somewhere else after this. So. It’s okay, really.” He says, shaking the man (again, in a suit) that was extending his hand to him.

“We’ll get going, I guess. See you soon…” The man trailed off, realizing the two adults do not actually know each other.

“Jeon Jeongguk.” He introduces himself. “I’m the teacher… obviously.” He chuckles.

“Kim Taehyung. I’m Haechin’s dad.” The man in suit says. “It’s getting late so we’ll head out.” He waves and takes a hold of Haechin’s hand.

“See you tomorrow, teacher!” Haechin waves and Jeongguk makes the same gesture before muttering a “bye!” just loud enough for the two to hear. On their way out, voices that could only be attributed to the daughter and father duo in the hallway discusses what to have for dinner and the daughter replying with what she wants for her packed snacks tomorrow instead.

+

The shared apartment sounded eerily quiet and the locked door could only signify that no one was home as of the moment. Jeongguk makes his way to the kitchen only to find a cup in the sink that Namjoon or Hoseok probably used, and assumes that the two went grocery shopping and sending a silent prayer that they don’t miss something essential for Jeongguk’s daily routine (His fortified milk).

The sound of the passcode being punched in outside resonates throughout the apartment, signaling the arrival of the two and as predicted, the sound of numerous supermarket bags being carried into the kitchen. Jeongguk rushes to aid the older men in carrying the large bags before setting them on the counter.

“Why did you get home late? Didn’t I tell you that your curfew is only ten in the evening? Stop spending your lunch money on liquors and cigarettes. Study, Jeongguk.” Hoseok makes a big show of portraying a hardworking mother with a low-class financial background, Jeongguk being the deadbeat son.

“You’re so full of shit, hyung.” He deadpans before laughing at the latter’s antics. Namjoon goes straight for the coldest pitcher of water from the fridge and pours himself a glass, ignoring the usual banter of the two.

Jeongguk checks the fridge if it has been stocked up with fresh groceries (and to make sure his Hoseok hyung does not put another toothpaste in the freezer just because he can. The toothpaste tube ended up in the side of the sink for a whole three days to defrost and to properly be used). Jeongguk decides not to mention the nut tarts that are in the fridge that surely cost more than usual as it was a delicacy being sold in the local supermarket.

After a quick dinner all by himself as he got home late and the two already had their share of the dinner, Jeongguk retreated back to his room to check his other works in progress. One of his wips.

(“The fuck is a wips?” Namjoon asks, incredulously.

“Work in progress, hyung.” Jeongguk answers, half-annoyed his cereal was halted halfway to his mouth. “I thought it meant what in actual phuck.” Hoseok supplements, aiming to high five Namjoon across the table.

The three men laugh at the light joke over instant noodles for snacks.)

“Look at this baby… You’re only lacking a background and a few details, right?” Jeongguk talks to one of the paintings for a client. “Yes… I’m just going to save what’s left of these decent pants and I’ll give my full attention to you.” He sighs, walking over to his drawer full of clothes then to the bathroom.

Jeongguk gets back to his room with his face slightly wet from being washed and a few droplets getting to his top. With a soft playlist of live performances from various ballad artists from youtube, Jeongguk gets to work, opting to not do a grand background and only fixing minor details on the painting.

+

For Friday class Jeongguk had prepared his 17 students their own sheet of paper with a large initial of their first names covering the whole page. The students were bound to think they are in for another game that will surely get the whole class chaotic. Jeongguk promised to never again host another game (someone used a permanent market on the whiteboard that took ages to get off. He looks at the faint mark left on it). Everyone erupts in murmurs and Jeongguk listens to the crazy ideas of toddlers.

“We know how to do the alphabet though.” One wondered aloud.

“Teacher, why is my H bigger than Aehoon’s A?” One asked thoughtfully. “Teacher, Gonghoon wrote on the paper already!” Someone chastised his classmate.

“Okay, listen toddlers.” Jeongguk gathers their attention. Once settled, Jeongguk asks the little children to draw inside the big letters in order to describe themselves. He scans the faces of the children as some were left confused, some already forming ideas, and some were too busy folding the corners of the sheets.

Jeongguk settles to watch over the kids from his place, from where he can see all of them in one vision, with a rough overview of their artworks. Some dived in into work while some were busy watching the others work. He goes around at some point to assist students and to reprimand one for almost ruining a clean sheet of a classmate.

