#including walking off without parts/all of the class in places we have Never Been before. poor communication. being weird/gross about drac
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distance-does-not-matter · 4 months ago
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i deserve compensation (psych minor hearing about freud during a summer english class)
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bellysoupset · 6 months ago
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Angie and Jonah talk
This is just funny fluff and some Leo/Jon sexy times. For 🍄!
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Jonah groaned as he waited for the call to connect, the little dots blinking on the screen. Across the room, reading, Leo let out a little amused chuckle. 
Finally the call picked up and Angelina’s face appeared on the screen. She was sitting in her bedroom, wearing a butterfly patterned top and pouting, “Hi Jon…”
“Hi,” Jonah looked up quickly, embarrassed Leo was listening, but his fiance wasn’t paying him any mind, turning the page of his book, “you got home alright? How was the plane trip back?”
“It was fine,” she said quietly, glancing down, “I’m sorry for leaving like that-”
“No, it’s okay. You weren’t comfortable here-”
“No,” Angie interrupted, raising her voice. She sounded an awful lot like him, Jonah thought, snapping his mouth shut as his sister glared at him, “I shouldn’t have acted like that. I got pissed you called me childish and then I went and was super childish…” 
“You’re seventeen,” Jon pointed out, feeling like he was saying the wrong thing. She let out a huff, looking more angry than before.
“And now you think I’m childish all the time.”
“I didn’t say that,” he sighed, “you’re seventeen, you’re allowed to be a little-”
“I’m practically eighteen,” Angelina defended herself and Jonah bit his tongue not to tell her that being two or three months older wasn’t the milestone of maturity she thought it was.
Instead he only nodded, trying to sound understanding as he said, “I know, Angie…”
There was another huff, then silence. Jonah watched as Angelina picked on her nails, doing everything to avoid looking at the camera. A long minute of awkward silence, then she sighed and looked up. 
“Did you… Did you think about the trip?” She asked in the smallest voice, “did you talk about it with Leo…?” 
“I did,” Jonah nodded. On the couch, Leo perked up upon hearing his name, sitting up to overhear, “Ange, I’m really sorry, but I can’t leave my whole life for three months. I’m in the middle of my residency here, my supervisor would never allow me to leave for three months and then come back-”
“It’s okay,” Angie sighed, curling up on her bed and hugging her knees, “it’s fine, I get it-”
“I can do three weeks,” Jon said without thinking and behind his laptop he saw Leo raise his eyebrows, looking puzzled. Jonah shrugged, while Angelina immediately perked up.
“What- You can!?”
“Three weeks only,” Jonah said strongly, but he couldn’t tamper the sudden flip in her humor. She let out a squeal, opening a blinding smile and even if Jonah wasn’t so sure about this decision, he couldn’t go back on it now. 
Leo got up from the couch, stretching, and then walked to the kitchen. 
“It’s okay, we can do a lot in three weeks,” Angie was saying, all of her forlorn attitude out of the window and Jonah squinted at the screen, feeling like he had been slightly manipulated. He’d have to watch out for that, but another time, for now he basked in his sister’s happiness as she squealed about how much fun it’d be. 
“Mama helped me draft a list of all the places I have to visit, hold on!” Angie squealed, leaving the camera on, but rolling off the bed in order to retrieve her notes. Jonah sighed, then jerked as he felt Leo sneak up on him and plant a kiss to his cheek. 
“You’re such a softie,” the blonde whispered in his ear, before walking back to the couch, now with a bowl of food and his laptop.
They talked for another half an hour. Angelina’s list included an impressive list of countries, but to make the most out of Jonah’s presence she decided to keep his three weeks only in Europe. 
“We should start in Switzerland,” Jonah suggested, “it’s where Jackie lives, she’s been asking me to visit with Leo, then you and I part ways and Leo comes home.”
His fiance looked up from the couch, “Switzerland? When? I can’t just go-”
“My classes start in September,” Angie’s voice was all helpful, “so anytime before September, I can plan my trip around you guys…” 
Leo scrunched up his nose, but said nothing and Jonah nodded in agreement, “we’ll talk and I’ll talk with Jackie as well- Have you met my mother? In person?” 
“I met her in Milan’s Fashion Week last year. She’s really nice,” Angie nodded, “she was busy though.” 
“And you’d be okay with me inviting you over to Jackie’s while we’re there?” 
“If you’re there with me…” Suddenly Angie looked a lot more guarded, “I mean, your mom is nice and all, but she’s your mother…” 
“I’ll be there,” Jonah reassured her, mentally starting to do the math, “I’ll call you back, okay darling?”
“Okay,” Angie waved at him, “tell Leo I sent kisses and that I’m really sorry for running out…” 
“Oh he knows,” Jonah agreed, since Leo raised a hand from the couch, waving off Angie’s concern. 
They said their goodbyes and Jonah finally hung up. He closed his laptop, then covered his face with his hands and groaned, as he heard Leo say “Switzerland, Jonah?”
“You need to meet Matteo anyway,” Jonah rubbed his temples, hiding his embarrassed blush, “might as well kill two birds with one stone.”
“You really need to learn how to say no to the women in your life,” Leo chided him quietly, but there was no heat in his voice, “c’mere, let’s talk about the wedding. I’m doing research.”
Jonah perked up and immediately got up from his spot at the dining table, joining Leo on the couch. The blonde sat up correctly instead of sprawling on it, so Jon could slide next to him, then clicked around a tab, “I found a blog that says how long it takes to plan a wedding,” Leo explained and Jonah spread out, planting his socked feet on the coffee table and throwing an arm around his fiance’s shoulders, pulling him closer. 
“And it says it takes a full year,” Leo continued, snuggling against him, “maybe more, if we want it to be a destination wedding…”
“Do you want it to be a destination wedding?” Jonah frowned, confused. It didn’t seem like Leo’s style and true to what he expected his fiance shook his head.
“No, but you might…?”
“I don’t,” Jon lazily ran his hand up and down Leo’s arm, “and it doesn’t take a full year, that’s for regular people.”
Leo pulled back, unimpressed, “and we’re what exactly?” he scoffed, causing Jonah to blush. 
“I meant that’s for people who don’t have a dedicated wedding planner and need to wait for best prices-”
“You mean this is for anyone who’s not filthy rich,” Leo glared at him, “which we are not.”
“No, I mean…” Jon frowned, “you’re a lawyer. I’m a doctor. Surely we can afford a wedding planner?” 
His logic made sense, but it didn’t stop Leo from shaking his head, “I don’t want that, I want us to plan it. I want it to feel like it’s my wedding, not some gay from NYC’s.”
Jonah raised his eyebrows at Leo’s derogative tone. He was aware that he was the more progressive one of the two, but Jon often forgot about it. This was a startling reminder.
He pulled back just a smidge and Leo’s whole face turned red. The blonde winced, “I’m sorry, that was mean-”
“Yeah,” Jonah nodded, then kissed him, “I wouldn’t marry some NYC gay, are you crazy?”
Leo let out a whine, but wrapped an arm around his neck and pulled Jonah closer, pushing the laptop off his lap on the coffee table and falling against the cushions. 
Jon grinned, he knew part of this was just Leo being embarrassed about the whole conversation and wanting a distraction, but he was more than happy to oblige. He grabbed Leo’s chin, turning it slightly to the side and planting a kiss on his neck, letting his hand drag down the other man’s body. 
Leo squirmed under him, moving so Jonah could slot himself between his legs and then stripping Jonah of his shirt, grabbing him by the back of his neck and pulling him into another kiss. 
The couch was too small for two men to be making out on top of it and twice they nearly fell, but they were too enthralled with each other to actually get up. Jonah removed Leo’s shirt, then slid down, rummaging a trail of kisses down his boyfriend’s chest, leaving little pink marks until his lips met the golden patch of hairs under Leo’s navel and leading inside his pants. 
He nuzzled his nose over it, chin rubbing the volume on Leo’s pants and causing the blonde to let out a small moan, his cheeks turning red, throwing his head back as Jonah undid the cords of his sweatpants and pushed them down. 
“Jon-”
“Yeah?” He answered cheekily, avoiding Leo’s erection pressing against his loose boxers and tugging his pants down, planting a collection of kisses on his thighs. The muscle of Leo’s left thigh twitched, suppressing the urge to headlock Jonah down.
“Jon…” almost a whimper, as Leo tilted his hips up, begging for any friction whatsoever. He darted out a hand, cupping Jonah’s face and pulling him for a kiss again, “baby, c’mon-”
“What do you want? Uhm?” Jon pressed over him, rubbing their erections together and moaning in his boyfriend’s ear, “tell me what you want me to do-”
His dirty talking was interrupted by the front door opening and Leo let out a shriek, hugging Jonah to him as if the other man was a blanket he could hide under. 
Jonah’s heart was racing as well, although he didn’t scream, and his face several shades too dark, as blood rushed up in angry blush. 
Wendy answered Leo’s shriek with a squeal, “It’s just me! It’s…me?” Lowering the tall metal can she had been holding, Wendy cocked her eyebrow and tilted her head, “what are you-” then her whole face went red and she gasped, turning around to face the door, “SORRY!” 
“GET OUT OF HERE, WENDY!” Leo barked, shoving Jonah off of him, too angry to care, “who gave you a key! Why didn’t you knock!?”
“I DID KNOCK!” Wendy cried out, still facing the front door. All the commotion had spooked JD and the cat had emerged from the bedroom, where she had been napping, and jumped on the coffee table, staring judgingly at Leo and Jon, “No one answered so I figured-”
“OUT!” Leo got up, reaching for his shirt and putting it angrily, facing the wrong way. His face was red and his hair a mess and when Jonah glanced down- 
“Baby, uh-” he reached to grab Leo’s hand, but the blonde was too pissed off. 
“I’m just here to drop Ma’s gift-”
“Get out of my place, Wendy! And give me your key, now!”
“Leo-”
“No, I’m not, Jonah gave me the key! It’s for emergencies!”
“This wasn’t an eme-”
“Oh my god, so I walked in on you, what’s the-” Wendy turned around to glare at him, only to let out a shriek and drop all the cans she was holding, as she rushed to cover her eyes, “LEO, WHAT THE FUCK!” 
Confused on why she was screaming, Leo looked over his shoulder to Jonah, who glared at him, gesturing down. The blonde was still just in his boxers and excitement hadn’t exactly faded yet…
“SHIT, shitshitshitshit- DOn’t open your eyes!” 
“Oh don’t worry, I don’t plan to!” Wendy spat, her face aflame under her hands, while Leo looked around without knowing what to do. Jonah rolled his eyes, throwing him a couch cushion and the blonde promptly planted it over his crotch, his face cherry red by how embarrassed he was.
“Well, now I get why Jonah puts up with you,” Wendy mumbled sourly and Leo whined in the back of his throat, humiliated.
“Please just get out of my house.”
“Ma made you chocolate biscuits, as congratulations for getting engaged,” Wendy walked backwards towards the door, not bothering with the cans she had dropped, eyes still closed, “let’s not see each other for a week. Minimum.”
“Or ever again,” Leo suggested, his voice muffled by the hand he was covering his face with. Jonah snorted.
“You two are so dramatic.”
Wendy opened her eyes right as she reached the door, then glared at him, “you’re in your boxers too, buddy,” she pointed out sharply, while Leo talked over her by saying “you’re just lucky you’re a grower, not a shower-”
Jonah’s mouth snapped shut and he glared at Leo, as Wendy let out a cackle and ran out of their apartment. 
“Any more bright comments, Wagner?”
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rebecca-babz · 1 day ago
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Turquoise Sorbet Chapter 1!
This is just a little Rebecca X Darren fic I’ve been working on. It has no prompt. It is them being silly and cute. Expect some Thad X Uzi content in there too :3 ENJOY!!!
“Your house tonight?” A note dropped on Rebeccas desk. She smiled and picked up her pencil. “Obviously” She sneakily passed it to her boyfriend, imagining the things they would do on the date they were planning, while her homework sat collecting dust on her desk.
A note passed back onto her desk. “What do you wanna do?” “Oh I don't know, I was thinking we could go to that ice cream place.” She handed her response to him, smiling. She glanced back towards the teacher. He was writing on the whiteboard, explaining some pointless math problem that Rebecca didn’t care to learn. She was bored, but having Darren in the class made math a lot better.
As Darren passed over yet another note, his hand brushed hers and she paused. She had been with him for months now, she wasn’t sure why she was still so… Crush-y about him. She looked over at him and realized he was staring behind her chair. Sam was miming kissy faces at them, while Emily was laughing and mimicking their expressions. “Traitors, all of you!” She hissed, but she was grinning.
Turning back around, she picked up her pencil. She was about to write something else when a voice rang across the classroom.
“Rebecca, I hope whatever you’re writing there is related to math.” She whipped her head up and realized the whole class was staring at her, including the teacher. She flitted her eyes back and forth nervously, feeling the pressure of 15 kids` attention. “Uh, well…” “So it’s not math.” “Uh- No…” The teacher paced over to her desk and snatched up the note. His eyes scanned over it, an incomprehensible look spreading across his face. He placed the note back down gingerly. “Well,“ he said, walking back to his desk. “That definitely wasn’t math related.” Giggles resounded around the room. “Whatever! It wasn’t your business ANYWAY.“ She sighed, folding her arms across her chest. He ignored her, and went back to his math lesson.
Darren passed another note. “I just realized that I have football practice tonight… Sorry babe.” He scribbled a sad face on it which made Rebecca smile. “It’s okay. I-“ The bell rang before she could finish. She erased the last part and handed the note to him. “We can just hang out at practice. I have cheerleading too, remember?” She said, her voice lilting. She was excited.
He smiled, glad. He couldn’t stand not being able to spend time with her. One time, She was sick and had to stay home. He had football practice that day, and he couldn’t concentrate without her. The coach has been very concerned about her attendance since then.
Darren tossed off his shirt, trading it for his school sports shirt and letterman jacket. “Hey bro! How’s you and your girlfriend going?” Thad commented, leaning on the locker next to him. “Doing good, why?” His question fell on deaf ears, as Thad had spaced off. “Hey. Bro. C’mon.” Darren shook him a bit on his shoulder. “Huh? Oh, sorry dude. Just… got lost in my thoughts.” “I can see that. You good?” “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.” Darren tilted his head slightly, intrigued. “You sure? Seems like you’re stressing over something.” “Yeah actually. You got a girlfriend right? Can you help me out?” Thad looked at Darren, pleading. “Uhh, sure man. What is it?” Darren was really interested now. If Thad, the school-wide known “Chill guy” was stressing out, he knew it must be really important to him.
“So, there’s this girl I like, right? She’s super cool, and smart, and pretty, but I’m kinda worried that she’s not interested. I usually just have girls falling at my feet to date me, which is- I don’t know how to feel about that, but I’ve never actually… had to… actually try? And I know you’re pretty experienced with girls so… yeah. Can you help me?”
This stunned Darren. Thad had never needed help with girls before. If felt kind of surreal. “Uhh, yeah man.” Darren replied, “Do you have her number?” A guilty look spread across Thads face. “…No.” “Dude, seriously? You’ve been gushing about her to me this whole time and you don’t even have her number?” Darren laughed. “Haha.. Yeah I should probably get to that..” Chuckling nervously, Thad pulled a football out from a nearby locker. “We should go, It’s almost time for practice and if we’re late coach is gonna murder us.”
As Darren walked away, Thad pulled out a piece of notebook paper. “Note to self-“ he wrote. “get Uzi’s number.”
Rebecca picked up her Pom-poms, glancing over at the football field. She was in a good mood today. The coaches decided that the cheer team would be working side by side with the football team, and that means she would get to see Darren.
She got into position with the rest of the cheerleaders. She didn’t really talk to the others, save for Lizzy and doll, and Jessica if she really counted. Her sister didn’t really speak with her much. She knew the others names, sure, and chatted once in a while. But that was it.
“Alright Lizzy, you start us off!” The coach shouted, glancing at her clipboard.
“ONE TWO THREE FOUR!” Lizzys yell rang around the field. Their routine was a little basic, but it was showy, and that’s what mattered. As she flung her Pom poms into the air, she glanced at Darren who was just… staring at her. Not paying attention to practice at all.
And then a football slammed into the side of his head.
She reacted with her whole body. Her shoulders tensed and her arms flew to her torso in a violent grimace. In that same instant, she whipped around and started sprinting, panic so thorough it spread through her whole body. She even tripped over her feet running to him, but she never once faltered. “DARREN!” Rebecca white-knuckled her pompoms as she dropped to his side.
“Ohhhh my god, are you okay?! Darren!!!” The rest of the football players gathered around them like it was some sort of show, while the other cheerleaders just stood from afar, watching it go down. Darren clutched his head and half groaned, half laughed. Rebecca released a panicked laugh that wasn’t really a laugh at all, more like a mix of a scoff at the ridiculousness of the situation and a shrill exhale of breath, pure worry for her boyfriend.
She looked around at Darrens teammates, and even coach, doing a total of absolutely nothing. In a boost of adrenaline and amger, she gathered herself and picked Darren up. She started to walk off in the direction of the nurses office, or wheverer she could get him help.
But not before scolding the CRAP out of her fellow witnesses. “Are you kidding me?!” She hissed, still holding her boyfriend bridal style. “If Copper-Nine has ever seen a more useless group of people, I’d cut off my own legs before believing it! Darren got hit in the head and the only possible thing you idiots can think to do is stand ans stare like this is a damn CIRCUS?! If my hands were free I’d slap the living daylights out of you, but I doubt you’d even process it until next Tuesday with how slow your BRAINS ARE MOVING!!!” She turned on her heel and stomped away. “USELESS!”
Lizzy let out a low, long whistle and turned to Doll. “How crazy was that?” Doll just stared at Rebecca walking away. “Ugh, you are literally no fun.” Lizzy turned to her phone, uploading the video she took onto her social media.
Let me know if you want a part 2, K?! (This is my first time writing a fic so please be kind! (^ 3 ^) )
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good-beanswrites · 9 months ago
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hii!! can we get some platonic fuuta amane interactions please? thabks !!!
Ahh yes, thank you so much for the request! I love them so much ;--; They've been making my brain go brrrr lately with T3 possibilities, though I decided to stay away from the drama for now. Here something sweet after T1 verdicts but before the attacks -- they're just hanging out :3
Yuno smiled down at Amane, finding her hunched over a table of craft supplies with Fuuta. The guilty verdict had hit them hard, so it was good to see them in better spirits. She tried to peer over her shoulder to see what they were working on. “Aw, what are you two up to?”
Amane returned her smile. “Fuuta is teaching me to misbehave.”
His face twitched in horror. “Oi, you can’t just go around saying that!” He looked frantically at Yuno. “We’re just folding paper planes.”
Amane lifted her chin. “You said in middle school, you made them to throw in class.”
“I said my friends made them to throw in class. And it’s not like I’m telling you to throw them. I was just making them because there’s nothing better to do in this damned place. You were the one that said it looked fun and sat down to annoy me!”
Fuuta huffed at the accusation as Yuno walked away, laughing. He returned to the design he was folding. He hadn’t been giving an explicit step-by-step for each, but Amane was keeping up just fine. They each had a small pile of various plane designs they were adding to. 
Running a finger along a new crease, he gave Amane a sideways look. “Though, you could stand to misbehave a little bit.”
“I did.” She reached forward to mimic the fold on her own plane. “That is why I’m here.”
“Eh? I don’t mean you should commit crimes!” He scowled. “I’m talking about normal kid stuff, nothing against the law. Like staying out too late, driving your teacher crazy, funny vandalism–”
“--Vandalism is against the law.”
“Oh come on, it’s harmless! Don’t even try to argue that a little graffiti is comparable to what got you here.” He rolled his eyes. “So? What about that other stuff?”
She shook her head. With neither disappointment nor pride, she said, “I never left my home at night. And my teachers were far too strict.” 
“Aw, it’s the strict ones that are the most fun to prank!” He pointed to Amane, adopting the most persuasive voice he could manage. “You gotta do some of these things, or you’ll turn out with a stick up your ass. Like Kotoko, or Mikoto. Or a weirdo like Kazui and Mahiru. Shidou’s more or less normal, and he’s the type of guy to break some rules now and then.”
“And you?” She raised her eyebrows at him, feigning innocence. “I take it you turned out perfectly because you misbehaved as a child?”
“Hey, I never said I was a shining role model or anything. But I mean it. If you stay like this, you’ll grow up to be a boring loser, another cog in the wheel.”
“It is an honor to be a part of something bigger than yourself, to find belonging, and purpose.”
“Tch, don’t be such a pain!”
“I wasn’t.”
“You know that’s not what I was talking about!”
“What were you talking about, then?” She gave him the same expression as before, and wondered if could hide her genuine confusion. 
“Don’t play dumb. I know working in a group is a good thing, but you don’t want to kill yourself for leaders that don’t give a shit about you. That’s a major issue in this country, you know? In government, and corporations, and all that. That’s not belonging, that’s just exploitation.”
Amane stayed silent.