The class ends soon, Jeongguk signhs in relief at the realization that it’s the weekend, he can work on some commissions and rest. He tells all the children to clean up after themselves and to take home the unfinished work and finish it at home. Jeongguk cleans up the rest, only residing to his table once he has managed to fix the mismatched crayons to their proper boxes. He notices that Haechin is tugging at his pants, only the two of them in the room after having the other kids driven home by their guardians and parents.

“Is my daddy not here yet?” Haechin asks.

“Haechin, how about we draw something else? Your father said he’s having trouble looking for your favorite candy right now so he’s running late!” He comforts the child, although he also wonders who’s going to be at the door to get Haechin.

“Haechin?” A familiar voice makes way through the door.

“Daddy, teacher said you got me my candy?” Haechin greets his dad.

“I’m sorry I had to compromise so she wouldn’t feel bad.” Jeongguk rushes to apologize to the distressed father. He does not even know if Haechin is allowed near candies. Save him for panicking.

“It’s okay.” Taehyung smiles apologetically to the man before turning to his daughter. “Baby, your candy is so hard to find, I went everywhere for it but it’s gone?” The father consoles the little child.

As cute as the scene is in front of him, Jeongguk checks the time and he really should be closing his classroom now if he wants to make it home on time before rush hour picks. He tells the same thing (except for the getting home because his car’s coding hits on Fridays so he takes the public transportation) and the father and daughter duo rushes to get home but not before apologizing profusely courtesy of the man.

Haechin waves at him and he manages to choke out a “don’t forget your homework!” and the father smiles at him before the two disappears behind the door.

That night Jeongguk stays up in front of his laptop, using it as a heater on his lap as he browse through his emails and blog. An email confirming a dinner meeting with a new client was opened up to a new window, the secretary of the client of his informing him the details for tomorrow night (as it is the only available time for the busy man, apparently).

+

[end]

[See all works here]

[letholojimin]

11 (JJK)

STUCK SERIES - PART 11

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader

Themes: high school au, badboy & fuckboy jungkook

Genre: smut

Word Count: 2,562

Summary: After being labelled the school’s biggest bad boy, Jeon Jungkook chooses to live up to the title. What he doesn’t know is that his arrogance will lead him to you.

SMUT WARNING

DADDY + BABY GIRL KINK

10 | 12 | MASTERLIST

You wake up after spending the night over at Jungkook’s apartment.

Your head is hammering harshly against your skull when you first wake up. There’s no warm body beside you, no arms wrapped around your stomach and for a moment you’re actually grateful- you’d done some pretty wild shit the night before and you weren’t exactly sure how you’d be able to speak to Jungkook now that the both of you are actually sober. You have never gotten tipsy with him around and the first time you do, the night becomes so eventful. You aren’t sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.

When you look towards the nightstand, there’s an Advil waiting for you alongside a glass of water. You smile at the simple yet thoughtful action and you hope you don’t throw up when you see him from the nerves. Come to think of it, he had eaten you out twice but you have never been able to reciprocate in both instances having been too tired. “Fuck,” You mumble as you finally get up, wondering how bad that must have been for him.

Your bare feet pad against the wooden floor and you notice that you’re wearing a simple oversized tee along with some boxer shorts- Jungkook’s clothing. It smells like him. You finally reach the en-suite bathroom and wash your face, tying your hair into a messy bun from a rubber band you found placed on his desk. You gargle and try to make yourself a little bit more presentable by rubbing off the makeup you hadn’t had the chance to remove last night.

Soon enough, you step out of the bedroom and hear faint music from along the hallway. You follow the sound and you’re met with the back of your boyfriend, who’s busy typing away on his phone. Silently, you make your way towards him and hug him from behind. He instantly smiles and places his hands on top of yours, placing a light peck on your jaw. “Good morning, love.”

You barely feel like shit now and it amazes you how wondrous it can be to be in his presence first thing in the morning. It felt so domestic and you were happy- perfectly content with how lazy the day seemed. You whisper your own good morning to him, letting go of him just to sit down on his lap, turning your head over to give him a proper kiss on the lips. He tells you he got you coffee and a donut from the nearest shop and you thank him for both that and the medicine, telling him that you really appreciated his actions.  You take a seat on a stool on the other edge of the counter where you can fully see his face.

Surprisingly, he doesn’t even open his phone after that, placing the device on the counter. He watches you eat intently, but not to the point that would appear creepy or annoying. If you’re honest, you don’t think anything he does will ever be creepy or annoying to you because you’re practically whipped for him. You hope that he feels the same way.

“Where’s Taehyung?” You ask, your raspy voice filling in the silence with the exception of the music playing in the background. “I’m gonna take a wild guess and bet he’s still at Yoongi and Hoseok’s. He parties really hard after all.” With that, you nod and let the topic die. You’re worried that he was going to ignore last night, but after a few minutes he initiates the conversation this time, about to give you an explanation.

“Y/N, about last night…” He reaches over to scratch the back of his head, refusing to meet your eyes. “I know you were tipsy and everything and I also know you haven’t… well…” Jungkook’s voice trails off and you know what he’s about to say. You can also see that he’s beating himself up over having you in that position when you clearly weren’t sober and he’s just gauging if you actually remember what had happened.

“I remember everything, Kook.” You reply casually, taking a sip of your coffee which is no longer warm. You assume you must have been passed out for a longer time than you think, the sun shining high in the sky. “I also was in full control of everything I was doing, so I hope you aren’t worrying or thinking about that too much.”

He looks at you, listening to every word you were saying. “I also knew you were a bit tipsy too, but I don’t think there’s anything to worry about at all,”

“If you ask me, I clearly wanted you and I have no idea how you didn’t fuck me when I was practically at your disposal- waiting for you to do so.” His eyes widen at how blunt you are and he stutters saying his next words.

“I just didn’t know if you were ready, I mean, I didn’t want you to wake up today and think that you made a mistake. I don’t want to pressure you into doing anything.“ He responds, sighing. He’s happy you remember everything but as for the daddy part, he hopes you’ll let that go even though he realizes he does have that kink. Fuck, just thinking about how you called him that turns him on.

You can see the surprise on his face when you get up from your chair and make your way towards him. The look in your eyes changed so drastically over the span of a few seconds. If you didn’t want him to be your first, you surely want it to be him now because of how much he respected you and took care of you, putting you before any of his needs.

“If you weren’t sure if I was ready, I hope you know that I’m ready now. I’m even on the pill.” Your lips latch themselves on the soft spot of his, sucking lightly. Your tongue soothes over the bruise you’re sure will form on his neck. You can hear his voice and feel the vibration of his throat as you continue marking him- “So you like it when I touch you like that?”

You hum in response, and he gets up, pushing you up against the wall near the hallway. A small gasp escapes your throat, Jungkook’s forehead pressed right against yours. His eyes have darkened in shade and you know that there’s no turning back now. “You like it when I push you against a wall?”

Your breath hitches as he stares into your own eyes while waiting for a response. “Yes,” you shakily breathe out and that seems to drive him insane.

“You like knowing I want to fuck you so badly, baby?”

You nod in response, unable to speak at this point. Before you can blink, he’s pushing you back in the direction of his room as he connects your lips, passionately kissing you. You’re melting under his warm touch, unable to think about anything expect him and how good he makes you feel. When you part your lips to catch your breath, he commands you to jump and you do so, locking your legs around his waist. His bulge is directly in front of your core and you feel yourself growing wet from the contact. Soon, you’re in his room and he’s stripping you off of his own shirt, revealing your bare torso to him.

“Fucking gorgeous,” He says before kissing you all over, lingering on certain spots to leave bruises. All you can do it pant, whispering his name over and over again as you continue to be the recipient of his rough lips marking your chest. It isn’t long before he takes off his own shirt and he moves down to your lower region, pushing the boxers he lent you down.

“You were so tight around my fingers the first time I ever touched you and you were still so tight last night, how are you gonna take my cock?” He groans, mouth moving over to your core. He places his fingers against your clit and coats them in your juices, leaving you needy for more. “I’m a big girl…” You moan, Jungkook’s tongue flat against your entrance. “I can, fuck, I can take it!”

He continues to attack your pussy, trying to get you even wetter to prepare you for him and he seems to be doing a good job because you’re just about soiling the sheets, dripping for him. He spreads your wetness around your entire entrance, slipping his fingers between your folds. You mutter out a string of curses, so frustrated because you feel so empty.

He pushes his bottoms down and for the first time, his length is exposed to you. He’s big and you’re almost scared of how painful you think the process will be but you’re eager too, seeing how hard he is for you. Your mouth waters and you crawl over to him, grazing your hand over his well-defined stomach and you end up holding his cock. You wrap your hand around it, slowly moving up and down and you see him tense at your unexpected movements. “Jesus, Y/N… Keep doing that,” He grunts and you bring your lips down to the head. You place a quick peck on the tip before swirling your tongue over it, making him suddenly buck his hips up. You take one of his balls in your other hand and massage it slowly, wanting to see how he’ll react to it.