Oblivious to the emotions flashing across her lowered eyes, he nudged her in annoyance. “And the best way to break from that is to loosen up a bit. So have a little fun now and then, jeez!”
She picked her creation off the table. She turned it over in her hands. It had come out perfectly sharp and clean. “I’m having fun now.”
Fuuta, preparing to argue with whatever she said, blinked. “O-oh.” 
“At school, my favorite activities included choir practice and the arts. It has been difficult to sing here without accompaniment, so I am grateful to have the opportunity for crafts.” She looked at him earnestly. “Despite your past of disobedience,” she smirked, “I always enjoy your company.”
His expression twisted up, but he couldn’t hide the reddening of his ears. “What do I care if a brat like you likes my company?”
She smiled. “I’m not a brat. As established, I am very well-behaved.”
“That’s even worse!”
“Tell me about this plane, Fuuta.”
After sufficiently rolling his eyes and sighing, he agreed. He started explaining what made these planes different from the last: how they compared on speed, accuracy, and length of flight. It didn’t really matter if they were just going to toss them around here or the panopticon later, he thought it would be helpful to teach her anyway. Maybe if she ever was inclined, she’d remember which ones were best for pinpointing a teacher’s back, or a warden’s…
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distilled-prose · 8 months ago
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First week in March 1974 ...it was fifty years ago today...
Winter quarter 1974 at the University of Georgia started out bleak and held that attitude for almost eight weeks.  My class schedule included two labs, one being organic chemistry which was an open lab that required daily work all week long.  My days would start in the cold dark and typically ended the same way.  The sun had become a hypothetical concept for me.  It was as if the entirety of the University of Georgia campus had devolved into some dystopian nightmare.  Academically, it was to be the worst quarter of my college career.  But that’s not why it’s memorable.
My roommates and I lived just off campus.  While not excessively removed, it was not walking distance.  But my only transportation was a stripped down 1967 Matchless motorcycle.  On rainy days it was extremely uncomfortable.  On many mornings it was below freezing before dawn and the drive into school was not only uncomfortable, but also exceedingly treacherous.  The days slogged by, dreary, and unrelenting in desolate shades of gray.  It is tremendously difficult to describe the bleakness of it all. However, even with exams looming on the immediate horizon, at the very end of February, Spring ignored the calendar and turned up SEVERAL consecutive gloriously sunny days, days in the mid to high seventy-degree range.  It extended right into March.  The winter quarter darkness had been banished.  Life resumed.  Campus dress immediately took a turn for the better with this long anticipated, most delightful weather.  Everyone was relieved to put their coats away.
Coincidentally, at the same time, reports began filtering in about people in different parts of the country (mostly the south) running through public places without their clothes on. The news reports called it "streaking".  Even Paul Harvey, in his noon time update  ("Stand by for NEWS") mentioned it almost daily. It was like the manias described in medieval times.
Never a campus to be left behind, sightings of Streakers close to home began circulating.  Through classrooms, across quadrangles, through the cafeteria, everything was fair game.  It was all spread by word of mouth, as the internet and cell phones were still decades away.  Coupled with the warm days and evenings, the activity seemed ideally suited for our circumstances.
My roommate (law school) and I (pharmacy school) were visiting friends of ours (“the girls”) at their apartment in a toney part of town.  It was the first Tuesday of the month, March third, less than a week after the weather had gotten so wonderful.  Someone called one of the girls and said there was a streaking event currently in progress at Russel Hall, one of the girl’s high-rise dorms.  So, without much of any kind of delay, we headed right over to check it out.  As reported, there were streakers circling the building and students congregated all around it watching. They were sitting in the grass, enjoying the unseasonably warm evening.  It was well after dark, but jackets weren’t needed.  It must still have been in the low mid sixty-degree range.
Periodically someone would exit the emergency stairwell facing Baxter street and run completely around the building, re-entering where they had started.  While it didn’t seem odd at the time, all the streakers coming out of this girl’s dorm were male. My roommate and I went to check out the source of the excitement.  “The girls” made themselves comfortable on the lawn. There were about a dozen guys, no girls, at the bottom of the stairwell when we arrived.  Guys who were dressed were coming in and also leaving via this one exit door that opened to the side of the dorm facing the street.  The procedure for that night was explained to us by this one guy who seemed to be the major coordinator for this impromptu event. One person would be sent out after they had completely stripped down.  Another person also would be already stripped down and ready to go.  After forty-five seconds or so, maybe a minute, the second person would be sent out while the next person stripped down. The exit door was opened just a bit so the first person could return inside without delay after completing their loop and get dressed.  Although there was no rule (right word?) against it, nobody did a repeat run.  So the spectators had a fairly constant spectacle of new streakers every forty-five to sixty seconds.  Heaven forbid the spectators' interest was allowed to wane! My roommate and I decided to have a go, of course. After we finished our individual loops, got dressed, and came back out, we found our friends, and sat and watched as the night dreamily wore on.  The girls were disappointed they did not recognize us in our moments of glory.  But we didn’t volunteer for a repeat performance.  It was all pretty heady stuff for the mid-seventies!
The campus was ALL abuzz the next day from the previous evening’s escapades.  I’m certain there wasn’t much didactic learning going on that Wednesday.  I certainly don’t remember going to my open lab… By Wednesday early evening the word was out.  The University of Georgia was unofficially organizing to have the world’s largest streaking event on Thursday night, March fifth.  Details were quite fuzzy, but it was supposed to start at the Meyers quad, on the south campus.  I still can’t imagine how it was organized sans cell phones and emails.  But by the end of that day everyone was looking for details.  As Thursday developed, still without the focus on whatever academic major anyone THOUGHT they had, the plans became clear:  Gather at the Meyers Quad and be ready to run by 11 p.m.  The route was to be down Stanford Drive, past the stadium, and up into the Reed Quad.  People had started gathering by 10, and the quad at Meyers was absolutely packed.  One of “the girls” from our group was in the quad, not yet quite certain if she was going to run or not.  A guy asked her why she hadn’t taken her clothes off.  She deflected by asking him the same thing.  He said, “I DO have my clothes off!”  It was that crowded.  She ultimately decided to watch instead of participating. Right about 11 everyone started running.  The street was lined several deep with spectators all along the course.  There were students, of course, and faculty, townsfolk, little children, old people, campus police, city police.  It was quite the spectacle.  Guys streaking outnumbered the girls by about twenty to one, as I recall, and much to my roommate’s and my dismay.  The ending was extremely disorganized with folks wondering if they should put their clothes back on or not.  Some folks had not carried their clothes with them, having left them at the start of the event.  Some dorm residents were dancing naked in their windows in the various Reed Quad dorms. And I’m not certain who did the official counting, but the reports ended up claiming fifteen hundred streakers.  We’d set the record.  We entered the history books.  And I sit here tonight, fifty years later to the day, amazed it all could have happened. (The day of the event, in the UGA school newspaper, Brad McCall posted the cartoon you see below.  It was one of several he did during the build-up and immediate aftermath to that night.)
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@goneahead @thelovelymazza6 @ends-2-beginnings @gorgeous-and-glamorous @littletornado @resistancekitty @frances17
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leafweaverryn · 2 years ago
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*lugs in a very big shitty pot* okay, so i needed something to work on today because my brain was having a hard time focusing on the thing i should have been working on. i asked a couple friends for prompt ideas, and one of them has been on a revolutionary girl utena binge, so he said "utena au" while another friend said "make it lilanette".
so here we are. a very shitty pot. i am dumping and jumping, probably never coming back to this pot. there are notes at the bottom of stuff i was going to include, but didn't get to. be warned, it's been years since i consumed any utena content, so the lore is going to be baaaad
without further ado...
cw - lilanette, Lila Rossi, bad utena au, lots of cussing, and lots of lesbian thoughts
Only one thing made the school gossip about more than they do over who has the rose bride.
Transfer students were rare, short-lived, and were talked about more than the yearly newbloods. At least the academy freshmen knew what they were getting into; transfers seldom did. Their innocence, their ignorance of the carnivorous academia aws always something to behold, and bets were often placed on how long before the transfers ran or died. Underclassmen would race to be the first to meet them; upperclassmen knew it was only a matter of time.
When Marinette saw her first, the upperclassman felt… curious. Not hopeful or pity as she normally did, but curious, as if she had found a stray little glass animal, a missing part of a larger set yet to be discovered and collected. Originally, she had been taking papers between teachers, but seeing her made Marinette change her path, go out of her way for a closer look.
As if something tied to her breast was pulling her.
The transfer wasn’t in uniform yet. She was tall, but her platform boots could be the culprit for that, rather than the natural length of her legs. Her limbs, however, were slender and willowy, and she had a strut like a model, as if she knew she was being admired. Marinette kept her distance, and when the transfer stepped into an elevator, turning the interior red with her hair and clothes, the upperclassman didn’t try to follow.
Instead, she leaned on the bannister and watched the transfer ascend to the dorms. Shaking her head, Marinette walked away, writing off the encounter and dismissing it from her memory.
Someone else can have the bragging rights of meeting her first…
She already has a target on her back…
Meeting me would just give the others a reason to pull the trigger.
~~~
If Lila was sure of anything, it was that this is the weirdest fucking university I’ve attended yet!
For one, it was a castle and a city, self-sustaining and closed off from the rest of the world like a dream. That she didn’t mind. What woman didn’t want to live in a castle? Her only regret was that she didn’t have the luggage space to pack all of her gowns and dresses, but surely there’s a mall here somewhere! This place has everything else. Garden, dining hall, ballrooms, a labyrinthian library… The dorms were also very nice, as one would expect from a castle-city-school, with every student from the lowly freshmen to the higher echelon in doctorate programs had their own room, as spacious and well furnished as a small apartment. Lila was not one who enjoyed sharing, regardless if it were a pencil or shower.
She had no complaints about the uniforms either. The dress code was lax in its terms, allowing her to mix and match pieces so long as she was consistent and wearing the university’s rose emblem. For her day-to-day uniform, Lila opted for a red jacket with black detailing and lacy trim, and a matching red pleated skirt. Her usual platforms were restricted to only after-class hours and weekends, leaving her feeling shorter in the standard flats. There were no rules for hair color or styling, which she saw some of her classmates took advantage of with a small handful who dyed theirs. Her wearing of the uniform turned heads in the halls, though that could also be because I’m so beautiful, she thought with a flick of her hair and a smile.
The classes were standard fare, with a few eccentric electives and unusual programs in the listings, but she’d arranged her class schedule so that she was able to have a few free hours after breakfast and around lunch. She was halfway to her third major graduate degree, and the extracurriculars sounded like a fun little challenge that she signed up to a few without really thinking very hard about what they were.
No, what struck Lila as the most weird thing about her new university was the student body itself.
Never, in any of her years going to college, university, grad school, whatever, had she been to a place where a dozen or so of her classmates were armed with swords!
At first, when she saw one young woman with a katana, Lila didn’t care. She shrugged it off as a weirdo being a weirdo who only got away with it because who bullies a woman with a live-steel katana, no thank you. But then she saw a pair of blonds with rapiers, and a pair of goths with pirate sabres, and annoyance bubbled and seethed to the surface, barely caught before she could whine to the nearest professor, “Why do they get swords?! I want a sword! Why can’t I have a sword?!”
Day one, Lila had a mission.
Usually it was to find the head bitch in charge of the student social ladder and go straight for the kidneys, or clitoris depending on how the bitch in question swung, but the moment Lila stepped into the castle, even before she put on the uniform and got lost in the sea of bodies between classes, she knew that here, the game was different.
Very different.
Perhaps even… a little dangerous. 
She squealed at the thought.
Her mission to start was reconnaissance. Observation. Gather information to fill in the blanks she came in with. Lila didn’t like not knowing anything, but even she was willing to admit that she was at a disadvantage. So against her usual methods, she instead laid low and let the information come to her.
The first opportunity presented itself during afternoon break that same day. 
Lila was one of the first to arrive at the cafeteria, getting a cup of tea, a light cucumber sandwich, and a couple of macarons before she took her seat at a corner table where she could watch the door, her back to the wall. She was also very obvious, in a place where she herself could be seen; she wanted the others to see her, so she could judge them appropriately.
And it was very obvious what the other students thought of her.
Each and every one of them would pause, look at her, then scuttle away, whispering between one another. They would look at her again and again, but were never brave enough to approach her directly.
She bit back a scowl as she sipped her tea.
I’m an animal at a zoo, Lila thought darkly. Something to be stared at and whispered about to her face, as if she can’t understand. Peasants. Go on and whisper. Say what you will. As soon as my claws are sharp enough, I’m breaking out of my cage and clawing my place to where I belong at the top, queen of this antique jungle.
But no sooner had the thought finished did a classmate approach her table. Lila assessed her in a flash. There was an edge to the blonde, one that made Lila want to lick her fangs and grin. The fact she was wearing the sleek jacket and pants version of the school uniform only added to her regal presence. Her jacket was gold satin that shimmered when she moved, and her golden hair was pulled back in a high ponytail. This was one of the armed students, with a silver rapier at her hip. Behind her, a red-head in the standard puffy sleeves and skirt uniform and buggy-eyed glasses hid in her lady’s shadow.
The golden blonde smiled as sweetly as honey laced with venom.
“Oh!” she chirped. “You must be the new transfer!”
No shit, Sherlock. Lila smiled. “I am.”
She clapped excitedly. “Oh wonderful! Why don’t you join me at my table? The view is much better.”
“I’d be delighted!”
Lila stood, but when she reached for her tray, the blonde stopped her, “No no no, don’t worry about that!” Her pretty blue eyes went to the plain young woman beside her as she clapped her hands again. “Bibi, get her tray.”
Without a sound, the plain spectacled woman picked up Lila’s tray. The blonde giggled and offered her elbow, which Lila accepted without hesitation. As if they were a couple at a promenade, the blonde took her time in leading Lila through the bustling cafeteria.
“So what is your name, pretty ruby?” the blond asked, side-eyeing the woman on her arm.
She framed her face and gestured as she answered, “I am Countess Lilaousia de Francesca Emelia Catharine Rossi the Third…” Her hand slid along the blonde’s arm in her hold. “But I will let you call me Lila.”
“Mmm, never heard of you,” purred the blonde. “But then again, I’ve never been to Spain.”
“Italy,” Lila corrected.
“Whatever.”
Bitch.
The blonde led her to a table on a dias that did admittedly have a better view of the cafeteria. There were three other tables on the raised platform, all unoccupied. Quickly, the plain woman scurred to set Lila’s tray down, careful not to jostle the contents, then pulled out a chair for the blonde and one for Lila.
As she sat, the blonde continued, “I am Chloe, and this,” she gestured to the bug-eyed woman, “is my Sabrina. You can talk to her as you see fit, but you can only use her as a servant when I’m around.”
Lila’s eyes glittered in interest as she sat, looking between them. “The underclassmen serve the upperclassmen here? How fascinating.”
“No.” The word cut hard, and Chloe narrowed her eyes on Lila. “Bibi is mine because I won her. Simple as that. If you want your classmates to serve you, you have to earn it.”
She only smiled, mentally noting the other woman’s defensiveness. Like herself, Chloe was not a woman who enjoyed sharing. At first thought, the idea of “owning” her fellow classmates was boring, but the more Lila chewed on the idea… 
There was one pretty little thing Lila had seen on her way to the dorms earlier. Short, slender, ebony hair… Lila was disappointed that she didn’t get to see the young woman’s eyes, but her body, in the puffy sleeves and uniform skirt, left little to be desired, save that the clothes were removed to give her imagination a break.
The “pretty ruby” gestured vaguely at Chloe with her teaspoon. “Is that what the sword thing is all about? So you and the others can fight over your classmates and collect them like trading cards? I do wonder, is there a weekly swap day? How do you rank your little prizes? I hope it’s not by how many you have, because if Miss Bibi is your only one, I have to wonder at your skills when it comes to… penetration.”
At Chloe’s elbow, Sabrina blushed and snickered, but went silent at a glare. 
“Yes and no,” Chloe hummed to her tea. “Some do, and I’d suggest you learn how to mind that tongue of yours, since you are also fair game… But the prize, the true prize is the rose bride.”
“I beg your pardon… Whomst?”
~~~
edit: oh god i made another one
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dycefic · 3 years ago
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Have An Evil Day
No prompt this time, just a sequel to ‘Welcome To Evil-Mart’
Working at Evil-Mart is usually… well, it’s retail. It’s physically exhausting, you have to deal with a lot of idiots without being overtly rude, and your feet hurt. Even though the hours and pay are very good, the benefits are great, and our bosses treat us well compared to most retail employees, it’s still not what I’d call a fun job.
But it’s not what I’d call dull, either. Especially not on days like today.
I was promoted to supervisor after the Food Poisoning Incident, so I have a little more authority and a little less obligation to be pleasant and I got issued a weighted cosh because sometimes Evil-Mart customers get… feisty. I’d never had to use it, though, because those who hadn’t seen what I did to Majority Rules, either in person or on one of the cell-phone videos that circulated afterwards, had at least heard about it.  They didn’t give me any trouble.
I was halfway through my shift, and the worst things that’d happened had been running out of croissants and a machine oil spill in Aisle Seven, when our greeter pressed the alarm button, which sent an alert to my handset. As front-end supervisor, that meant me, so I went over. Sam, who is unusual in the henching community for having actually aged out rather than ‘being retired’ jerked his chin in the direction of a tall, swaggering figure. “He just came in,” he whispered.
I did a full double-take before I took it in. Superdyne. Fucking Superdyne.
We’d all heard about his dramatic heel-turn a couple of months ago. The whole world had heard about it. Superdyne, who’d skated closer and closer to the line for years, had decided to cross it in a blaze of bloodshed. He was a villain now, he said. There’d been a whole speech about how ingratitude had driven him to it blah blah blah.
I work at Evil-Mart. I’m from a hench family. If someone becomes a supervillain because they hate Mondays or want to turn us all into dinosaurs or whatever, I don’t judge. I will sell depth-charges and laser guns to anyone who can prove they’re over eighteen without hesitation. But even we get kind of grossed out by the ‘I am forced to turn evil because I haven’t been given enough love’ thing. People who are actually so fucked up by emotional abuse or neglect or some superhero killing their family, we’re fine with them. But they don’t say that’s why they do it, and most of them need a lot of therapy to even realize it. People who actually say that’s why are entitled dickwads.
And now the dickwad had walked into Evil-Mart like he was entitled. Like he thought he was one of us.
“Lockdown protocols,” I told Sam quietly. “On my authorisation.” That takes a minute or two, though, so I went over to talk to Superdyne. “Sir, I have to ask how you even knew where to find this place.”
He smirked at me. “I have my ways,” he said smugly. He’d either bribed or beaten someone, that was my guess. “So this is where the villains shop? We all thought you went to Wal-Mart.” He laughed, like he thought it was clever.
“Yes, so you all say,” I said dryly. I didn’t feel like pretending he was the first person to make the bad joke. “My next question, sir, is what made you think it was a good idea to come in here.”
He spread his hands. “I’m one of you now!” he said happily. “I’m a bad guy! So now I guess I shop where the bad guys shop!” He looked around, frowning a little. “Although I was expecting more weapons and explosives. A… more villainous atmosphere. I didn’t know Evil-Mart had fresh produce.”
“I don’t advise buying herbs here unless you’re a magical practitioner. Some of them have… unusual effects.” A lot of our produce is normal stuff, but some of it not only isn’t legal, it doesn’t exist anywhere else.
“Oh. Well, that makes sense. But the bright lights and the bakery?”
“We have excellent gluten-free breads. In many ways, Superdyne, this is just another store. We have sales, we mark down the breads in the afternoon, we even have a PA system.” I pulled out my handset, and thumbed the button that tied it to the PA. “Attention, shoppers,” I said in my most soothing Customer Service voice, which made him grin. “Evil-Mart wishes to inform you – “ The countdown on my handset reached zero, and I turned to look at the entrance as a huge blast door thudded down. That was the last part of the sequence – staff outside the area were already in lockdown and security were on their way. I smiled, and continued almost without a pause. “- That we are in lockdown at this time, due to the presence of Superdyne in the store. Please remain calm, and be advised that security are on their way to deal with the problem. If you have a personal grudge that you wish to address with Superdyne at this time, he is standing near Register Six with a stupid expression on his face.”
He was staring at me, stunned. “But… but…” he stammered, and damned if he didn’t look puzzled. “But I’m one of you now!”
“No,” I said flatly. “You were always evil, that’s true, but you’ll never be one of us. And for the record, I’m one of the people with a personal grudge. All those henchmen you’ve killed and maimed had families, asshole… and they all shop here.”
He swung at me, then, but I spent years in hench training. Even someone super-strong can be dodged, and once I slammed my cosh into his groin a few times his punches got a lot more aimless. Around then, Tiger Ty came over the register, claws out and snarling, and I figured I should stand out of the way.
About ten minutes later, I turned on the PA again. “Clean-up to Register Six,” I called, in the same special voice. “Category 7, class three. Shoppers, please be advised that lockdown is now lifted but Register Six will be closed until clean-up is completed.”
Hunter, who’d been working Register Six, came out from underneath it. He looked a little green. Well, he was still in his teens, this was probably his first fatal mobbing. “What’s Category 7?” he asked in a shaky voice. “I haven’t heard that before.”
“Biohazard.”
“Oh. Class three?”
“Send three people. He was a juicy one.” I stepped away from a spreading puddle of blood. “Run and get a couple of caution signs we can put around this mess.” I eyed it measuringly. “And one of those fifteen-gallon plastic tubs with a lid, I’ll damage it out.”
He eyed the mess. “Are you sure that’s big enough?”
“Yeah, the average human is only about seventeen gallons by volume, and I’m not going to put all the blood and mush in there, just the big pieces.”
He gulped. “Ah. Yes, ma���am.”
I called after him when he ran off. “One of the black tubs, not a clear one!” Which honestly should only be common sense, but you can’t count on a flustered teenager to have common sense.
We frown on killing customers at Evil-Mart, up to a point… but when a particularly murderous super-hero walks into our store, well, that’s something else. I’d have to fill out a ton of paperwork, though.
I had to chase off one of Doctor Malign’s minons and two members of the Genetic Reign before the clean-up crew arrived, both of whom urgently wanted samples. In the end I scraped a few pieces of liver and unidentified organ into two of the bags we use for possibly-contaminated money just to make them go away. (They’re good customers, and it was just going to go in the trash anyway.)
By the time the clean-up was done, all the big pieces were boxed up, and I’d finished the paperwork, my shift had been over for twenty minutes, and I’d been asked to come up to the boss’s office.
“Listen, I have no issues with how you handled the situation, I want you to know that.” Mr Trent leaned back in his chair, tapping his fingertips together. “It was quick, it was efficient, and… given your personal history with Superdyne, not to mention mine and that of half of our customer base… richly deserved.”
“Yes, sir,” I said. It came out too meek, and I cleared my throat and straightened up. It’s hard not to be intimidated by Mr Trent, when you’re in the same room with him. It’s not his fault, and he does his best, but even under the strictest control his fear-inducing powers tend to unsettle anyone who gets too close. We all know he’s not doing it on purpose and we try not to show our reactions. “Do you have any orders regarding the remains?”
“Doctor Order wants them.” He rubbed his chin. “Get someone from the pharmacy to prepare samples for him, please, including brain tissue. He’s our primary supplier, and we can’t offend him. As for the rest… as you know, I’m retired, and I don’t usually participate in the Endless War.” One of his hands dropped to his left thigh. His prosthetic leg is some of Doctor Order’s best work, but the injury that led to his retirement had been brutal even by our standards. “But this is different. Superdyne came here. To our place of safety. We need to make sure that doesn’t happen again.”
I nodded. “Do you want the remains dumped somewhere public? Some kind of dramatic display?”
“No. Something more direct.” He rubbed his chin again, then tapped the intercom on his desk. “Iris, please send up Miss Fedorova from Marketing and Mr Levy from the warehouse.”
“Yes, sir,” Iris responded, and he clicked off the intercom again.
“The three of you worked together very well, during the food poisoning incident,” he explained. “And I believe they can assist us in a satisfactory conclusion.” He hesitated, then smiled ruefully. “Perhaps you should wait outside until they get here. I can tell I’m unsettling you.”
“Sir, I know you’re not – “
“Not doing it on purpose.” He sighed. “I do appreciate how hard you all work to make me feel… accepted, I really do. But I’m very annoyed right now, which makes control more difficult for me, so I think we’d both be more relaxed if you waited outside while I do my meditation exercises.”
I waited outside. When the three of us went into his office again, the miasma of low-level fear was definitely a bit lighter, and he smiled. “All right. Now, this conversation is going to be very confidential, and I will remind you all of the agreements you signed when you were employed.” We all chorused agreement, and he nodded. “Good. Now, this is very much a secret, even among Evil-Mart staff, but we do have a few online clients who are… ah… on the other side of the fence.”
Ms Fedorova blinked. “What?”
Knuckles sighed. “We ship to a few heroes,” he explained. “The ones who are… less homo than sapiens, if you get my drift.”
I didn’t, and from her expression Ms Fedorova didn’t either. Mr Trent spread his hands, drawing our eyes to his fingers. Which as a rule nobody looks at, because there’s fourteen of them, with four joints in each finger, and we know he’s self-conscious about it. “The less… purely human ones,” he said quietly. “One of the reasons I created Evil-Mart was to give those who can’t pass for human, like me, a place to be… people. To have dignity. So that the obligate carnivores weren’t reduced to living on pet-food or scavenging for scraps, so that those with complex metabolisms could get the supplements they need so that people who are still people, for all their outward differences, could shop in safety. There are a great many more monsters, demigods, abominations of science and other non-standard persons among our set than among the heroes, and I wanted to meet their needs, as well as selling weapons and Lair-away-from-home sets and so on.”
“And there are a few heroes who order from us for that reason,” Knuckles added. “The ones who can’t get medications to suit their metabolism, or need to eat things that you can’t get easily anywhere else.”
I nodded, because that much I understood. We have some very esoteric ‘dietary supplies’ that start with fresh, healthy, well-treated and disease-free prey animals frozen whole (from mouse up to calf and goat kept in stock, larger sizes by pre-order, halal and kosher certified where possible) and end with human blood (rejected blood bank stock mostly, we have an arrangement), and human flesh and organs (sourced from hospitals, morgues and crematoriums, guaranteed no murder, at least not by us). “Well, I suppose that makes sense. I’m surprised we ship to them, though.”
“Oh, they don’t know we know. It’s all assumed names and secret bank accounts.” Knuckles grinned. “But Mr Trent has all our online customers identified before we ship. And for the ones who don’t have any other options, well… we let it slide.”
“I can see why you don’t want that to get out.” Ms Fedorova tapped her chin. “What does this have to do with disposing of the body? I was planning to set up a really ghoulish display in a public place somewhere, I already have some sketches.” Marketing for Evil-Mart is… well, it includes more than designing our sale flyers.
“No. We’re going to deliver them to a hero… one of the ones who owes us… and make it very clear that just because someone decides to admit he’s a villain, that doesn’t make him one of us and it doesn’t entitle him to union services,” Mr Trent said flatly. “I want to make it crystal clear to all of them that a heel turn does not mean their sins are forgiven, or that we will accept them as anything other than a very brief amusement.”
Late that night – we were all on overtime, but it couldn’t be done in daylight – we wheeled a cart down the run-down hallway of a shoddy apartment building. “This is a terrible address for a hero,” Ms Fedorova muttered. “Are we sure he lives here?”
“I deliver here a couple of times a month.” Knuckles was pushing the cart. “I’m sure.”
“Okay.” Ms Fedorova cleared her throat, coughed once or twice, and suddenly her voice was deeper and her very faint Russian accent was as thick as pea soup. “This is intimidation tactic,” she said, grinning toothily. “Do not act surprised.”
I knocked on the door, but let Knuckles do the talking. “Delivery, Mr West,” he called, using the fake name the guy had been giving.
It worked… the door was unlocked and opened almost immediately. “I scheduled the order for next – “ the mark said, and then we were pushing inside, slamming the door behind us.
“Do not be alarmed, Mr… Dinoid, is it?” Ms Fedorova said, folding her arms. “Evil-Mart is knowing all along your real identity. But you are needing to eat, and we are not turning down regular business, so we make no trouble.”
Knuckles rolled his eyes behind her back at how much she was hamming it up, but I waved a hand. Let her have her fun. So Knuckles started unloading the boxes onto the table while she talked. “First, your Budget Bunny Box. Your favourite, da?” The next box, smaller, plunked down. “Two fresh chickens, halal certified, healthy and having lived good life, gift for good customer.” Knuckles dumped the plastic tub on the floor. “And mortal remains of Superdyne, with note.”
Dinoid was staring at us, but that made him shift into a combat stance, his long claws spread. “The… Superdyne’s dead? And in there?”
“Well. Most of him. The big pieces.” Ms Fedorova shrugged an impressively Russian shrug. I hadn’t even known that was a thing, but when she did it, it was obvious. “You must understand, when a mob tears a man apart, it is hard to find every little piece.”
“I’m pretty sure Doctor Malign and the Genetic Reign took off with doggy bags,” I said, as if I hadn’t handed them over myself. “And Doctor Order probably has some of him too, by now. So looking out for clones would be a good idea, I don’t know if that’s in the note.”
Insofar as that reptilian face could show readable expressions, he looked shocked. “Why on earth would… why? He changed sides? And why did you bring him to me?”
“We know your address, we know you don’t want to turn us in because we’re the only ones who can supply your meals, and our boss wanted us to make this very clear.” I indicated the note. Since Ms Fedorova was hamming up her Sexy Russian Supervillain act, and Knuckles was very obvious Muscle, I figured it was on me to be the Reasonable One. “He might have stopped being a hero, but that didn’t make him one of us. That didn’t make him acceptable to us. Our boss wants it made very clear that your failures shouldn’t expect to be accepted by us… or even spared by us.”
He shifted slowly, the tip of his tail twitching. “I… see. I understand why you would reject Superdyne. He was notorious for killing and maiming people on… your side. But I know other defectors have been accepted. Philomel, for example.”
“Philomel was child of villains. She is young, she is rebellious, she sides with heroes for a while.” Ms Fedorova shrugged. “Is understandable, da? The young do foolish things. She comes home, all is forgiven.”
He nodded slowly. “Tenebrous?”
“That story I don’t know.” Ms Fedorova glanced at me.
I nodded. “Tenebrous was just a kid. He was twelve when Varide recruited him. Nineteen when he broke with the guy. Varide put a kid into combat, left him with massive PTSD, then ditched him when he had a breakdown and went too far. Mx Frantique at least made sure he had a safe place to stay and some therapy.”
“It’s happened a few times.” Knuckles rested his elbows on the cart’s handles, his inhumanly big, strong hands dangling. “But there’s a process. A system. If someone’s sponsored by a villain in good standing, like Frantique sponsoring Tenbrous, they can be accepted. Nobody gets to just choose to join. Especially not a smug, entitled prick like Superdyne.”
Ms Fedorova suddenly leaned forward, scowling. “And why are you called Dinoid? You are not dinosaur. You are clearly monitor lizard. Golden monitor, I think.” She reached out and prodded his arm. “And not healthy, either. Look at colouration! You do not keep environment humid enough. Are having trouble with shedding, da?”
Now we were all staring at her. “You’re a lizard expert now?” Knuckles asked.
She shrugged. “What? Is hobby. Mamma’s little Varanus Acanthurus are pride and joy. Sadly, cannot keep larger monitors in city. Is unkind.”
Dinoid ran a hand over his head slowly. “Not many people realize,” he said slowly. “That’s why I order from you guys. I used to get frozen… food… from a pet supplier, but then I got contacted by someone who told me there was another option.”
“Is good thing. Those pet suppliers, they are rogues. They do not keep animals healthy, can get diseases or mites from those things.” Ms Fedorova sniffed. “I would never buy from them. My babies would get sick.”
He actually chuckled, then, seeming to relax a bit. “You’re not wrong. After… this happened… I got really sick a couple of times before I figured out what to eat, and where to get it. And even the reputable suppliers don’t always have the healthiest stock.” He opened his mouth wide, making a gagging noise. “You have no idea how bad that ‘reptile food’ is. Eating whole animals may be a little disgusting, but it’s nothing to some of that stuff.”
“I believe it,” I said emphatically. “There’s a reason Evil-Mart has such an extensive pet-food line. The horror stories we hear from some of our customers… well, you’d believe it, I bet, but most humans just look confused.”
Knuckles nodded, and spread his hands. “People who can’t pass for regular humans… or even for people, the way most normies see it… are a lot more common on our side of the fence than yours. That’s why we delivered to you. We figured you really needed it.”
“Does he order from the pharmacy?” Ms Fedorova was around behind him now, examining his back. “He is having calcium deficiency, am betting. He needs nutritional supplement.”
“I take a nutritional supplement,” he said defensively.
“The one for normal-sized lizards is not enough for man-sized monitor/human hybrid,” she said firmly. “Check pharmacy section next time. We are having excellent selection of supplements for hybrids, and chart to tell you how much to take for body-mass.”
He looked back and forth between the three of us. “You people are… not what I would have expected from an evil supermarket.”
“We may be… morally challenged,” I said, shrugging, “but we’re not heartless.” I looked around his tiny, shabby apartment. “Unlike some of your lot. I thought you were on a team. Why are you living here?”
He ducked his head. “I couldn’t live at the base,” he said, his tail drooping. “My… I made people uncomfortable. And the stipend isn’t much.”
“Isn’t much? With the merchandising deals they have?” Ms Fedorova sounded shocked, and the accent had dropped back a lot. “I know for a fact that if the accountants ever got hold of their books they’d owe more in back taxes than… well, than Evil-Mart would if our illegal product arm ever got discovered. And we pay our taxes on the legitimate stuff scrupulously.”
Dinoid blinked rapidly, though I couldn’t tell whether he was more surprised by her suddenly dropping her act or the idea that Evil-Mart pays taxes. “You do?”
“Of course. Not under that name, of course, there’s a shell company.” She sniffed. “All villains do. Al Capone, you know. We’re not getting caught that way again.”
Knuckles and I both nodded when he looked at us, and he shook his head. “Huh. Makes sense, I guess.”
“It does.” I looked around again. The place really was crappy. “I know it’s a personal question, Mr… West, but under the circumstances I’d like to know… how much is that stipend?”
He looked down at the floor for a while, then cleared his throat. “Uh. $1100 a month.”
We all stared at him. Ms Fedorova’s mouth fell open. Knuckles looked shocked, and I was horrified. “$1100 a month?!” I asked, my voice coming out louder than I’d intended. “For risking your life on a superhero team?! I have teenaged cashiers working part-time who make more than that!”
He looked almost as startled as we did. “For working a cash register?!”
“Evil-Mart pays pretty good.” Knuckles shrugged. “But that stipend is disgusting.”
“You are being exploited,” Ms Fedorova said, sounding really aghast. “That is terrible. Why, baseline henchman pay is twice that, and there are danger bonuses and…” Her voice dropped suddenly. “You don’t have a union, do you?”
“A union? Of course we don’t have a…” He trailed off. “You mean you do?”
“Of course we do. An extremely well-armed one.” Ms Fedorova folded her arms. “Henchmen And Allied Industries has represented us for generations. The last time a supervillain executed a union henchman for failure, he was boiled in oil… literally. On camera. Oh, of course some of the less reputable villains just pick up small-time trash from the streets, untrained rabble from the gangs and so on, so they can treat them as disposable, but we union members are skilled workers, with rights and protections. I bet you don’t even get overtime.”
“Of course not. Crime happens when it happens, and we have to…” He trailed off. “You guys get overtime?”
“We’re getting double time and a half for this conversation. And an extra day off.”
His eyes widened again. “Really? Wow, that’s… even when I was working a regular job, before this, I didn’t get pay like that.” He looked down at his hands and bared his teeth in what looked like an unhappy expression. “And now I can’t work anything but this kind of job. People don’t like having a scary dinosaur in their restaurant.”
There was a long pause.
“You can cook?” Ms Fedorova asked carefully.
“Yeah. I worked in my parents’ restaurant before… this.” He gestured at himself. “They were killed when we were attacked, and I was… changed.”
We all looked at each other. “After you’ve returned Superdyne’s remains to whoever you consider appropriate,” I said, grabbing a notepad and scribbling down my number, “I’d like you to give me a call. Evil-Mart is always hiring in the bakery and deli, and I mean always. Most bad guys aren’t great cooks. We don’t know why, it just seems to be one of those things.”
“You want me to join the bad guys?”
“I want you to work in a bakery. Villains and henchmen need to eat, and so do their families. Nobody’s going to ask you to rip superheroes in half, just maybe make a sandwich that won’t give anyone food poisoning.”
“That’s a regular concern?”
“Six months ago the three of us ran Evil-Mart’s physical store completely unassisted for most of a day because the only people who weren’t down with food poisoning were the ones who’d had the vegetarian and kosher meals.” I shuddered at the recollection. “Trust me. Someone who can cater staff functions without a major disaster would never have to live in an apartment like this working for us.”
“And we get full benefits, including dental.” Knuckles was shaking his head. “I bet you don’t even get hospital.”
“What hospital would take me? I always figured I’d go to the zoo and talk to the vet if – “
Ms Fedorova actually put her arms around him. “You,” she told him firmly, “are going to resign your terrible exploitative job, and then I will personally sponsor you to the union immediately. I have a spare room. You will like it. Humidity and temperature can be set just how you like, and Mamma Yelena will take you to real doctor expert in health of hybrids.”
“Those exist?” he asked, sounding a bit overwhelmed.
“Yeah, the Genetic Reign has like three of them,” I said sympathetically. “Listen, you can take some time to think it over, but you don’t have to put up with this kind of exploitation just because you don’t look human. Nearly a third of Evil-Mart’s staff can’t pass, and they’re treated just like everyone else.”
Superdyne’s dramatic demise got a lot of news coverage. Apparently it came as a real shock to the ‘good guys’ that there were some monsters even the superest villains wouldn’t embrace.
Dinoid no longer exists. Ismail Jameel works at Evil-Mart, and has expanded our fresh food lines a lot already. He’s a nice guy, and after Ms Fedorova told everyone how disgustingly he’d been exploited by those so-called ‘heroes’, he was welcomed with open arms. Literally, in at least one case – he’s dating someone from the warehouse, I’ve heard, though I don’t know who. He says we should rename the store, because we suck at being evil.
But evil is a really relative term. It can mean the blackest depravity, or a moment of viciousness, or even just ‘people on the other side’. Evil-Mart is called that because everyone, at least everyone on our side, is welcome. Plus, we all think it’s funny that the least-evil megacorporation is called ‘Evil-Mart’. What can we say? Bad guys have a sense of humour too.
Have an evil day!
7K notes · View notes
whatifyoulivelikethat · 3 years ago
Text
twelve hours, m | jjk | ... and now
pairing(s): jungkook x reader
summary: You have twelve hours to make Jeon Jungkook fall in love with you. He's about to get married. You're the entertainment at his bachelor party - a burlesque dancer. Long ago, he used to be the class representative and you used to be the class delinquent. Nothing has changed and, yet, everything has.
this is part ii | click here for part i | total wc: 23k
warnings: rated M (18+) for language; this story contains parental child abuse and graphic violence, including the reader becoming physically scarred and having panic attacks; rich, this bachelor party is on a fuckin' YACHT, the best man is LOADED; JK and reader interacted in high school; angst and fluff and feels; cheating; this is mostly smut XD; (in part i) high school smut + intense adult smut (fem reader, striptease, semi-public sex at school, nipple play (he's a bit obsessed with them), dry humping, m-masturbation, handjob, cumming on tits (and diamonds), cum-eating, mirror kink, spitting, tit fucking, m-receiving oral, scratching / biting / marking, penetrative sex, doggy); shifts back and forth between Jungkook’s POV and your POV
non-idol!AU; film director!Jungkook x wealthy, burlesque dancer!reader — ft best man, art trader!Kim Taehyung; dancer's bodyguard!Kim Namjoon and bodyguard!Kim Seokjin
> eyebrow pierced, tattooed, and long black-haired JK (with undercut) in a black suit because that's what we need in this life > look for TXT's 'you and me and the sky at 5:53' :)
--
time left: 06:49
No.
Don’t leave me.
It was the same then as it was now.
Jungkook reached out and grabbed her arm, pulling her back to him. Her eyes widened, pivoting quickly on her toe, snapping her heel down and cutting the turn short, black skirt flaring out. The swift glimpse of her legs in the high slit, the gentle bounce of her breasts in the slinky fabric. Her manicured hair bounced, dyed blue-black and giving her skin a surreal quality.
He held on.
Please don’t disappear.
“What?”
Her brows knitted together. She didn’t pull her arm away, but she was steadfast in her posture, not letting him push her around. Not that he ever could.
“He asked me to escort you back,” Jungkook found himself saying. “If not for your sake, then for his peace of mind. I don’t want to be a liar.”
Her features softened.
His fingers around her arm, touching that soft skin once more.
I care. I care a lot.
Jungkook realized that, in a way, he had never moved past those classrooms, those touches, those kisses, those moments.
“You can let go now.”
She said it patiently. Always patient with him despite his overzealous and sometimes clumsy antics, putting up with it even when she didn’t have to. He looked into those eyes and found those walls were falling away, little by little. Winged liner, red lipstick, it didn’t matter, it was the same expression, defiant eyes and hint of a scowl on those lips. Ready to fight, but not him.
She was always a fighter and the opponent was always life itself.
“I don’t want to let go.”
He didn’t expect himself to say the truth, but he did.
She smirked, reaching up, her fingers covering his tattoos for a moment, placing them on the back of his hand. This warmth. This feeling. It was not the same as the rest, and he knew that now.
“Hm, well, you must realize this looks a bit awkward. You wouldn’t want to give anyone the wrong impression, would you?”
Wouldn't want someone to see you talking to me, right?
“You will let me escort you?” he insisted.
She pried his hand from her arm and lowered it, turning the other way.