“Fucking hell!” He says, knitting his fingers in your hair. “Where did you learn to do this?” His voice comes out in shaky breaths, telling you you must be doing something right. You decide to be a little bit more daring and you take his dick in your mouth, pushing down until tears are brimming your eyes. You hastily get back up, taking a large breath. You repeat the motion as Jungkook’s hips stutter, his eyes rolling to the back of his head from the intense pleasure. This time, you breathe through your nose and look up at him. You bob your head up and down and he makes eye contact with you, sending you an encouraging look.

“Keep your eyes on me, baby girl, fuck, just like that.” You make sure you keep your eyes open and before long, he gently pushes you off him, making you lie down on the bed. He sees the confusion on your face. “I can’t wait any longer,” He says, lining his tip up with your entrance. Before anything, you place a hand on his stomach, reminding him about the condom. “No need, I haven’t fucked anyone bareback.” At his words, you relax, falling back down on the plush bed.

“This might hurt at first so just tell me if you want me to stop, okay?” He leans forward to place his forehead on yours for the second time that day, ready to observe your reaction in case it was too painful for you to handle. He finally pushes in, the tip entering your warmth slowly as you will yourself to be strong even though it feels like you’re being torn apart. You try to spread your legs more to allow him more access as he whispers sweet nothings in your ear. “You’re so tight, god,”

He pushes in more, almost half of his length in you. At this point, a tear slips out of your eye and he takes one hand off your hips to wipe it, placing a kiss on your lips. “You can do it, Y/N,” He places his mouth on yours once again, trying to distract you as he presses in deeper. He can’t comprehend how well you’re taking him, walls wrapping around him so tightly. A minute later, he’s buried in you fully and you let out a breath you weren’t aware you had been holding. “You’re amazing, I love you,” He groans, and after a moment, you tell him he can start moving. “I love you too,” You reply shyly, blush creeping up to your cheeks. You don’t know If there’s blood or not, and you don’t really care because all you can think about is the discomfort mixed with the happiness his words brought you.

Jungkook obliges, continuing to move gently. He holds you hips and thrusts slowly and deeply. The first few times he does this feels weird but eventually, the pain subsides. It takes another few movements of his hips before you tell him to speed up, his pelvis hitting yours as he moves sharply, cock buried in you to the hilt. Both of you are reduced to a hot, moaning mess as his skin becomes coated in a sheen layer of sweat. “You take my dick so well- shit,”

You move your hips to meet with his before you urge him to give you more, no longer satisfied with the way he’s moving. “Fuck, harder!” You let out a whimper as he struggles to satisfy you with your walls so clenched around him. Your name drops from his lips like a mantra- both of you so far gone in the ecstasy you’re giving each other. “Come on, god, right there-“ You can barely finish your sentence as he hits your g-spot, his thrusts becoming more powerful. You’re so close, so so so close, and if he pushes in further you know it won’t be long before you come undone. Throwing your pride away, you place your mouth beside his earlobe.

“Deeper, daddy.”

Fuck. Jungkook stops moving, a bit taken aback from how you were able to call him that in a sober, more conscious state before he growls, his grip on your hips so tight you’re sure he’ll leave bruises. “You fucking asked for it.”

He slams into you so suddenly, eliciting a loud moan from you as he pushes all the way.. You can feel your walls stretching even more to take him all up and though it was so extreme, you were so wet so he continued to slip right in. His greedy lips meet your skin as his hair becomes beaded with sweat while he marks your collarbone. A hand leaves your side to rub your clit and soon you’re yelling out loud, not caring if any of his neighbors could hear you.

“I’m coming, oh fuck, you fill me up so well,”

Your orgasm hits you like a bus, crashing into you hard. Your back arches off the bed and your toes curl, Jungkook forcing himself to open his eyes just to see you fall apart underneath him. Your grip on his shoulders tighten and you scratch his back before falling back down on the mattress, overwhelmed. Jungkook continues to thrust in you, chasing after his own high which he reaches soon after, cursing and chanting your name.

It takes a few minutes for you two to catch your breath, his body collapsing right beside you. He’s never gone that hard, that fast and that deep before, mind spinning at how good he felt inside you. You were worth the wait, and all he could think about was how on earth he would keep his hands off of you now that he’s already tasted what it’s like to make love to you.

“I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you too.”

betchall thought i forgot about updating but here you go finally the fucking