“You are welcome to do as you like. I won’t stop you, golden boy.”
-
time left: 06:41
He followed you, surrounded by moonlight reflecting off water.
It streamed through the windows, lighting the red carpeted hall along with the dim sconces. You found yourself stepping in each lighted square, avoiding the thin dark beams of the windows, a little game for yourself, like how children avoided the cracks in the concrete sidewalks, except you were on a lavish yacht wearing Louboutins with a handsome man in step behind you.
It was quiet and yet it wasn’t. Small sounds, footsteps, distant muffles of talking through the walls, the faint sound of bass as you walked away from the party, the sound of the ocean ever present, your own breathing.
Jungkook’s breathing.
Familiar.
Once yours.
You looked to your right, to the window, seeing his reflection. His profile, hands in his pockets, tattooed arm standing out against the black background of his clothes, dressed formally but always a bit sheepish about it, as if he wasn’t sure if it looked good on him, but it always did, even the school uniform. He still had the youthfulness about him, even as a man.
Your eyes found his and he was watching your face in the glass of the window.
You stopped abruptly, pivoting on one heel to face him.
Impulse.
Your younger self would have bristled, glaring, accusing the eyes and snapping, what are you looking at?
Jungkook started, realizing you had noticed, and tripped, his black hair suddenly disturbed and tumbling over his eyes as he struggled to catch himself, hands flying out of his pockets.
You caught one, lacing your fingers with his, and gripped tightly, yanking up.
He righted himself, gasping. Looking up, bent over and long legs awkward, somewhat like a fawn trying to get on its legs for the first time. Those big brown eyes, parted pink lips. Familiar.
Your joined hands fell exactly where the window beam was, shrouded in shadow.
“Something on your mind?” you chuckled, shaking your head.
He straightened. You loosened your grip on his hand, but he held on. You frowned slightly, raising your brows.
He swallowed hard.
“Can I hold your hand? Please.”
Back then, you would hold his hand, hiding behind corners and dashing past, holding your breath, light steps, leaping from shadow to shadow, bodies close, breath mixing. Showing him all the secrets of the school that you had found while wandering, a fun little game with a reward at the end, school uniform being shed, skin to skin, his body against yours, his heartbeat in time with yours, his lips on yours.
You shrugged and turned back around, his hand tightly around yours.
-
time left: 06:35
Jungkook held her hand.
In an instant, he looked down, staring at their joined hands.
This was different.
And then he saw them.
Scars, all over the back of her hand. He could feel the scar tissue on her palms too, lines on her fingers even though she was holding him loosely. He had memorized every centimeter of her beautiful hands from back then, and these lines were not here before. These were not scars from living life. These had been cuts, healed now, unseen from far away and even up close. Perhaps they had been filled in with tattoo ink in a color to match her skin tone so they were less noticeable.
No one would know unless they were holding her hand or looking for it.
Without knowing it, Jungkook clutched her hand tighter, a sudden ache in his chest.
He had found bruises on her sometimes.
I fell down the stairs. It's nothing.
He had found welts.
Stupid fight with some dumbass.
He had found a criss-cross pattern of cuts on her leg.
I tried to jump over a fence and fucked up.
He glanced at her other hand loosely by her side. The same. He could even see her palm and there were many, many lines, all over her palm, healed cuts. Drugs? But he knew it wasn’t. Not because he had a romanticized idea of who she would be in his head, but because that was the nice answer.
That was the reasonable answer.
“Oh!”
“Excuse me, miss.”
His eyes flickered upward to see a young woman in a short midnight blue dress pausing, looking from her to him, cheeks flushed, not being subtle about it. The glittery fabric picked up the moonlight, accenting her curves and long legs. Pretty.
But not sensual.
Not immaculate.
Not teasing and sculptural.
The grip on his hand tightened so much that he inhaled sharply, fingers nearly crushed by her hold.
“Have a nice evening,” the woman in black purred, edge of ice indicating the stranger to move along, or, more accurately, fuck right off.
Jungkook knew he shouldn’t, and yet.
His heart skipped two beats as she dragged him along.
He had no problem looking away from the other woman and fixate on the back of that neatly pinned, blue-black hair, graceful shoulders, corseted waist, swaying hips.
And her hand in his, not letting go.
-
time left: 06:22
“This is it.”
You turned to see Jungkook looking around, mouth open, gawking at the entrance of the intricately carved wooden door. It was one of the grander, first-class rooms. The red doors were much farther apart and the sconces here were glided with glass-blown lampshades, casting swirls of orange across the white walls, dimmed now from the late night.
“It was nice to see you again.”
It was, even with the bitter taste in your mouth that seemed to linger.
His eyes came back to you, dark brown and clear, focused on only your face, long black strands framing his cheeks, the small mole underneath his lower lip trembling.
“I hope you have your happiness now, Jungkook.”
You did.
You felt a strange, unmovable pressure on your chest. The time wasn’t up yet. You could still try. You could keep your hold on his hand and drag him into the room and hold him close to you, skin to skin, lips on his, and show him all you’ve learned. You could. You could see it in those eyes. He would follow you now, maybe because of the alcohol, maybe for old times sake, maybe out of impulse and bad choices.
You let go.
You let go, because you didn’t want to be a bad choice.
Not to him, Jeon Jungkook.
“You were my small happiness, back then,” you said softly, feeling yourself smile.
It was better not to have regrets. At the time, even you didn’t know how important he had been. The thought of being withdrawn from that school and not being able to see him again made you fight back for once, and it ended in the very thing you didn’t want. It fucked up your hands, it fucked up your life, but somehow you found yourself here now, in expensive clothes on an expensive boat with expensive tastes, able to make a choice between selfishness or selflessness.
Maybe you hadn’t changed much after all, since you found yourself choosing the latter.
You turned away and pulled your hand out of his.
Or would have, if Jungkook hadn’t grasped your hand tighter, yanking you back and shoving you against the door of your suite. Your hand automatically raised to push him back, but he put his whole weight on your body, sandwiching you between the door and himself, making you gasp, trapped between dead timber and muscular hardness.
Now his face was in your face, breathing hard, dark brown orbs shaking and shining with wetness.
You froze, lips parting.
“You were my happiness too.”
He was panting, warm exhale on your lips.
“Not a small happiness. The happiness.”
He squeezed your hand like you were going to disappear.
“I didn’t know then, but I do now,” Jungkook shuddered, towering over you even in your heels. He stared into your eyes. “Your smile.”
You blinked slowly, confused.
“Your smile. I’ve never seen it reach your eyes.”
Heart racing, suddenly breathless.
“Except when you thought I couldn’t see, like when my back was turned or my face was turned away from you,” he whispered, leaning his forehead against yours, long black hair curtaining your faces, sending you back to the shadows. “I saw it though, in reflections. In windows. In mirrors. In those beakers in the science room.”
Was that so? Had that been you? You made it a point not to smile back then, because there had been nothing to smile about. But maybe… maybe when eyes weren’t on you, maybe when you yourself didn’t notice, but, somehow, Jungkook had noticed.
You realized that your introspection had diverted your attention from him, so you made eye contact again, airless at his closeness. Your eyes and his, lost in sweet dreams.
“I want to kiss you.”
He tilted his head and hesitated.
“I want to kiss you all the time,” he said to your lips.
His expression was clouded with shame. It was ugly. It made his handsome features ugly and you didn’t like that. You wanted to make it go away. You closed more distance, fingers pressing down on the back of his hand, your other hand raising and resting on his hip, lashes lowering.
“Then kiss me,” you said to his lips.
-
time left: 06:13
Jungkook kissed her.
From then and now, it was the same.
Euphoria.
But this time, it wasn’t clumsy with colliding teeth and too much tongue that did nothing, sloppy with no purpose. This time, his lips were soft at first and so were hers, breathing in each other’s scent. She smelled warm and musky, like blackberry and evergreens, expensive and lush, but somehow still her, still that girl from back then, comforting and intense, sometimes with the hint of metallic blood, but that never bothered him. Her hand on his hip, stroking it under the layers of fabric, making him shiver, caressing the back of his hand with her fingertips, delicate sigh in his mouth.
The faintest flicker of tongue on the edge of her upper lip, swiping down into his open mouth.
He moaned, feeling the strong wet muscle thrust into his lips, coaxing his tongue, teasing, pressing her body to his, breasts against his chest, their deep open necklines exchanging heat in the air between their skin but not quite touching, and he found himself letting go of her hand, reaching up to grab her breasts.
Her fingers closed around his wrists, forcing him to stop.
He gasped in her mouth, eyes opening.
“They’re not stress balls, Jungkook,” she snickered.
He was breathing hard, ribcage shuddering, heartbeat thundering in his ears, getting louder as he realized her red lipstick was a little messed up, feeling the stickiness on his own lips.
“You need to slow down. You can’t just grope me out in the open.”
His impatience spoke for him.
“Why not?”
His voice was low, octave deepened from lust.
Her lips curved into an amused smirk. “Oh? You have changed. You used to be so worried about someone seeing us. If anything, you should be more worried now, considering your beloved.”
“She’s not my beloved.”
She was still holding his wrists, but her head tilted, watching his eyes carefully. He sucked in a shuddering breath, feeling the guilt.
“We… we thought it would be a good idea. Because our friends told us we look nice together. It would help her career. I wouldn’t have to invest too much into it.”
He felt ashamed, but he didn’t look away because he didn’t want her to think he was lying.
“I never found a smile like yours. I accepted that I never would.”
Her eyes darkened.
“It’s dangerous, Jungkook. Ill-advised.”
He smiled and he didn’t know if it reached his eyes because his vision was blurry.
But he knew it wasn’t a lie.
“You always were. I should have chased you to the ends of the earth, even if you were only a ghost.”
He lifted his hands, hers with his, and cupped her face, running his fingertips over her cheeks, smooth and soft skin, transported back to that moment in the abandoned literature club room, her face cast in an orange glow, actually swirls from glass-blown sconces, but the past and present connected, turning it into rays from the setting sun that lit up her features, and he said what he had said then, because it was the truth.
“You’re really pretty.”
She raised an eyebrow.
“You are.”
He leaned forward and kissed the side of her lips gently.
She chuckled.
“You really are something, Jeon Jungkook.”
Her hands let go and she reached into the deep neckline of her dress, plucking something from the corset. His eyes widened as she pulled out the key card from between her breasts, smirk dancing on her lips. She winked at him.
“A lady has many hiding places.”
She flicked her wrist and inserted it into the door, unlocking it without looking.
The door opened and they stepped into her room.
-
time left: 06:02
“Hnnnnnnngh…”
“Dude can snore.”
“Help me turn him to his side. Don’t want him to vomit in his mouth and asphyxiate,” Kim Namjoon grunted, helped by Kim Seokjin, jerking Kim Taehyung’s body to the side. They backed up and Taehyung immediately flopped to his back, snoring away.
Seokjin thinned his mouth into a line. “Seriously?”
“Ah, here, let’s roll up the towels and use them to prop him up.”
“He’s not as cute as she is.”
“Well, she also doesn’t get piss drunk... ever.”
“Still a better cuddle buddy. Comes with built-in pillows.”
Namjoon blinked at Seokjin and shook his head, letting the odd comment slide. They managed to jam the bath towels next to Taehyung and force him to lay on his side, placing a pillow in his arms that he immediately hugged, squeezing it tightly. The snoring lessened as well.
“Guess we should go back,” Namjoon sighed, rubbing the back of his short hair.
Seokjin scoffed. “No, we shouldn’t. They’re probably all over each other as we speak.”
Namjoon frowned, raised an eyebrow at the other man. “Really? I don’t know. She seemed very hesitant about it. She said she didn’t love him.”
Seokjin snorted, somehow still elegant with his handsome face. “You really believe that?”
“That’s what she said.”
Seokjin rolled his eyes. “That’s what everybody says when they don’t want to admit they’re in love with someone.”
“That’s also what people say when they are, factually, not in love with someone.”
The black-haired man raised his hands and held up his index fingers, wriggling them in the air and bending them ninety-degrees, squiggling them around each other and poking the tips together repeatedly. Namjoon blinked at him.
“What are you doing?”
Seokjin rolled his eyes as if it was despairingly obvious what he was doing. “A visual representation of what they’re doing right now.”
Namjoon contorted his face in confusion, raising an eyebrow.
“… Becoming worms…?”
Seokjin groaned. “Having sex, Namjoon.”
“… How is that…?”
-
time left: 05:53
The door to his dreams unsealed and they tumbled inside.
The orange glow of the hallway lights spilled into the room, bleeding into the cool glow that came from the open windows, curtains pulled back to reveal the shimmering sea and bright moon, a contrast of artificial dusk and true nightfall. She pulled him in by his belt, hooking two fingers under the leather, step by sweeping step, grace that made him breathless, orange and silver and shadow, all mixing together, and then the door closed and then the sea and the moon replaced the sunset dreams.
It was a heavy thunk, closing with finality.
The room had many ornate mirrors in it to make the room seem bigger. The had gold vintage frames of different shapes and sizes, reflecting the contents of the room, the large bed and red silk sheets, the black leather chairs and black marble table bolted down to the floor, the matching marble vanity laid out with several black leather cosmetic bags, all zipped up neatly. The had small details on them – red zippers, silver locks, the designer logo engraved into the leather. The suitcases leaning against the wall matched the cosmetic bags, three of them, one larger than the first two.
Jungkook breathed her name, raising his hand, fingers spread.
Her fingertips touched his, halting him.
“Let me do it.”
He spied his expression in one of the mirrors.
The silver moonlight lit up his face and his eyes, reflecting the lust and trust in them.
He looked back to her and nodded.
“Okay.”
Glamour. Fantasy. Descent.
That was the only way he could describe the way she moved, glamour in the way her hand slowly retreated from his, a steady wave and sweep, clearly deliberate. Even in smeared lipstick, the small smirk was present on those lips, stepping around him with a swing of her hips and gentle clicks of her black patent leather heels, the slinky fabric flowing with her actions and also clinging to her body at the same time, using the arc of her stride to spread open the high slit. Letting him watch. He almost turned to follow but she placed a few fingers on his arm, purring softly.
“Don’t move.”
Fantasy, the way she slipped behind him like a shadow, and then Jungkook had to look up into the mirrors, catching glimpses of her behind him. There was no music, but she moved as if there was. If anything, the sound of the waves seemed to form its own music, and he was suddenly more aware of it, the splashes against the hull of the boat mixing with the bass of his heartbeat and the wispiness of her breath, stepping up behind him, body heat making him gasp, looking into a mirror to his left, a window illuminating his right, her hands slipping between the space of his ribs and upper arms, fingers spread like wings, warm exhale on his neck.
No words.
Just a simple kiss to the base of his head and her lips murmuring his name on his skin.
Descent.
One by one, teasing the buttons apart, her fingers ghosting the exposed skin, his heart racing as he watched those hands, peeling apart the button placket, unwrapping him like a decadent sweet. He watched his own expression framed by long curls of black, his teeth sinking into his lower lip, small mole below quivering, seeing more and more of his chest being exposed, somewhat self-conscious, but there was something spellbinding about only being able to see her hands and forearms, pointed black nails decorated with crystals that caught the light, undoing all the buttons until she reached his pants.
“I can–”
“Shh. Don’t let your impatience prevent you from enjoying your own striptease.”
His cheeks heated a little and he lowered his hands, breath hiking as she firmly gripped the bottom of his shirt and pulled it out. Jungkook took a step back, his back hitting her chest, and gasped again, feeling the softness, but she adjusted her position so her body wasn’t touching his anymore, chiding him playfully.
“Never had someone take off your clothes, Jungkook?” she chuckled against his neck, making his hairs stand on end.
“Ah, well…”
He watched those deft fingers undo the last two buttons. Then they spread apart his black shirt, reaching in, fingertips spreading out over his abs and pecs, tracing the contours of his muscles, switching between her nails and the pads of her fingertips, prickling and dainty. He couldn’t sure her face, but he saw his, and only now registered his own moans, so absorbed by her sensual movement and her touch that he didn’t even realize the embarrassing sounds falling from his lips.
“Not… since you…”
She snickered. “Seriously? What fool wouldn’t want to tear the clothes off this lovely body?”
He could feel and see his flush in the mirror. He looked away quickly, down to her hands exploring his body. “Well, I just… figured it’s easier if I do it. No one has ever been like you.”
“Hmm.”
His hands raised. He traced her knuckles, causing her to pause, caressing small circles on his sternum.
“You want to tear the clothes off my body?” he breathed, not daring to see his own reflection and know his reaction to whatever her answer was.
“I do.”
He placed his left hand on hers, heart beating faster and faster.
“Not tonight though.”
He pulled her palm away from his racing heart, not wanting her to know her effect on him, letting it linger beside his ribcage.
“Tonight, I will show you all I’ve learned, because I was always a better student than you, class representative.”
He found himself laughing a little, suddenly sheepish. “Yeah. Your name was always in the top five percent. I was pretty bad at school. I don’t know why everyone voted for–oooh…”
Her fingers touched his nipples, rubbing delicately, sending strange shivers all over him, shallowing his breath, making him look up and see his dark nipples being teased by expert hands. Her nails nicked them lightly and he whined in his throat, feeling them harden against her fingertips, surprised at the arousal from the simple touch, something he never paid attention to or cared about. His hair was covering part of his face.
Jungkook reached up and pushed his hair back, pressing his chest into those hands.
Saw one of her eyes behind his head, sharp and sultry with winged liner, twinkling as she watched him.
“I voted for you because I thought it would be funny since you weren’t even trying.”
He didn’t really have a response for that, too busy looking at his own face and body, shivering as she tweaked his nipples and pushed them in slow circles, his arms descending to lower the shadows, letting them suspend by his sides.
She shifted beside him and half of her lips appeared, on the toes of her heels, whispering close to his ear, seductive and dark.
“You were good-looking then, and you’re even more handsome now, Jungkook.”
The sound of the ocean, the silver moonlight shining off her blue-black hair giving her skin a surreal quality, almost doll-like, the mirror reflecting his expression, desire and anticipation.
She removed her hands and grabbed the collar of his shirt, yanking it down.
He inhaled sharply and her face disappeared.
Dress shirt stripped from his body and flung away, the crisp black fabric flaring out, a shadow cast aside.
Jungkook spun around.
-
Does this man know the meaning of calm the fuck down?
You rolled your eyes inwardly as you witnessed Jungkook turn around, facing you again even though you told him not to the move. He had always been like this, overzealous, but he didn’t seem as clumsy as before, although…
He grabbed your tits.
Hah.
He blinked rapidly, surprised. “Huh?”
You shook your head and knocked his hands away, sighing. “Pasties, Jungkook. To cover my nipples.”
You reached into your dress and scooped your breasts out, trapping them between the v-neckline. His eyes bulged slightly when he saw the smooth black satin circles flush to the apex of your breasts. They fit perfectly, seamless so they were unseen even under the slinky fabric of the black gown.
“W-Whoa…”
“What? I’m a burlesque dancer. Of course, I have fancy nipple covers. This is basic wardrobe.”
He tilted his head. “I’ve never seen any like these. They look like they’re part of your body.”
You tutted. “Obviously, they aren’t. You know I have nipples.”
And you reached up and peeled them off, flinging them aside carelessly.
Jungkook gasped, staring at your nipples with wide eyes.
“Don’t act like you haven’t seen nipples,” you scowled. “You better not be a virgin with how hot you’ve become.”
His hands shot up and you grabbed his wrists again, forcing them back down.
Jungkook whined, eyes shifting back up to you, begging to touch them.
You stiffened slightly. What kind of reaction was that?
“They’re so big,” he whispered huskily, visibly shuddering, shaking with the craving to touch them. “I remember they were soft. And…” His breathing hitched, trembling in your hands. “I remember they tasted so good. Amazing. No one has ever tasted as good as you.”
His eyes flickered back down, biting his lip. He tried to break free, but you held. A single glance exchanged and you let go, realizing he was going to do something other than attack them. Instead, he collected the straps of your dress and pulled them back up, slowly, moaning as the slinky black fabric skimmed over your breasts, your prominent nipples sticking out, hardening from the light friction.
“Fuck, that’s so fucking sexy.”
Well, maybe he did have some appreciation for the visual after all.
“You see why I need the pasties.”
He pulled the straps up, whimpering as he watched your nipples strain against your dress, lifting your breasts in the confines of the fabric and lowering them, lifting, lowering, repeating the gesture.
You raised an eyebrow.
“Jungkook… are you bouncing my tits on purpose?”
His dark brown orbs darted to you. Guilty.
“Um… y-you won’t let me touch them…”
You weren’t sure whether to sigh or to laugh. You just shook your head, backing up out of his grasp. His hands were still outstretched, lips forming a small pout. You almost regretted it, but his expression quickly changed as you casually flicked down the straps, freeing your breasts again, dropping his hands and linking them together under his waist, waiting, now invested in what you had in store.
Oh.
He chewed on his lip and gave you an expectant look.
A flutter in your chest.
The side of your lips curved upward, tongue sliding out to graze the edge of your upper lip before disappearing.
You reached back, leisurely undoing the fastenings of the corset, sweeping your legs so the high slit flared apart, turning around, letting him witness the slow undress. Every action was deliberate, the wide arc of your leg moving the skirt aside to prevent you from tripping as you turned without using your hands, the wide stance of your feet to relieve pressure on your heels and to prevent the dress from sliding down too soon, and even the position of your fingers, poised so you could run a nail down your spine as two of them pinched the hook-and-eye and separated them, traveling down to the top of your ass. Every movement was thought out, details that made up the bigger picture, constructing your ultimate goal.
A sensual striptease.
You caught his reaction in a mirror to your right.
His sparkling brown eyes were wide, jaw dropped.
A lot of people had seen you take off your clothes, but no one made you feel as satisfied as Jeon Jungkook, then in his school uniform and now shirtless in his slacks, hands twisting in front of his crotch.
Then you saw your face.
You were smiling.
You really did smile when you thought he wasn’t looking.
Another glimpse at his face and you found him staring at you, silver moonlight glinting off his eyebrow piercing and flooding into his eyes, bringing out the stars within.
You released your hand and your dress tumbled to the ground.
He sucked in a shuddering breath, your name drifting from his lips.
“H… Holy shit…”
You did have an amazing waist-to-ass ratio.
Proper corset training and specific hit workouts to perfect your craft contributed. You couldn’t simply be pretty. You had to be strong and flexible to do the stunts and to walk in your red bottoms for the entire performance. Christian Louboutin didn’t make his shoes to be comfy. He made heels to make feet look enticing and sexy.
The price to pay for glamour and vanity.
It did give you some powerful calves though.
You lifted one shoe, flashing that blazingly red sole of your heel, balancing on one leg for a second.
This was to prevent you from getting tangled on your now fallen dress. You tightened your core, shifting your weight, knowing it would give Jungkook an irresistible view of your plump derriere in your high French-cut black satin panties, the particular style adding illusion to the already stark proportion.
In short, your ass looked fucking fabulous.
You stepped out of your dress, one leg, then the other, taking care not to step on it, adding a little flourish of your hands to create those body lines, ever the performer. You glanced at the mirror and was pleased to find Jungkook hadn’t moved, although his hands were now firmly open, palms down on his crotch, whimpering in his throat.
“Soon,” you promised, and you would keep it.
He nodded, swallowing hard.
You turned your fingers inward, hooking each index finger on the sides of your panties, rocking your hips slowly, lowering your lashes, following the beat of the sea, tugging down the right side a few centimeters and then the left, listening to his breathing and controlling yours. You bent over slowly at the hips, sticking your ass out, listening to his low moan as your glistening slit was revealed, sliding your undergarments down your thighs and calves, placing them carefully onto the floor.
You gradually straightened, breathing out, keeping it as one smooth motion.
You stepped out of your panties.
Now you were clad in only your black patent Louboutins and black diamond choker.
This time, you found your reflection in the mirror to delicately correct your smeared red lipstick with your fingertips. Good enough. You nodded at your reflection. The corners of your mouth curved upwards.
You turned to face him, showing Jungkook your smile.
-
This smile was real.
The smile she only showed when she was with him. He didn’t know if that was a valid thought or not, but he liked to think so. Besides, no smile meant as much as this one. That he was sure of, because he had been chasing this smile for all these years before finally accepting that he would never find another one like it. It was too precious to belong to anyone else.
His smile.
If his dick wasn’t trying to rip open his pants, Jungkook might have cried seeing it for the first time.
He couldn’t speak, too afraid he was going to lose it right then and there.
She walked towards him.
No, walk wasn’t the correct word. Strode, strut, glided, fuck, he didn’t know, she just moved as fluidly as a shadow and water combined, silver moonlight glistening off her skin and her diamonds, and he knew he would never love the mere act of walking more than when he watched her move.
She stilled.
He stopped breathing.
Her foot raised, toes tracing the inside of the heel, raising the pointed toe, balancing it on the stiletto, and she flicked it backward, causing it to tumble and somersault backward, falling to its side.
Fuck.
She thought of everything.
She balanced on tiptoe and did the same to the other shoe, discarding it with a swift tick.
He made a less-than-elegant noise of her name mixed with a needy whine.
“P… Please…”
Jungkook was quite sure he was a hair’s breath away from ripping off his pants to get some relief.
She finally made her way to stand in front of him. Smile so close now, emphasized by painted lips.
Her hands closed over his, peeling them away from his crotch, holding them loosely. She leaned forward, placing a delicate kiss on his lips. Deep, meaningful, nothing flashy. Drew back, still smiling.
This smile.
He wanted to protect it forever.
“I should have told you that I love you, but I didn’t know it then,” he whispered.
She chuckled.
“I know now.”
She was lowering herself as he spoke, tilting her head at him, inviting him to continue. Getting to her knees, positioning her feet right under her ass, neat and orderly. His hands dropped, leaving hers on his belt, undoing the buckle, her gaze still on him. Looking up at him with amusement, diamonds glittering on her throat, perky tits and nipples, thighs on display, kneeling in front of his crotch.
“I love you.”
Jungkook meant it, every syllable.
He never meant it more in her life.
“I know.”
What?
She casually undid his belt and slid the closure open, unzipping his slacks.
“Wait… what?” he sputtered, blinking rapidly.
“I know you love me,” she repeated calmly.
Jungkook had time for a single blink before his pants were yanked down to his knees. He started, almost falling over, but her hands came up behind his legs and gripped them, keeping him upright.
“Careful,” she purred, stroking the backs of his thighs.
He jerked his head down, hardly able to breathe, shock blossoming as she leaned forward, hot breath warming his black boxer briefs. Eyes on his face, pink tongue extending.
“O-Oh, fuuuck…”
She planted her tongue over his hardness and soaked it with saliva, wetting the fabric and tracing the outline, molding his underwear to his length, sending him into gasping shivers, heat from her tongue and then her lips closing, blowing a cool stream over it, hot and cold, sensation and deprivation, too much and not enough, placing kisses all over and he flinched with every one, savoring the feeling, the touch that was familiar and unfamiliar, everything he wanted.
“W-Wait… that’s dirty…”
“Not as dirty as the things I want to do to you.”
Not as dirty as the things I want to do to you.
Pants racking his torso, looking down, and it was the same but different, her lips kissing up his abs, his chest, back to his face, holding him to her, lipstick smeared and now on his skin. Open mouth to elegantly parted lips, gasping as she collected her breasts and pressed her nipples to his chest, squashing the softness to his pecs.
“Spit on my cleavage,” she breathed.
“W-What?”
She raised an eyebrow, knowing that he heard her perfectly well, squeezing her breasts together and rubbing them on his chest, sending the electric sensation of her large nipples dragging across his heartbeat, rolling her shoulders to the beat of the sea, bathed in silver moonlight.
“Spit on my tits, Jungkook.”
“I… c-couldn’t… do that to you…” he moaned, pitch hiking with pleasure.
She didn’t chide him to cover his mouth this time, instead smirking wider, licking her teeth. “Sure, you can. Do it, golden boy. Spit on me.”
She hooked a leg over his hip and grinded her crotch to his wet one, causing him to whine, knowing his cock was so close to her pussy but not yet skin to skin, the soaked fabric barrier driving him insane, his hands coming up to grip her waist and press her down on him, staring into her eyes, inhale shaky and erratic.
She smiled, teasing, sculptural, his.
“You trust me?”
Jungkook was drunk on something he didn’t understand and it was love.
“Yeah…”
He leaned forward, capturing her lips, an intense, burning kiss. She smiled into his kiss, and he knew she was aware of his nervousness, but she remained patient as she always was, pressing back daintily, taking his breath away. He broke apart, trembling.
She nodded, telling him it was okay.
He collected saliva at the tip of his tongue and looked down, spitting into her cleavage.
It shot out of his mouth, splattering over the swell of her breasts and onto his own chest. His ears burned, self-conscious at the dirty act, but she moaned deliciously, backing up, his saliva dripping down and stuck to the inside curve of her breasts. He had a moment to appreciate the image, the most beautiful woman in the world with her diamond choker and his spit on her tits glistening in the moonlight reflected by the sea.
“Wow.”
That was all he could say as the image burned into his memory.
She smirked, falling to her knees, tugging his black boxer briefs down his thighs, his stiff cock popping out, bobbing in the air at the suddenness of its release, and then trapped once more, except this time not in drenched fabric but in her soft, saliva-covered breasts – or his saliva, depending on how he thought about it – but he couldn’t think about it, abrupt pleasure shooting up his spine, throwing his head back in a moan, eyes darting everywhere, surrounded by mirrors, reflections of his face, his long black hair a wild mess, his facial features consumed by wanton lust, his throbbing cock jammed between her breasts and her body sliding up and down, her large nipples rubbing against his crotch and thighs, oh, fuck, the sensation insane, soft and rough and wet, her perfectly pinned hair leaving only the curls at the ends bouncing from her effort.
She spit down his length, adding to the lubrication and her name burst out of his mouth in an erratic groan.
“F-Fuck…!”
She pushed his cock up, almost uncomfortable, but then her mouth closed around the tip, tongue swirling, and he was lost again, ecstasy as she switched to blowing him, pressing her breasts to his thighs, smearing the saliva on them too, covering his cock in red lipstick, soaking every centimeter with saliva, running her tongue over the veins and the head, his hands clenching into fists, close, so close, and then she popped her mouth off, leaving him near tears and in whines.
“P-Please, let me cum, please…”
“I want you to cum on my necklace,” she panted, planting his cock in her cleavage again, lacing her fingers over it, pressing the head down into the slick skin, shock of her words and the escalating pleasure, his chin lowering and staring down at glittering black diamonds and the engorged tip of his length popping in and out of her breasts.
“You want me to… cum on your necklace…?” he echoed hollowly, in utter disbelief.
“Fuck yes, I do,” she grinned, tip of her tongue flickering at the edge of her lips. “Cum on my diamonds, Jungkook.”
Well, fuck.
This was the worst surreal and hottest moment of his life.
He clenched his jaw and thrust his hips into her chest, adding to the stimulation, chasing it, seeing her grin grow, devilish and devious, squeezing him tighter, faster, faster, faster, his hands and his body shaking, gripped by pleasure and her hold, panting her name over and over, his prayer, his drug, his lifeline, trying to hold out, the line inside him pulled taut, thinner and thinner, snapping.
“F-Fuck, I’m gonna cum!”
His hips jolted and he forced them upward, her head tipping back as the thick red tip popped out, twitching and splattering thick streams of white, painting the black diamonds with his white orgasm, clinging to the jewels and her collarbones, dripping down, covering her with his strong and masculine scent. She lifted her body, trapping his jolting cock in her breasts, and he moaned helplessly, rutting against her skin, sparks of pleasure shooting through his veins, uncontrollable flinching and shuddering as more dribbled out, milked out by the tightness.
“Oooooooh, f-fuck… fuck, I’m s-so sorry…” he gasped out, wincing at the mess he made.
“Ah, shut up, Jungkook.”
In awe, he watched her back up slightly, strings of his orgasm all over her breasts, chest, and diamonds.
She smiled and dipped her fingers in it, coating them with his cum and bringing them to her smeared red lips, licking them off one by one, pink tongue slipping between her elegant digits, moaning as she drank up his taste.
Eyes on his, drunk on him.
-
time left: --:--
Kim Namjoon leaned against Kim Seokjin’s shoulder, listening to the other man’s deep breathing.
They were sitting on the plush green couch in Kim Taehyung’s room.
The night was quiet, nothing but the sound of the waves coming through the open window, a light breeze as Namjoon watched the moon reflect off the ocean. Seokjin had already fallen asleep, head resting against the back of the sofa, tired from the day’s events and needing the rest. Namjoon felt the drowsiness beginning to weigh on him too, using Seokjin’s wide shoulder as his headrest. He had opened the window to prevent the room from getting too stuffy.
It would have been more comfortable to be in that giant bed with the one he was paid to protect, but he hoped she was in good hands now.
He smiled to himself, watching the silver moonlight dance off the choppy waters.
His mind went back to those moments, moments when he had to hold her shoulders and remind her of who and where she was, moments when he sat and waited as she clenched her teeth and a skilled medical tattoo artist filled in those white scars all over her hands, moments of when she finally sat him and Seokjin down and told them why she sometimes woke up at night, screaming and crying, yelling the names of past demons.
She had told them she was sorry, sorry for being weak, sorry for not taking responsibility.
Seokjin had scoffed, smacking her lightly on the head. “Are you an idiot? You have been through enough. Stop it with that nonsense. It’s part of our job, so let us do our job.”
After that, Namjoon would make it a point to check up on her at night, reaching over to soothe her brow as she slept, relaxing her face with gentle touches. He wanted to be there in case she woke up from a nightmare, and it became a habit, until Seokjin too elbowed himself in the bed, muttering that she always got the best digs anyway, so why shouldn’t he? He was handsome enough, after all.
They only accompanied her to events or appearances.
It bothered Namjoon to think that sometimes she was alone in her own home, waking up screaming and crying, and that he couldn’t be there.
He wondered what would come of this.
Jeon Jungkook.
Did he know that if he broke her heart that two ‘big-scary-dudes-with-massive-shoulders’ were going to find his ass and rearrange it?
Hm.
Namjoon closed his eyes, letting the night take him under its wing.
-
time left: error
The black diamond choker was on the vanity, covered in Jungkook’s cum.
Both of your clothes were on the floor, shoes, pants, dress, undergarments, strewn all over, a mess, along with a now cold, wet, white bath towel that smelled like semen and saliva. It had what was left of your red lipstick on it.
One of the designer cosmetic bags was open.
There were condoms scattered on the bed now, thrown over the red silk sheets.
Jungkook was holding your hands, palms up, tenderly kissing them.
It felt strange, his soft lips on your scars.
Most people didn’t realize it. It wasn’t something they looked for or thought to think twice about, because to them, your hands had always been like that. It would be rude to comment or mention it even if they had noticed.
But Jungkook had known your hands before they became like this.
“It’s why I stopped going to school.”
He kissed the pads of your fingertips, looking at you with those dark brown orbs.
“Did something bad happen?”
You smiled, somewhere between sad and apologetic.
“I wanted to make sure that I could still see you, but unfortunately I ended up doing the exact opposite.”
He squeezed your hands tightly, giving you his own smile. “Still, you came back to me.”
You chuckled ruefully. “Not with the best intentions.”
The silver moonlight highlighted all your favorite features, the cupid’s bow of his lips, the tiny mole underneath, the wrinkle of his nose with his smile, the stars in his eyes.
“You’ve always been dangerous and ill-advised for me, but I always liked that about you.”
You arched a brow. “Hm, you were a shitty class representative, huh?”
Jungkook shrugged. “You weren’t really a class delinquent either.”
You shook your head, pulling your hands out of his. “Look at you. What kind of class presentative gets all these tattoos?” you teased, dancing your fingers up his right forearm and elbow, tracing the outlines of the script and graphics, following the swirls of the clouds and flower petals with your nails, listening to his shallow breath at your touch. “And an eyebrow piercing? Are you trying to tell everyone you’re one of the cool kids now?”
His lips twisted into a small frown. “Am I cool?”
You shrugged. “Every time I hear about the cool kids in our grade, it’s just about how they got knocked up too early or how they dropped out of university, so you tell me.”
“I haven’t gotten knocked up.”
You gave him a look, bordering on impatience.
“Wait, I mean–”
You raised a hand and planted it on his chest, pushing him down on the bed.
“Enough. Stop talking, please.”
You crawled over his body, placing your hands by his head, looking down at him. Jungkook stared up at you, long black hair splayed over the pillows. He was definitely a man now, sharp jawline, manicured brows, slight dark circles from long nights, and, as you leaned down, expensive cologne now, still light and clean but with a twist of sharpness and sweet fruit, still with the same warmth. Your lips pressed against his jaw, leaving kisses, sinking your weight onto him, skin to skin, his gasps under you, and now it seemed like you were back in that time, his teenage self and your teenage self, the same eagerness as his arms surrounded you, running his hands down your back, but now he added his nails, making you hum in approval. He did it more, scratching his nails over your spine as you kissed his jaw, his throat, his ear, jingling his earrings with your tongue, whispering against his skin.
“No one has ever been what you are to me.”
You didn’t bother using past tense, because it wasn’t.
You sat down on his thigh, his semi-hard cock twitching against your skin, turned on by your kisses and your tongue toying with his ear.
“You weren’t even very good, you know. You were kinda shit. Too impatient.”
He shuddered, tensing his forearms against your sides.
“I’m b-better now…” he whimpered, turning into a moan as you bit his ear and rubbed your wetness on his thigh, painting it with your juices. You kept it slow, leisurely, with even pressure.
“Still…”
You lifted your head, bringing your fingers inward, slipping them into his hair, pushing it back, caressing his temple with your thumbs.
“I have loved you all this time, Jungkook, even back then when I didn’t know what love was, when I was only chasing a feeling that was different from all the others.”
His eyes widened, stunned by your words.
“Ah, nevertheless, I came back too late.”
“No.”
His hands on your back, holding you tightly to him.
“I want to kiss you all the time,” he whispered, words from long ago, bringing them back. “And I will.”
He raised his forehead and touched yours.
“I know it’s not fair, I know it’s bad, I know it’s terrible, but I’ll be fucked up if you can’t be right here, with me.”
His lips to yours, small kisses and closed eyes, hiding his tears behind his lashes.
“You are the happiness, and if you continue to love me, I will never let you go.”
That’s what Jungkook said, but the sentiment was slightly interrupted by his cock being so hard that it was actually raising your thigh up into the air.
You smiled against his lips, chuckling.
“I guess I’ll bring a towel when you get her cocktail splashed into your face.”
“Maybe two. She has a lot of internet friends.”
“Hm.”
You lifted your head, smirking.
“Well, I can’t say it would be the first relationship I’ve ruined, although those were far more indirect.”
-
Jungkook tried to make the moment romantic, but her naked body was on top of him with her wet pussy rubbing on his thigh and his dick was coming back to life right in the middle of his speech.
Still, he couldn’t really complain, because at the moment he was ripping open a condom, on his knees between her legs, rolling it down, eyes roaming over her body lines, poised and elegant and sexy, her hair flared out on the pillows, still neatly pinned up, some kind of sorcery, but that didn’t surprise Jungkook, for she had always had her spell on him and he was better for it.
“You want missionary?” she teased.
He bit his lip, nodding.
“I want to watch your face.”
Her tongue flickered out on the edge of her upper lip, accenting the high point of her smirk.
“Good, then I can watch yours.”
He positioned himself in front of her, pausing for a second, unsure now, but she simply grinned and reached between her legs, one hand on his length and the other on his hip, digging her nails into his ass and shoving him inside her.
“Oh, fuck!”
She seemed highly amused, but he was gone, sudden tightness and wetness enveloping him, pitching forward and catching himself on his palms, sinking into red silk, the intensity bursting from his core and washing over him, shuddering and gasping as she gripped his ass with both hands and sank him down into her pussy, down, down, drowning in the feeling, diving into the depths of pleasure, fuck, he felt it everywhere, her walls clenching and wrapped around his length, the sensitive head rubbing against the ridges, and the emotions that rushed through him as he looked into her eyes, a little humiliated that it affected him so much, a little shocked at how good it felt even with the condom, and a lot of lust and trust and love, all rolling into one, and she purred his name, smooth and silky and gentle, and he couldn’t help himself, slowly rolling his hips and smacking down hard, burying himself to the base, eyelids fluttering, feeling it radiate over his body.
“Too... hard?” he choked out, trying to be considerate, desperate not to fuck up.
She shook her head, snickering.
“Not even close.”
“How can I–?”
But she didn’t let him finish, tapping the mandala flower tattoo on his right elbow and he raised his arms, at loss for words and breath when she raised her legs to his shoulders and tugged his forearms back down, his hands landing on the bed once more.
Oh no.
This was tighter.
“Fuck me, Jungkook, and make it rough.”
I can’t talk or I will blow my load in two seconds.
He nodded, tensing his jaw, and smacked his crotch down, her thighs smacking against his chest.
Oh, fuck me.
He wished he could sound less desperate and less ruined, but he simply didn’t have the capacity for that any longer, tumbling into a series of wild moans as he built up the pace, wave after wave of pleasure crashing into him, too much sensation, soft thighs, wet tightness squeezing his throbbing length, her hands on his upper arms, holding on tightly, his name falling from her mouth along with her erotic exhale. He loved every sound she made, every single one, her moan, her hiss, her growl, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, that’s it, give it to me, Jungkook, loved the way she looked at him, a mixture of bliss and slyness, loved the sound their bodies made, a harsh rhythmic smack, louder and louder, messing up the sheets, her head tipping back, eyes closing, fuck, yes, gonna cum if you keep going like that, so he did, hard, firm, powerful slaps of skin-to-skin, feeling so good but holding himself back, biting his lip hard and moaning in his throat, not willing to orgasm until he made her do so, at least twice.
Jungkook was being ridiculous, he knew, but he wouldn’t forgive himself if he lost it too soon during his first time inside her.
“Mmm, fuck, Jungkook, fuck!”
A sharp throb and then a cascading effect, brutal massages of his length, and he didn’t even realize it, pausing for a second from the strength of her orgasm, his cock clenched all over and squeezed, shocking pleasure that made his eyes roll back, struggling with every fiber of his being to not explode, edging himself by ceasing his thrust, and then he drew back and rammed back into her, clawing up the sheets to press her further down into the bed, nearly bending her in half, but she didn’t seem to mind, gripping his arms and raising her hips to meet him, deeper now, the head being constricted even tighter by this changed angle, him sucking in a deep inhale, smelling blackberry, evergreen, and sex, the sweet smell of her pussy, reminding him of sitting on the bus on his way home and catching that scent on his hands and clothes, not regretting it, loving her mark on him.
It was better now.
Better because he was actually in her pussy.
And better because her teeth caught the side of her lower lip, a second of lost control, lashes lowering, moan in her mouth, his name, his name, his name leaking from her lips.
“Oh, Jungkook…”
He would never tire of it.
Never.
It burst again, a lewd squelch, and the insides of his thighs were soaked with viscous honey, clinging to his balls, violent throbs around his jerking length and Jungkook was gone, gone, everything accumulating at the peak and shattering down, his deep moan flooding the room, shooting his orgasm into the condom as his quivering cock was clenched all around, unbearable euphoria that he welcomed, letting it consume every nerve and vibrate through him, a feeling he never wanted to end.
He let it swallow him, her ocean, her moonlight, her night, and he promised himself that he would never leave.
-
All in all, Jeon Jungkook hadn’t changed much. That was alright. It was clear that you both had unfinished business in the past that was being hashed out right now.
Through sex, because how else?
He was behind you, both of you kneeling on the bed, his breath on your skin, murmuring your name, wonderment and desire, leaving a trail of kisses on your shoulders and neck.
“You can bite me, you know.”
He nipped at your skin experimentally. You pinched his finger on your upper arm, the little sheepish emoji on his middle right. He squeaked and bit harder. You hummed approvingly, lowering your hand.
“You’re turning me into a crazy person,” Jungkook mumbled to the curve of your neck.
“You were already a crazy person. You just pretend you’re not.”
“That’s not true…”
You gently peeled his right hand from your arm and yanked him forward. He inhaled sharply, hard chest hitting your back as you tugged his arm forward, curving it around you.
“What non-crazy person blacks out the inner part of their elbow and tattoos the bone on the outer part as well?” you accused, rubbing his muscular forearm against your nipples, smirking at his moan, his shiver traveling through your back and to the sparks of pleasure radiating from your breasts at the lovely friction.
“Um…”
That was as far as he gave you as an answer because he had no good answers.
“Mhm.”
His hand curved around your left breast and he ran his fingers over it, tugging at your nipple. You leaned into his touch, sighing softly. Well, maybe you had been a bit harsh. He had changed. Less clumsy now, attaining his own irresistible sensuality that he probably wasn’t even aware of, considering the wavering in his tone.
“You’ve probably had better than me, huh…”
“You would be surprised at the complete inadequacy of the human race when it comes to sex, Jungkook. Most people don’t give two shits about listening to their partner’s wants.”
He pinched your nipple and you moaned, rubbing your ass against his crotch.
“You always do everything I want and even things I didn’t even know I wanted,” he mumbled.
His cock was getting the hint with every rock of your hips, rousing at the soft friction. You listened to his rapid breathing, amused, the amusement turning into fond irritation as you felt his free hand slide between your bodies, tucking his hardening length between your ass cheeks, now slowly and non-discreetly humping you.
Well.
Can’t say you were surprised.
“You’re not that hard to read, Jungkook.”
He was leaking all over the top of your ass, ramming the head into your tailbone, now both hands on your chest, forgetting to answer, too absorbed in touching you, tugging at your nipples in time with his rocking hips, lips back to your neck, biting down and sucking hard, leaving marks. There was power in his hold, passion and desperation, a needy whine vibrating in his throat, faster, harder, pinching your nipples and rubbing the tips, pulling slightly, pleasure from his lips and his hands, your own reaching back and clawing at the small of his back, leaving scratches, yes, please, harder, mark me, make me yours, and you chuckled at his declaration, you were always mine, Jungkook, and he moaned your name in affirmation, licking up your neck, hot shaking breath ghosting your ear.
“Wanna fuck you from behind.”
You sunk your nails into his skin and brought your fingers outward, flicking your wrists to leave sharp lines of lust, his moan in your wake.
“Do it,” you drawled, voice saturated with need.
He pushed you down and your caught yourself with your hands, clutching fistfuls of red silk. You heard the rip of another condom and his groan as he encased his aching length, one hand on your ass, and you spread your legs, his knees fitting between them, the head grazing your wet opening and he slid in with a shudder, filling you up and stretching you out, a little pain that dissipated as he squeezed your ass with two hands, sighing with satisfaction with you.
“I know I said I want to kiss you all the time, and I do,” he panted, stalling.
You smiled, turning your head to look over your shoulder. Jungkook looked back at you and he reached forward, driving deeper into you, making you mewl for him. He plucked the pins from your hair, one by one, undoing the perfection, tossing them aside as he spoke, shrouding your shoulders and face with cool-toned black, surreal and glamorous.
“But I think I’ve decided I also want to fuck you all the time.”
You smirked. “You don’t take much convincing, I must say.”
He eased the last pin from your hair and flicked it aside.
You heard it fall to the floor.
That one wouldn’t be found in the morning.
He grinned. “Maybe I already knew you would be amazing.”
Instead of replying, you leaned forward and then smacked your ass back into his crotch.
Jungkook reeled, hand flying back to your hip, grabbing it tightly as you roughly pushed back into him, his natural response being to thrust forward, compounding the pleasure for you and for him, looking forward again and tipping your head back, letting go, moaning for him, his hardness twitching with your sound, loud and getting louder, bodies tangled, bed creaking, clutching your ass for dear life. You lifted one hand and brought beside your hip and Jungkook gripped your forearm, your body naturally dropping lower, deepening each thrust, and that was it, the uncontrollable need resonating in his deep voice, forcefully pounding you into the mattress, thighs, crotch, balls slapping into your lower half, carnal and wild and visceral, his name and your name mixing together, filling the room with the sight, sound, and smell of sex, so strong, fuck, he was so fucking strong, and so were you, a shock every time your bodies connected, until you were wailing with the ferocity of orgasm, squirming and clutching his forearm as he held yours, clenching around his length, but this time he didn’t stop, fucking you through it, gasping for air.
“Oh fuck, yes, fuck, do it again, cum for me again, fuck, feels so fucking good, feels like you’re choking my cock…”
And he brought it out of you again, your right hand punched into the sheets, your left in his hold, moaning for him, Jungkook, fuck, Jungkook, for him then, him now, him forever, ecstasy and elation, hitting a high you thought didn’t even exist, lust and trust and love, raising your torso and slamming your palm onto the headboard, rattling the whole damn bed.
“Fuck!”
Slamming back onto his cock and squeezing hard, Jungkook gasping at the suddenness of the harsh throbs around his length, jolting inside you and spilling another into the condom, your head whipping to the side, spotting a mirror and there he was, head thrown back, long black hair touching his shoulders, open mouth, eyes rolled back, chest shuddering, your name a shaky moan, holding you tight, his right arm travelling, wrapping around you and lifting you up, and then it was you in the mirror, your body against his, skin to skin, his dark brown orbs shifting down, feeling your eyes on him, and then he was watching your reflections, seeing your joined bodies, panting in unison, both sweaty and spent.
You smiled at him, lit up by moonlight and mirrors.
He smiled back.
And then his hand was on your chin and he turned your head to face him, tilting his head and kissing your smile, seeing it not its reflection but the real thing, no longer only when you thought he wasn’t looking.
-
time left: 00:00
“Oi.”
Jungkook didn’t recognize that voice at all. He concluded must still be dreaming.
A finger podded his temple.
“Oi!”
He started, but the arms encircling him pinned him in place, not letting him and his naked body leave the bed. Softness pressed against his back, bare nipples rubbing against his skin. He froze.
His dick was rock-hard.
A black-haired man in a black suit with a disturbingly handsome face was glaring at him.
“You animals made a fucking mess.”
“Go away, Seokjin.”
Jungkook squeaked, unable to talk because one of the hands holding him was dancing downwards under the covers, wrapping around his impossibly stiff length. He prayed it wouldn’t start moving up and down, but it did. Slowly. Not enough, but still too much, because he didn’t really want to get jacked off first thing in the morning while someone was very clearly assessing whether or not to cause extreme bodily harm to him.
Well, he did want to get jacked off first thing in the morning.
It was the bodily harm he was less enthused about.
The man named Seokjin squinted at him and it took every fiber of Jungkook’s being to not make a goddamn peep as her fingers ghosted the head, smearing slick pre-cum over the slit.
“I want to take a shower.”
“Then go take a shower. I left towels for you,” she mumbled behind Jungkook’s back.
“Namjoon’s in the shower right now.”
“Then order us some breakfast.”
“I sent Taehyung to do that. Also, it’s noon.”
“Couldn’t you order room service?”
Seokjin shrugged and Jungkook realized his shoulders were huge. “He said he had a friend who worked in the kitchen and was going to reserve us a table.”
She raised her head, resting her chin on Jungkook’s right shoulder and pulsing his cock with her right hand under the sheets. “Taehyung has a lot of friends, doesn’t he?”
Seokjin looked at Jungkook pointedly.
“Er… yeah. T-Tons…”
Those brown eyes narrowed, scrutinizing Jungkook suspiciously. “He seems like a dork.”
“I like dorks. That’s why I keep you around.”
Seokjin stuck his tongue out childishly and yelled at the top of his lungs. “Namjoon!”
“I’m done!”
“Finally,” Seokjin grumbled, walking off and yanking the bathroom door open, barging in unceremoniously.
“Gah!”
“Gah!!!”
-
“Oh, fuck, please, d-don’t…”
“It’ll only take me a second.”
You dove under the covers and Jungkook clapped his hands over his mouth, your grip on his twitching length moving fast and tight, rubbing your tongue on the hot head, and you were right, it only took a few seconds, and then Jungkook was hissing through his fingers, now, fuck, now, and your mouth swallowed his cock, not a moment too soon as thick spurts of his orgasm shot into your throat, coating the back of your tongue, savoring his smell and his thighs under your breasts, rubbing your nipples on the muscle.
“N-No, stop, stop,” Jungkook whimpered desperately, grabbing you by the shoulders and yanking you up, your head popping out, smirk on your lips.
You opened your mouth and showed him your tongue covered in his cum.
“Shit, you’re going to be the death of me…”
He hurriedly nudged your chin and you closed it, grinning.
Dangerous.
Ill-advised.
Jungkook grinned back at you helplessly, holding your smiling face in his hands.
---
some time later
“I have two towels.”
“She didn’t throw her drink at me.”
“Damn. I even seduced the bartender a little bit to get those plush cotton ones.”
“She asked if she could keep the ring so she could sell it and give the money to her secret, less good-looking boyfriend so he could buy her a new ring.”
“Oh. Wait, what?”
He shrugged, rubbing the back of his head. “I said sure, because it wasn’t like the love of my life couldn’t afford her own diamonds.”
“Ah, true, true.”
“I might be slandered for a little while on the internet.”
“Nah, you won’t. Maybe for like, six hours. Then everyone’s attention span will be somewhere else. Also, your taste upgraded in their eyes, from social media influencer to burlesque dancer.”
You grinned, raising your hands to create a finger frame of your index fingers and thumbs, enclosing the handsome face of Jeon Jungkook, long black hair, silver brow piercing, dark sculpted eyebrows, big brown eyes, defined jawline, shapely pink lips, mole of his nose and cheek, and finally that perfect mole underneath his lower lip, appearing as he smiled at you, confused at what you were doing.
“Even though we all know you’re just a hopeless sucker for the class delinquent. Tsk tsk.”
His grin grew mischievous, walking over to you as you lowered your hands.
“Well, I was a shit class representative anyway.”
He leaned down to kiss you, smile to smile.
Twelve hours.
Sunset to night.
-
fin.
--
masterpost
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beels-burger-babe · 3 years ago
Text
Of Jealousy and Friendship - Epilogue
*** Back due to popular demand, here is a little epilogue for what happened at school the next day after pt. 2 Enjoy! - B***
Summary: MC makes a lower demon friend who may secretly be hoping for something more than friendship. The Demon Bros are not about to let this happen.
TW: Discussions about scenting and non-consensual physical contact. PART ONE, PART TWO
The next day of school was...interesting to say the least. For starters, the brothers refused to leave your side. There was one of them lingering near you at all times. Some of them had the decency to try and be subtle. Satan would just happen to be studying in the same room as you, or Belphie was napping and was wondering if you could keep an eye on his things while he did. But then there were the others who were more than obvious. Mammon and Asmodeus both had to pried off of your arms by Lucifer to get them to actually go to their own classes. Leviathan, despite usually doing his classes at home in his room, actually attended school that day and insisted that he needed your help finding a few rooms here and there. The normally sweet and friendly Beel was glaring at any lower demon that so much as looked in your direction. And boy did they look. The moment you took a step into a classroom, you could see a number of lower demons flinch back at the combined strong sent of seven of the most powerful demons in the Devildom. Everywhere you went, whispers seemed to follow you. There were undoubtedly rumours about what you might have done in order to trick the brothers into favouring you; though you never heard any of them since no one dared to come within a ten-foot radius of you.
This bothered you a little at first. Being the center of attention, especially this kind of attention, was never fun to anybody. But by the end of the day, rather than being disheartened by it, you were just exhausted. Finally, the last class of the day had arrived; the one you had been dreading since the moment your alarm went off that morning - Magical Potions.
Beel shifted from foot to foot as the two of you lingered in the entrance. "Do you really have to go to this class? You could just skip and come get some snacks with me instead." You smiled sympathetically at Beel and patted his shoulder. "Sorry, Beel. Diavolo expects good things from his exchange students. I need to keep my grades high, or who knows what Lucifer will do as punishment." The redhead pouted. "Lucifer would understand, I think. All things considered." You snorted and began to walk into the classroom. "Go to your own class, Beel. You can come to get me afterwards, and walk me home with Mammon if you really want."
Beelzebub mumbled to himself, before turning and finally walking off. You entered the class, ignoring the few gasps and gaping stares that you got as you walked through the room, and took your seat. You had been setting up for another class of note-taking when the door opened once more. Standing in the doorway, staring at you with wide eyes, was Cane. The moment your eyes met, the shocked expression on his face instantly dissipated and he flashed you a charming smile. You could feel a bubble of annoyance and anger begin to rise within you. The cocky demon swaggered over and plopped down into his seat beside you. "Hey, there Dare Devil. You didn't get in too much trouble last night with the big bad Avatars did you?" as he spoke he draped an arm on the back of your chair.
You eyed his exposed wrist and pushed his arm off of your chair. It seemed not even the obvious scenting that was supposed to tell him to back off would get him to take a hint. "No, I didn't. Though they did tell me a few interesting things last night." Cane chuckled and leaned into his palm as he smirked at you. "I'm assuming it has something to do with the reason why you smell like hell-incarnate?"
You scoffed and narrowed your eyes at him. "I'm sure you'd rather I smell like you. Considering you apparently did your best to make that happen yesterday." Cane tensed for a moment, and you could practically see the gears turning in his head. Eventually, his expression fell into one of confusion as he frowned at you. "Are you talking about how I scented you? MC, do you really think I would do something like that without a good reason?" The frustration in you began to grow and grow inside you; somewhere across the school grounds, Satan sneezed. You weren't in the mood to have this talk now, and very much wished that your professor would hurry up and start the god damn class already. "I don't know you Cane. How am I supposed to know whether or not that's something you would do?" That stupid smug look on his face returned once more and you had to resist the urge to slap it off of him. "You seemed to know me well enough to go out with me yesterday. You didn't seem worried about whether or not I was too much of a stranger when we were dancing at the club and walking downtown late at night, where anything could've happened to a small little human like you," he chuckled as your face scrunched up in annoyance and leaned back into his chair. "I didn't scent you for any perverted reasons. I did it to keep you safe while we were out. I knew if you had my scent on you, you'd be less likely to get attacked, and I was right," he sheepishly scratched the back of his neck. "Admittedly, I should've asked first, and that's on me. But I really just wanted to make sure that my new friend didn't get hurt." He was lying. He had to be. If that asshole seriously thought you were stupid enough to buy that lame excuse, he was extremely wrong. You opened your mouth to tell him as much but were interrupted by a familiar deep voice clearing their throat behind you. "That is the worse excuse I've ever heard, and I live with Mammon." Cane stiffened in front of you before he looked up to meet the glaring eyes of Lucifer, and smiled. "Lord Lucifer, I'm afraid I don't know what you mean. I would never lie, especially not to a friend like MC." The classroom seemed to be on the edge of their seats as everyone quickly picked up on the showdown that was happening right in front of them. One lower demon of gluttony even pulled out a bag of popcorn. Lucifer tsked and crossed his arms over his chest. "Do not insult mine and MC's intelligence like that. Sure scenting can be helpful to ward off other demons, but only if the scent is associated with a more powerful demon. Nobody would blink an eye at anything coated in your weak, disgusting scent." Cane scoffed and tilted his head. "Evidently you did last night. Don't think I didn't notice you and your brother's reactions." This gained a few gasps from your classmates. No one could believe that someone, that wasn't his brothers, was actually trying to stand up against Lucifer. The idea itself was insane. Even seeing it in front of their own eyes, most could hardly believe it, yourself included. Lucifer maintained his indifferent expression and raised an eyebrow at Cane. "You mistook our irritation and disbelief that someone would be so stupid as to even attempt scenting our charge for being even the slightest bit phased by you," he took a step closer to Cane, bending down to be eye level with him. "You should consider yourself lucky it was Asmodeus and myself that got to the two of you first. Should it have been one of my more reckless brothers, you would've been nothing but a pile of ribbons in our driveway," Lucifer's eyes gleamed with satisfaction as Cane gulped and took a step back. The Morningstar grinned dangerously. "MC is our charge. They are our family and our responsibility. Unlike you, we actually got their permission to be scented and bonded to them last night; meaning my brothers are more protective than ever. I would never stoop so low as to waste my energy on a pitiful excuse for a demon-like yourself. But I know for a fact, that Beelzebub eats demons like you as a snack on
days when he is particularly famished. Satan occasionally brings one home for his latest experiments. Belphegor has torn through an entire percentage of them when he hasn't gotten enough sleep. Asmodeus is surprisingly prone to temper tantrums and fits of jealousy. Leviathan drowns anyone that disrespects the things that he loves. And Mammon doesn't take too kindly to people touching things that he considers his." Cane's hands balled into fists, but even then, the tremble in them was still glaringly obvious. Lucifer remained unphased and unmoved by the reactions he was pulling from his victim; though anyone could sense the air of utter glee that was exuding off of him. "If I were you, Cane, I would sleep with one eye open." The teacher finally walked in and raised an eyebrow at the scene in front of them. "Lord Lucifer, is there a reason you are harassing my student?" Cane whimpered as Lucifer smirked at him before standing straight and turning to the teacher. "Not at all, professor. I am actually here to inform you that MC will no longer be enrolled in this class." You whipped your head up to look at him as he placed a hand on your shoulder. "The student council has realized it would be a much better decision to have the exchange students more knowledgable to the ways and customs of demons during their visit here, so MC will be enrolled in Devildom Culture Studies instead. We wouldn't want someone to take advantage of them just because they were taught our ways, now would we?" The last line was spoken coldly and pointedly as though to drive in his threats to Cane. The teacher sighed but seemed to know that there was no point arguing and instructed you to gather your things. You did so happily and quickly. As you left the classroom and walked through your halls with Lucifer, you bumped him gently with your hip. "Thanks, Lucifer. You really are the best." His chest puffed up the slightest bit in pride as he continued walking forward with his hand still on your shoulder. "There is nothing to thank me for MC. I was just doing my duty as Vice-President of the student council to ensure that the exchange students are happy and safe." But even as he said the words, you knew that wasn't the case. You were MC. The human that wormed their way into the hearts of the seven strongest demons in the Devildom. For that reason alone, you were untouchable to all others, and Lucifer and his brothers would ensure that for as long as they breathed. And whoever disagreed would have to be ready to face the consequences.
TAGLIST: @henry-and-the-seven-lords
@hopefulann
@vampwiire
@bunna-does-stuff
@obey-mes-treasure
@obeythebutler
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iovelore · 3 years ago
Text
❝ MORTAL TALES ❞ ( O1 )
summary and word count: a certain fae can’t help but find amusement in the youngest elfhame’s prince‘s frustration. wc — 1493
pairings: the cruel prince!cardan greenbriar x fem!reader
contents and warnings: jealousy, hinting of threesome, mentions of knife (nothing extreme), suggestive content, mutual pining-ish, fluffy?
a/n: i used tcp cardan because i couldn’t see any context of y/n being used in a fic in the other books (i also need it for the next part </3). i tried my best to include the tail bit since it didn‘t come out right, ill add it in either part 2/3. cardan is a bit ooc (i made him a bit idk how to put it besides: sub?man whore. because i believe that’s what he is 😁). and y/n resembles jude just a little bit with the blade thing, but only a little because jude is neither very flirty or open up about her sexuality (more so in the first book) and that’s what i made y/n like.
also, since this was more in y/n’s perspective, next part will be more so cardans <3
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Y/N's legs crossed as she leaned her head on locke's shoulder, while Poppy, a half-faerie: who Locke has shown great interest in— for all the wrong reasons — sat before them and told them of the mortal tales her father would recite to her every night or the ones she gathered on her own from her adventures back where the humans lived.
Y/N found them odd: how they all were almost nothing compared to the people here; they were fragile, but she found similar enjoyment in them all nonetheless — and perhaps she had the eldest duarte to blame for her obsession with all things mortal, and Poppy's tales weren't helping either — which has unfortunately gained her the harsh scowls from the youngest prince of Elfhame.
Though that was no surprise. The boy had never been kind enough for her to realise that his treatment towards her was almost cruel — not that it had mattered, because to Y/N it was a show; she knew where his feelings lay, and it was nothing but amusing. To everyone with eye sight as clear as day, he'd never liked her, but when in class, when he believes her to be ignorant of his stare or his wagging tail; she has a classmate whisper every move his body makes, and it fuelled her heart all too much.
"It's not quite normal there, unlike here, if anyone decided to walk around with it they'd get humiliated till they're six feet under," Poppy snorted, covering her mouth with the back of her palms.
Locke turned to stare behind him, catching sight of the prince and Nicasia — both pouting miserably (one much too obvious than the other), and at that, he smiled. "Oh you’re right, tails are quite odd aren’t they? More so on a prince,"
Y/N shrugged at that, "It's alright, I do think Cardan makes it quite, charming? He’s always wagging it around like some...was it a cat you called it?"
"Yes a cat," Poppy shook her head positively, "though don't say that out loud, I doubt he's as clueless on mortal knowledge as we think he is."
Locke hummed, a smirk growing on his lips as he kept his eyes trained on his friend, Y/N following suite of his gaze and sultry grinning at the boy from afar, ignoring Nicasia — causing his eyes to widen momentarily, before the scowl found home on his face once more.
"He's never quite liked you has he?" His words were soft against her ear, his lips landing gently beneath her ear-lobes, kissing it tenderly as he kept his eyes trained on his flaring friend — who if one squinted, could perhaps see smoke escape his ears, if they ignored the immense swinging of his tail.
Y/N smiled, a small amount of malice lacing her intentions, "hatred I'd say, though he doesn't think I'm that foolish does he?"
Poppy, who now stared at her feet, hands tugging the grass with a blush coating her tanned features, "he's looked like he wanted to murder Locke."
Y/N snickered, a sickeningly sweet one at that, as she lowly muttered, "it’s all working then, sweetness."
Later on, when Y/N was left with no one to keep her company — as Locke found himself adorning Poppy and Nicasia's presence, alone — she took notice of the emptiness of Locke's home. It was beautiful, nothing as extravagant as Hollow Hall, yet she found herself admiring the interior all the same.
And as her hands traced the designs etched on the walls, as if it were a reminiscence of her first time staring upon them, a deep, and rather annoyed cough fleed her from her thoughts.
she stayed in position, her back facing Cardan and only gripping the knife resting on her waist, "now what would the prince need at a time like this? Should he not be in his humble abode by now?"
"Should you not be with your lover boy? Or is it that you enjoy using people like he does?" His tone was hostile as he spat his words, however the light softness that rippled around it was evident and Y/N couldn't help her lips tugging upwards.
She turned around, staring at him — where he leaned cooly against one of the walls — with squinted eyes, faux contempt present in her stare, and he shifted in his spot at her gaze.
She swiftly walked, her steps careful as to not trip on her dress. And when she reached him, she, boldly, placed her hands on his chest, dragging it downwards firmly — and his thumping heart beneath his rib cage could be faintly heard from the short proximity between them.
Y/N titled her head when he clenched his fists, but found a smile etching on her lips when his eyes were lightly fluttering. "Do I really threaten you that much that your hatred towards me is the only thing that keeps you going? It's pathetic truly, especially for a prince."
Cardan gulped, mind hazy at the contact and his body was supported by his tail, that was wrapped roughly around one of his legs. He could not utter the next words without stroking her ego, and it was then he'd wished — though he'd never admit out loud — that he were mortal, because he needed to lie if not keep his mouth shut.
More so with her trapping him, her knees coming forward and slightly spreading his legs, so that the entirety of his body leaned upon the wall. And despite him towering over her due to one of her legs bending in-front of the other, he could not move, catching sight of the shiny blade securely placed on her hips and her rigid grasp on them.
She had been around a certain mortal for too long, he thought, and at that his sneer was present again.
Y/N gently bit her tongue to stifle the giggle from escaping her, "what, cat's got your tongue?"
His lips were tightly sealed, and though he already knew the effects she displayed were affecting him, greatly, he refused to acknowledge her — especially that any movement could cause his legs to move slightly forward and brush . . .
She shook her head with a light hearted laugh that had his heart beating just a little bit faster, just a little bit. Her hands releasing the grip she had on her blade, before placing it on his cheek and patting him smoothly.
"You're quite humorous you know, would be a shame if you wasted all that energy on 'hating' me when it could be used for something else, you decide, my prince." she said, her tone sensual and low, before gradually stepping away allowing room (only a small amount at that) for the boy before her to breathe, she let one of her fingers crawl delicately on his hollow cheek bones, that though looked sharp, were as soft as anything could be.
Cardan's eyes widened ever so slightly, now registering her words, "are you flirting with me?" He asked. The space between them now slightly obvious, and he hated it — almost as much as he pretends to loathe her.
Y/N raised her brows, crossing her arms in an unlikely childish manner before nodding, "you're quite oblivious you know? Yes."
"Well," the confirmation enabled a smirk to appear on his face, only to be dismissed by her voice, again.
"Well? Is that all? Because I have things to do, and if my offer does not interest you then I'll gladly leave and find another willing volunteer," she purred, ignoring the way his brows harshly and quickly furrowed, creating a crease, "how about Locke? We are reasonably close, and he does not have a tail — which looks a bit foolish, don't you think?"
He was blushing crimson now, red sparklings littering his pale cheeks, but then his lips curled up — however, he does not look as frighting as he's expecting to be, he knew that, especially with her knees still resting between his thighs (which is all he's trying to drift his mind from at the moment).
"I don't see anything off with it, I've been told it makes one interesting. You've spent too much time with mortals and those alike." Cardan's jaw clenched and his chest was rising a lot more than it was a few minutes before.
Y/N pursed her lips, "Well then, show me how interesting one can get." She leaned forward, her breath fanning atop his lips and he found his own hitching.
His eyes were wandering from her eyes, which he secretly adored, to her lips, and he subconsciously nodded, leaning forward.
Only then, her hands rested on his chest, pushing him away slightly and his head came in contact with the wall yet again, and he had to bite his bottom lips in hopes that she had no idea how much he’d needed her, all of her.
Y/N stepped backwards, finally standing straight. Her hands on her side once more and she gave the prince an alluring smile, "I'll see you later, cardan."
He glared at the spot she had been standing in once she’d left, and he knew that it was a silly game she’s playing.
And what is a game if it involves one player?
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five-rivers · 3 years ago
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Beltane
Written for Ectober 2021 Day 1: Trick vs Treat. This is part of the Exhumed series.
.
Danny Fenton walked into the precinct. As often happened when he did this, all attention slowly turned to him. “Hi, Detective Patterson. Have you ever heard of Beltane?”
Patterson took a long swig of coffee through the plastic stir straw, because she felt the need to be at least a little drugged before dealing with whatever this was, and then said, “Is this the kind of thing the whole precinct needs to know about, or is it more specific to me?”
“Mm, not specific to you, but I’m not sure if everyone needs to know about it, yet.”
Despite only select members of the Amity Park police force knowing Danny Fenton had another identity, he’d become a sort of ‘ghost liaison’ for the precinct. Better him than the adult Fentons, who tended to break things even (especially) when they were being careful.
“Actually,” continued Danny, “you might have already noticed some things about it. I mean, it’s seasonal, and Mom and Dad were detecting ectoenergy and ghost activity spikes for events like this before they got the portal up and running. Although, the portal was supposed to stabilize and reduce those spikes… I guess reducing one isn’t bad?”
“Okay,” said Patterson. “I don’t really know what you’re talking about. Do you want me to go find Collins?”
“Oh, that might be a good idea.”
“Great,” said Patterson. She turned her head to shout across the room. “McGee. Go find Collins.”
“Still the new guy?” asked Danny, sympathetically.
“It isn’t like we’re a popular posting,” said Patterson, “and, thanks to the ghosts, we don’t really need new people.”
Danny nodded placidly. “I know. But it must be hard for him, don’t you think?”
.
McGee had done his job. He’d discovered the corruption in the Amity Park Police Department and plumbed its depths. The problem was that he could never, ever, report it. Even if they didn’t have a perfectly good cause for it all, what they were ‘hiding’ (and they were only barely doing that) was so ridiculous that McGee had thought he’d gone crazy at first.
Ghosts.
The whole of Amity Park was haunted. Just like it said in those touristy brochures at the front of the local diners.
He stuck his head into the break room. “Collins, Patterson and Fenton want you,” he said.
“In the normal room?” Collins asked, shoving a sugary monstrosity of a donut into his mouth.
“I have no idea. She didn’t say.”
“Normal room then. Great job, McGee.”
McGee rolled his eyes. Great job, he said. As if he’d done anything.
God. What would Halloween be like?
.
“So, it’s like, reverse Halloween?” asked Patterson.
“Well, not exactly,” said Danny. He patted Daisy, the department mascot slash corpse sniffing dog who had followed them into the small interview room, gently on the head. “Actually, there are more similarities than differences. Basically, like Halloween, we’re going to get a spike in ectoenergy. Maybe even some ectoplasmic storms. More portals. That kind of thing.” He shrugged. “Most holidays and seasonal divisions have them, you know.”
“So… we’re getting Halloween round two?” asked Collins.
“What do you bet that this is what gets McGee to snap?”
“He’s been here since December,” said Collins. “I think he’s too stubborn to leave.”
“Is he still spying?” asked Danny.
“No,” said Patterson, waving a hand. “He gave up on that, after a while. But there’s a new office bet about whether or not he’ll stay stay, or if he’ll decide to quit. We’re not allowed to join in because we know him too well.”
“Mm,” said Danny.
“I don’t actually know if I feel like I know him that well,” said Collins.
“Well,” said Danny, “it shouldn’t be as extreme as Halloween. Since, I mean, there aren’t as many religious holidays directly associated with death and stuff happening on or around May first. So. Yeah. But the thing is, there are some traditional, er, activities. Spirited activities.”
Collins suppressed a groan, and was glad that Captain Jones wasn’t available today. He and Danny could sling puns at each other for obscenely long periods of time.
“I’ve never noticed ghosts doing anything on May Day,” said Patterson.
“This is only the third year anyone’s even acknowledged that ghosts exist,” said Danny, “so I’m not really all that surprised. But the reason that I came to talk to you guys is that some of the ghosts want to do Beltane stuff. Like the fire blessings. Also, I’ve been told that some of the trees in town are secretly ghost trees, and if we don’t want to deal with another tree army, we need to do some stuff to appease them.”
“Secret ghost trees.”
“My source is very reliable,” said Danny. “Also, while I say ‘we don’t want to deal with it,’ I think we all know who’d be dealing with most of it.”
“You would,” said Patterson.
“Got it in one. Like, I can convince most of the ghosts to either do their Beltane stuff in the Ghost Zone, or somewhere out of the way. They’ll be disappointed, but I can do it. The ghost tree thing, though…”
“Can’t we just, I don’t know,” said Collins, “get rid of the ghost trees?”
“Well, they aren’t really evil ghost trees. Or even really ghost trees. They’re more… ghosts that live in trees?”
“What, like dryads?” asked Collins, raising his eyebrows.
“That’s what I said, but they’re different species, apparently.”
“Okay,” said Patterson, “so. Appeasing the trees. How many trees are we talking about here, and how are we going to appease them?”
.
“Okay, so, this is definitely a whole precinct kind of thing,” said Patterson.
“And possibly an ‘all civil servants’ type of thing,” added Collins. He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Where are we going to get the funding for this?”
“Oh, don’t worry about money,” said Danny. “I’ll just blackmail Vlad, and if that doesn’t work, I can get Mom and Dad to pay for it.”
“What,” said Collins.
“I think this might be a bit beyond your parents’ budget,” said Patterson, “but knock yourself out as far as Masters goes.”
“Well, I guess if it is,” he allowed, dubiously, “I could get the cults to pitch in?”
.
“This is nice,” said Danny. The sky was a bit overcast, which was a shame, but the hundreds of bright flowers and cheerful music more than made up for that.
The May Day celebration was, in Danny’s opinion, a success. At least, this half of it was turning out to be. He’d have to wait and see how the Spirit Bonfires went tonight before he could really make a judgement.
He’d only had to blackmail Vlad a little, too. It turned out that the ‘ruthless businessman’ in Vlad was ludicrously easy to manipulate, and once Danny brought up how a celebration like this one could revitalize local businesses and bring in tourism, he’d caved.
Although, that might have been the threat of an angry tree army. Vlad had definitely come off worse for wear in the last one, on all fronts.
Then, publically putting the Phantom Stamp of Approval (and Necessity Given The Potential Angry Tree Army) on the event had gotten buy-in from his fans and (sigh) the cults. The cults were, in fact, very enthusiastic about their new Holy Day. Danny had made a map of all the places they’d set up booths, and was studiously avoiding them.
Sam and Tucker were doing a walkthrough of that area, now, to check for problems and unadorned thorn trees. They’d arranged to meet up soon.
So, Amity Park was decked out in ribbons and flowers. All of the schools had gotten Maypoles and the day off of classes. Several bands, both human and ghostly, were playing in different parts of town.
It was chaotic, but great.
Danny briefly cut into the street to dodge a pair of college-age men play-fighting with tree branches (a genuinely important tradition symbolizing the battle between winter and summer), then walked through a wall to avoid two ghosts doing the same thing.
Finally, he reached Madame Babazita’s table.
“Hi,” he said, “three readings, please.”
“Three?” she asked. “Just for you?”
“My friends should get here before mine’s done,” said Danny. Was he channeling some predictive powers? Maybe. Holidays did make his powers weird.
.
“I have no idea what your reading is saying,” said Madame Babazita, after fifteen full minutes. “The cards simply aren’t speaking to me today. Also,” she held up an Uno card, “I’m not sure how this even got here.”
“That’s okay,” said Danny, “I just wanted to make sure it was the same as last time.”
.
“Hey! Phantom!” called Ember across the crowd of ghosts that had gathered in the cemetery. Most of them were fire or nature themed. “You’re in for a treat!”
Danny, who had been examining the flowers left on his grave, looked up. “I am?”
Ember draped her arm around Danny’s shoulder. She’d been a lot more friendly with him since the corpse incident. “Sure are.” She stepped up onto the surface of his memorial, pulling him up behind her. Danny shook off a brief chill and looked around.
Ghosts were streaming into the cemetery from various directions, bringing armfuls of flowers with them. Danny could see two, huge bonfire piles of flowers growing near the cemetery gates.
“Are there going to be cows?” asked Danny, who was still fuzzy on the details of the ghostly side of the celebrations.
“I don’t know,” said Ember. “When I’ve seen this done in the GZ there are. Here? Who knows. Maybe we’ll just walk through.”
Danny nodded, unworried. Beltane sure was an interesting holiday.
The last armful of flowers was placed, and every flower in the cemetery caught on fire at once. Including the ones on Danny’s grave. Danny yelped, jumping into flight. As an ice core ghost, he vastly preferred cold to heat.
This went without saying, but fire was very hot.
Ember grabbed his foot, and he almost kicked her. “You knew that was going to happen,” he accused.
“Sure did, babypop,” said Ember, grinning. “Come on, don’t you want to pass through the bonfires?”
Danny eyed the very large bonfires on either side of the cemetery gates. They were lit up with sparks like fireworks, shifting like flowers blooming and withering and blooming again. They were beautiful and impressive, and Danny felt like melting just by looking at them.
“I don’t know…” He wanted to, but… melting…
“Well, if you want to go out the other way and be horribly unlucky for the next year…”
Danny narrowed his eyes. “Is that another trick?” he asked.
Ember’s grin grew wider, and she took off towards the gates. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
Danny sighed and followed her.
.
“Unbelievable,” said McGee. “Absolutely unbelievable.” He gave the elderly cultist a boost into the wagon.
“I know, right?” said Patterson. “All this property damage and a low-key kidnapping,” she gestured to the hapless late night partier who had called the police when the cult got too insistent about their message, “and they didn’t even have the good drugs?” She shook her head. “Not that we ever arrest anyone just for drugs in this town.”
“I did not just hear you say that,” muttered McGee.
“We’ll make an Amity Parker out of you yet,” said Collins, heartily, slamming the back door of the wagon. He thumbed the button on his radio. “Any other disturbances?” he asked.
“No, you’re good to come back,” said the dispatcher.
“What I don’t get,” said McGee, leaning against a nearby wall in a moment of weakness, “is why we aren’t breaking up whatever cult thing is happening in the cemetery.” They’d seen it quite clearly on their way here.
“Because those are ghosts,” said Patterson.
McGee took a deep breath. “The ghosts are having some kind of ritual in the cemetery, and you aren’t worried.”
“Not really, no.”
“I hate it here,” said McGee.
“Do you, though?” asked Collins, sounding genuinely interested in the answer.
McGee opened his mouth to snap back that, yes, he did. But…
Hm. Huh.
Collins patted him on the back.
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squib-2006 · 2 years ago
Text
Okay this is part 3 of my intro to my darklys kai au. First part is here.
Ok now we head back to kai. Since he has lost all will to act like a functioning member of society, he has been shipped off to darklys. Darklys in this au isn’t a good place (not like the show’s version is any better). They employ “tactics” to get there kids to be bad. These “tactics” include verbal physical and emotional abuse, starvation, purposefully pitting students against one another, rewarding kids when they act evil and punishing them when they act good, locking “good” students in the basement, and waterboarding children. When Kai gets there he doesn’t fit what darklys sees as “bad” he’s just a kid who is acting out because he believes he is alone.
So darklys implores their “tactics” and in the process scars Kai for life. Now Kai’s scared of the dark and water. But in the eyes of darklys teachers he is acting the way they want him to. Then when Kai is 10 a certain 6 year old boy is left at darklys door step. Kai takes one look at baby Lloyd and sees himself, alone and scared, without any family to guide him. He sees how the other kids take advantage of his kindness and he gets angry.
So Kai takes Lloyd under his wing and beats the crap out of kids who bother Lloyd. But when lloyd doesn’t at “bad” enough for the darklys staff. They attempt to use their “tactics” to get him to act the way they want to act. But Kai says no your not touching my new little bro and takes Lloyd’s punishments for himself. He does this to spare lloyd from evrey thing and keep him happy.
Kai is now 13 and lloyd is 9. A new teacher joins darklys staff. A young woman named Casiana saga. Ms. Saga is a strange teacher for the students of darklys. Unlike the other teachers she tell stories of heroes and how they kill Evil villains. But she emphasizes that every good hero needs a villain. She believes that everyone in the school has potential to be the villain, and she emphasizes that if they were the villain that killed the hero they would be never forgotten ever again.
Kai can’t put his finger on it but she seems very familiar. She says strange things to Kai. She often holds him after class and has tells him stories about people overcoming their oppressors and rising up out of the ashes. Kai thinks she is weird. Kai doesn’t put much thought into it until one day he is walking to his dorm room and hears a very familiar scream. He runs to the nearby stairway and finds Lloyd at the bottom crying and clutching his arm. Someone had pushed him.
Kai is furious, but Lloyd says he didn’t see who pushed him. So Kai has no idea who to go after. Until ms. Saga pulls him over after class and shows him a paper that was written by the principal of darklys. It claimed that the teachers weee to eliminate Lloyd because he was getting in the way of Kai’s development as someone evil.
Kai wants to go and rip the principal a new one, but ms. Saga offers him something else. He on his own, just a scrawny underfed 13 year old, would not be able to do any damage to the principal. But she offered something else. A chance to join a group of like minded people and train to get stronger. All Kai would have to do would be to leave the school at midnight and join ms. Saga. The one other condition she gave was that Kai had to leave Lloyd behind.
Kai was reluctant to leave Lloyd but ms. Saga had insisted that if he stayed Lloyd would die. So Kai agrees to leave. But he has to say goodbye to lloyd first. He heads to Lloyd’s dorm room to check on him. Lloyd says he is fine and that everything is ok. He and Kai talk for a bit before Kai says goodnight. He heads back to his dorm and writes lloyd a letter saying goodbye. He leaves the bracelet that nya made for him when they were still together. It is black with pieces of sea glass woven into it.
Then he packs a bag with some clothes and a few things lloyd gave him as gifts. He then puts the letter and bracelet on Lloyd’s desk in his room. He walks out of the school all the wile showing off his middle fingers off. When he gets to the bottom of he mountain ms. Saga is waiting for him. She says she is proud of him for making this first big step and to call her Cassie, now that there going to be working together after all. Kai leaves and that’s where this pet ends. I think their will be another part but idk how long this whole thing will be.
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stellar-imagines · 3 years ago
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SCENARIO REQUEST: ❝that's a little dark.❞
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[ Fandom: Boku no Hero Academia ] [ Characters: Class 1-A ]
「 Class 1-A with an emotionless reader who gets hit with a quirk that make them turn back into a child along with the mentality of a child. In the end, Class 1-A and then fluff ensues with them basically fawning over a cute shy and easily flustered reader. But, they discover something about you.」
You couldn't remember what you did yesterday but it felt like you had the greatest sleep in your entire life. As your eyes adjusted to the surprisingly bright light, you slowly got up and looked at your surroundings. The place was unfamiliar and for a second, you found yourself rubbing your eyes and yawning. It seemed that you were in an infirmary of some sort but you don't recall going to school or anything. There were bandages around your arms and neck but it wasn't anything new.
"Oh, you're finally awake, my child." an old lady you didn't recognize swivelled around her office chair and hopped off.
"Who are you and where am I?" you asked, voice coming out a bit weaker than you had expected.
She identified herself as Recovery Girl — the nurse of the school and explained what had happened to you. It seemed like you got hit by a quirk in an unfortunate accident which caused you to turn back into a child with no memory of yourself in the future. You didn't believe it until you saw the different technologies and the date on the calendar. Never in your life you had felt so out of place in your entire life.
While the friendly old lady was trying her best to fill you in, the door to infirmary opened and a brown haired girl stepped in. She had has shoulder length, brown hair that's bobbed and curved inwards at the end. The girl looked at you for a moment, her eyes lit up and you could sense the relief in her eyes. She dropped her belongings and rushed towards the bed you had been sitting on. You backed away on instinct, slightly intimidated by how aggressive she was being.
”Where did you get those injuries from!? I thought you just got hit by a quirk on accident!” she exclaimed, looking at the gauze wrapped around your wrists and neck.
”Calm down. You’re scaring the poor girl.” Recovery Girl stepped in before this brown haired stranger did anything to you.
Recovery Girl explained your situation to the girl who quickly understood the situation. She then approached you but this time, she did it cautiously and ensured that you wouldn’t feel uncomfortable nor intimidated by her. After a quick introduction, you leaned that she was Uraraka Ochaco and supposedly one of your classmates. She got down to your eye level and attempted to befriend you. She tried asking a few questions about yourself. You could answer the simplest questions like ones about yourself. However when it came to questions about the times you spend in UA, you shook your head to everything, none of them sounded familiar to you.
Uraraka spoke in a gentle manner that you were not used to and it didn't take long for you to get comfortable around her. She entertained you by telling stories about her life in UA and heroes. The brunette managed to make you smile a bit with her way of storytelling which included a bit of exaggeration here and there along with the occasional hand gestures.
"Uraraka-san? Are you ready to go back to the dorms?" another unfamiliar voice was heard from the entrance of the infirmary. You saw a few heads peek into the infirmary, those you did not recognize at all.
With the help of Uraraka, your situation was explained to the new people that just arrived. It didn't take long for your classmates to gather around you and pointing out how cute you were. Though it was a bit embarrassing to be put under the spotlight, you quite liked the feeling of having so many people care about you. It made you think about how bright the future seemed for you.
You were brought back to the dorms where you met up with your other classmates. Those who knew about your current situation quickly explained what was going on with you to avoid any misunderstanding and confusion. You stood awkwardly at the entrance, fiddling with the hem of your dress and looking down to avoid eye contact. Suddenly, you were pushed forward by an unknown force, falling on your knees.
“Who left their fucking child here?” a scary looking guy glared down at you as you tried recovering from the small fall you had.
”Hey, Bakugou! Mind your language!” his friend whispered at the ash blonde who just clicked his tongue in response.
Their loud voices startled you which resulted in you to hide behind Uraraka's legs as if it was the safest place in the world. You gripped tightly on her skirt, hiding yourself from the people you didn't recognize. Loud voices always made you nervous and scared, it reminded you of your mother whenever she was unsatisfied with your performance. Uraraka let her hand stroke your hair to soothe your nerves a little. Ashido stood in front of the two of you with her hands on her hips, looking like a mother reprimanding their child.
"Bakugou, you're scaring [First Name]!" the pink haired girl scolded Bakugou who seemed a bit confused.
"You're telling me this brat is [Nickname]?" he closed the distance between the two of you with a few large strides. He stared at your for a few seconds to study your face a bit. It didn't take him that long to actually recognize a few familiar features and eventually he walked off, muttering something under his breath.
"I've never seen her like this before!" Uraraka cooed as you continued to hide behind her legs. You were never the type to be in the center of attention and didn't have any friends in when you were young because of how shy and awkward you were. Ashido crouched down and offered you a small jar of cookies that she had found in the kitchen.
"Should we send her home? She might be more comfortable staying with her parents." Yaoyorozu suggested, watching you munching on the cookie that you've been handed to.
"I think its best we tell her family about it this." Iida took it upon himself to pull out his phone and prepare to dial your home.
”Are we all having a sleepover?” you spoke up after being silent almost the entire time you arrived at the dorms.
"I don't want to go home." Everyone stopped to stare at you for a while, some surprised because it was the first time they've heard you since you came back. The girls looked at each other for a while as if they were silently communicating with one another. Midoriya who seemed to be the first one to notice that you seemed a bit uncomfortable, crouched down in front of you.
"You can stay here with us if you want. I'm sure everyone is okay with that." the viridian haired male gave you a gentle smile that made you feel a bit relaxed.
"Do you like having sleepovers, [First Name]-chan?" Ashido plopped down right next to you.
"I don't have friends and mommy doesn't like having me around." you mumbled.
"That's silly. I'm sure your mother is worried about you." Iida replies.
"Nu uh, mommy strangles me like this every night.” you shook your head lightly and wrapped your hands around your neck to imitate someone strangling you. The room immediately grew silent at your comment, clearly unsure of how to respond to your oddly specific comparison.
"Haha, good joke [First Name]-chan!" Kaminari patted your head gently, his laugh clearly a forced one.
"Mommy used to pull my hair too."
You never the friendly type of person to begin with anyways. From the very first day you got into UA, you were quite anti-social, never initiating any conversations or made effort to befriend anyone. However, it was quite surprising to know that you've been abused when you were younger. Almost everyone seemed shocked by the revelation and had no idea how to react.
"My mom gave me this scar." Todoroki crouched down next to you and gestured to the scar over his eye.
”I can’t believe that the only thing closed off people have in common is the fact that they’ve been abused.” Jirou muttered out loud.
"Okay, don't worry! We're all having a sleepover tonight!" Uraraka beamed brightly which made your eyes light up like a Christmas tree. A small smile made its way to your features and you couldn't help but sway excitedly.
"Everyone is joining right?"
There was no way they could refuse those hopeful eyes of yours, not when you have been through so much at such an age. They all seemed eager, suggesting a movie, snacks and games.One particular ash blonde looked indifferent, hands shoved into his pockets as he began to slowly walk away from the crowd of people. The first person to notice that he was making his way back to his own room was Iida.
"Where are you going Bakugou-kun?" the class president had asked as if it was a natural that Bakugou was also supposed to be a part of this so called 'sleepover'. Bakugou glanced over his shoulder, eyes narrowing at Iida as if he had gone insane.
"What makes you think that I will join this stupid—" the ash blonde gestured at whatever was going on.
"But a sleepover is not one without everyone." your quiet voice interrupted, your small hands tugging at his pants. He held his tongue after seeing Iida wildly gesture at him not to be so mean to you. The entirety of the class seemed to be really hell bent on giving you what you wanted.Bakugou felt his eyebrows twitching and began weighing his options.
Sero, Ashido, Kaminari and Kirishima were openly pleading him to stay while some others seem to believe that Bakugou would never want to sit down for a stupid sleepover. The ash blonde gave in, realizing that no matter what he chose, it won't be any different. If he chose to not participate, he probably won't be able to fall asleep from all the noise. And the possibly of witnessing these extras embarrass themselves didn't sound too bad.
"Fine! You guys are so annoying....." Bakugou grumbled. Your eyes lit up at his change of heart and began tugging him enthusiastically towards the common area’s couch.
Why does he agree to the stupidest things?
Total: 1717 words Published: 05.06.2021
Thank you for requesting! 。٩(ˊᗜˋ)و*。 We tried our best for this scenario. Hope we reached your expectations! We hope you liked it! ― author Lou
Thank you for requesting it! Tumblr has changed how the asks look and it looks very different. Hope you enjoyed this! ― author Natsuki
Requests are open! Matchups are closed!
Please do not mind the grammar mistakes and typos.
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highwaytothedangerzone502 · 2 years ago
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India Lima Yankee - Chapter 31
Pairing: Rooster x Female OC
Word Count: 3498
Warnings: Mention of death
Summary: Juliette Kazansky discovers Maverick is back in town for a special training detachment, but she's more than a little blindsided when Rooster arrives too. Having not spoken to him for almost ten years after their less than amicable break-up, Juliette can only imagine how the next few weeks are going to play out when she remains head over heels in love with him while he wants nothing to do with Juliette other than to forget her.
Or so she thinks.
Notes: Chapters in italics are flashbacks.
Chapter Songs: Bring Me Back to Life Without You
Chapters: Chp 1 Chp 2 Chp 3 Chp 4 Chp 5 Chp 6 Chp 7 Chp 8 Chp 9 Chp 10 Chp 11 Chp 12 Chp 13 Chp 14 Chp 15 Chp 16 Chp 17 Chp 18 Chp 19 Chp 20 Chp 21 Chp 22 Chp 23 Chp 24 Chp 25 Chp 26 Chp 27 Chp 28 Chp 29 Chp 30 Chp 31
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Juliette
Two days.
That's how many were left before the pilots shipped off. As Juliette helped her mom prepare the large meal to feed 18 mouths by setting places at the table, the sinking feeling settled in more and more. One or more of these people may not be coming home, Maverick now being included in that group. Juliette knew she'd had a part in that, even if it was Cyclone who made the final decision. Still, he never would've made it had she not suggested it.
At the thought of Maverick, she wondered where he'd gone. He'd arrived early with Juliette to help prep for dinner. Twenty minutes ago, Mav said he needed the bathroom and had yet to return. Glancing around the kitchen, dining room, and living room, even outside on the back porch, the aviator was nowhere to be seen. Juliette slipped out of sight from her mom and brothers and down the hall to the bathroom, just to make sure he wasn't actually still in there. She doubted it, and her feeling had been right. The door to the bathroom was open, and so was, strangely, the one to her father's office, albeit only slightly cracked. It'd been kept shut ever since Ice had died. 
Juliette poked her head into the room. In the golden light of the setting sun filtering through the semi-opaque blinds, she saw Maverick sitting in her father's chair, staring at a group photo of them back when she was in college. It was at her graduation. She was flanked by her father and Maverick. Bradley hadn't been able to come because of training, much to his dismay, but he'd surprised her the following week by showing up on her doorstep with flowers and tickets to a Rascal Flatts concert.
Juliette stepped inside the room and shut the door to give them some privacy. She grabbed a chair and sat across from him. "Talk to me, Mav. What's on your mind?" 
"I remember that day," Maverick said, nodding at the photo. "Your dad was so proud of you for graduating top of your class and having a job lined up with Lockheed. I remember him telling anyone and everyone on base."
Juliette smiled. "I could hear him yelling from the stands when I walked up on stage. You too."
"I was proud of you too. I think I was even prouder when you slipped and landed in a kneeling position and threw your hands up like you'd fully intended to do that."
"Whoever thought putting a tarp on the ground when girls are walking down a steep ramp to get to it in heels was a dumbass!" Juliette defended with a smile.
Maverick chuckled. "You had a hell of a bruise on your knee from that."
"I did. Rooster even asked me about it the following week."
"I'm glad you two are back together. You both seem to be better because of it."
"I think we are. He's been my rock since Dad-" A knot formed in her throat, effectively stopping all words. Rooster had spent each night with her since they'd gotten back together. Between having him around and working during the day, Juliette hadn't had time to think much about her dad or the hole in her heart from his death. It came back with a vengeance now. 
"Whether you realize it or not, you've been mine, Jules. I wouldn't have gotten that plane if not for you, nor would I be where I am now. I know it's because of you I got my position back, and-" Maverick eyed her knowingly- "I'm pretty sure you're the reason I'm flying as mission leader. Cyclone wouldn't have considered the idea unless someone brought it up to him, considering his opinions about me."
"I don't want you up there, but I know it's what you wanted. I'm not as worried about the pilots having you up there with them." Juliette clenched her jaw, her anxiety rising at the thought of her following words. "What scares me is knowing you'll do anything to protect them. Especially if you send Rooster."
A heavy silence fell between them, both thinking about the impending mission that Maverick and the pilots would deploy for in just a few days and the ramifications that could come from it. Juliette studied Maverick's face, noticing his green eyes welling with tears. Seeing him about to cry made the knot return, and it took a Herculean effort for her to speak in a steady voice. "What is it?"
Juliette followed his line of sight to another photo. In it stood Bradley and Jules, flanked by Maverick and Iceman, respectively. It was from Bradley's high school graduation, one of the last times the two men had been on speaking terms. "If I send him on this mission..." Maverick began, sniffling. He could barely look Juliette in the eye. "He might never come home. And if I don't send him, he'll never forgive me. I don't know what to do, Juliette. I know now is not the time to be thinking about this because we're about to have this dinner as a- as a way to decompress from the stress of the mission. Still, I see this photo, and I see a man who I consider my son. I see you and realize you might never see him again if I send him up, and I can't do that to you. You would never look at me the same, and I don't-"
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"Mav-" Juliette reached over and placed her hand on his knee- "listen to me. Don't think about me when choosing whether or not to send him up. In the event you do, and in the unlikely event he doesn't make it back, it would not change how I see you because I know you would've done everything in your power to save him. It's not time to make the decision yet, but I know you'll make the right one, and if you need me to help you make it, I'm here."
"I know you are, but you shouldn't have the burden of helping me make that decision on your shoulders. It's not a light one to make."
"It's not, but I wouldn't offer it if I wasn't willing to help carry that burden. You don't have to bear it alone."
Maverick rested his hand atop hers. "You've done so much for me already, Juliette. I can't ask you for this too."
"You're not. I'm offering."
A ghost of a smile tugged on his lips. "Be on standby for my call when I'm on the carrier. If I need a shove to make the right decision, I know you'll do it."
"Whatever you need, whenever you need it, I've got your six, Mav. Always." Juliette squeezed his knee reassuringly, heart aching at the vulnerability in his face. She wished he didn't have to make the decision at all because he'd been through enough when it came to Bradley. Now, he had an opportunity to reconcile with him, but it came with a near impossible decision.
The doorbell rang, breaking the moment. They stood up, but before leaving, Juliette pulled Maverick into a hug, hoping to convey her support and sympathy for him through the gesture. 
"I love you, Jules. Thank you for everything," he whispered.
"I love you, too, Mav." They broke apart. "What do you say we both push aside our worries for tonight and focus on having fun?"
"Sounds like a plan." Maverick and Juliette left her dad's office, and she shut the door behind them. While Mav went to the kitchen, Jules opened the door. She found the twelve pilots and Hondo on her front porch, all carrying a homemade dessert save for Rooster and Phoenix, who both held bouquets.
"What's all this?" Juliette asked, looking at the food and flowers. 
"We wanted to bring flowers for your mom," Phoenix said, glancing at the arrangement of white roses and blue irises. It reminded Juliette of the bouquet she'd received from them, and she had no doubt the color scheme chosen for her mom was intentional. "Rooster thought it'd be nice to bring some for you too, as a thank you for the invite. The rest made desserts."
Juliette quirked an eyebrow, unable to imagine some of the pilots baking the desserts they'd brought, especially Hangman, who appeared to have made a pecan pie with the nuts placed in a neat and orderly circle spiraling outward. 
"This is absolutely amazing, and the flowers are beautiful," Juliette said sincerely, taking the bouquet from Rooster. "You didn't have to do all this, but it's very much appreciated. Come on in. We can put any desserts that need to be refrigerated in the outside fridge."
One by one, the pilots stepped inside and made their way into the kitchen. Juliette introduced her mom and brothers to each aviator, keeping a careful eye on Joey. Her eldest brother smiled as he shook each pilot's hand, but she could see the calculating look in his eyes, analyzing how much she meant to the pilots and if it was equal to how she felt about them. Joey was no idiot, sadly, and he knew there'd been an ulterior motive to this get-together. As Juliette walked past him to put her flowers in a vase, she warned him, "Play nice."
"Don't worry, Mom already warned me," he mumbled, reaching over her head for a drinking glass. Juliette took a deep breath, forcing herself not to let her brother get to her. She planned on enjoying tonight and letting his words annoy her would do nothing to help her endeavor. 
"All right, everyone!" Sarah clapped her hands, garnering everyone's attention. Grab a plate and help yourselves!"
"Cooks go first," Rooster said, motioning at the Kazansky's to dig into the array of food. The rest of the pilots agreed, so Juliette, her mom, and her brothers chose not to argue. Everyone piled their plates with food and crammed together at the table. Juliette sat between Hangman and Rooster. Maverick, her mom, and Hondo sat across from her. For the next hour, everyone ate, drank, and chatted. Even Joey, who had gone into this dinner with more than a few reservations, was joking and grinning alongside the pilots. Juliette mainly talked to those around her until she heard Payback and Fanboy mention her name.
"Are you gossiping about me down there?" she asked, staring pointedly at them.
"Just telling Joey here that you're the reason we had to do two hundred push-ups our first day of training," Payback said drolly.
"It's the last time we ever make a bet with you," Fanboy joked, pointing his fork at her. "Never underestimating you again."
"You'll never underestimate Maverick again, either," Juliette said, smiling proudly at the man across from her. 
"You had too much glee in your voice when I got shot down," Hangman remarked, smirking at her. "How'd you know Mav was going to use the sun as a blinding technique to get behind me?"
"How do you think I got the idea?" Maverick said, grinning.
"That wasn't my intention. The nickname slipped out because you-" Juliette looked up at Hangman- "were way too happy during that first fight."
Hangman snorted. "So what you're saying is if you hadn't been there, I might actually have shot Mav down?"
"Don't flatter yourself that much, Sunshine. He still would've kicked your ass."
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"You sound very confident about that."
"That's because I am."
"All right, Maverick-" Hangman turned to his instructor- "one day, I want a rematch, and I want Princess here with you because whoever shoots down the other first has to do two hundred push-ups."
"Got yourself a deal," Juliette declared, offering her hand to the pilot. He shook it. "It's a good thing you work out a lot so you can handle all those push-ups."
"Dude, I'm sorry, but I'm putting my bets on Maverick and Princess," Omaha said. 
"No faith, huh?"
"Well, yeah, but it's in Mav and Jules, not you."
"Rooster tried to warn you," Maverick added, chiming into the conversation, much to Juliette's surprise, "but I interrupted him. I couldn't let him spill my secret."
"I know what you're capable of," Rooster replied, shocking Juliette even further. Her boyfriend typically tried to avoid any interaction with Maverick outside of training. For him to willingly engage in conversation with him gave Juliette the slightest hope that perhaps his resentment was slowly melting away. 
"You've all come a long way from the first day of training. I'm proud of all of you," Maverick praised, looking each pilot in the eye, although his gaze rested a fraction longer on Bradley. 
"I'm glad you and Jules are both still here leading this training detachment," Phoenix remarked, smiling at them.
Joey frowned. "Were they not supposed to be?"
Shit... Juliette hadn't told her mom or brothers about Maverick being temporarily removed from his position, nor had she told them that she'd helped him commandeer an F-18 to prove a point. Her mom and Jack would understand, but Joey would throw a fit.
"Cyclone grounded me for a day, and Juliette helped me get my place back," Maverick answered swiftly, meeting her gaze. She could see that he recognized her family didn't know what she'd done and that she wanted to keep it that way. She shot him a grateful smile.
"Still don't know how you pulled it off, Juliette," Payback mused, shaking his head. "God help the poor souls who owed you favors."
"Who on base owes you favors?" Joey prodded, locking eyes with his sister.
Juliette didn't back down. "They weren't mine. Dad told me about them in case I ever needed to use them. I simply cashed in on them."
"I still want to know what kind of favors these people owed you that let you take up an F-18 at the last minute without Cyclone's approval," Harvard added. The others, save for Maverick, Hondo, and Rooster, nodded in agreement.
Jack choked on his drink while Sarah Kazansky raised her eyebrows at her daughter. Meanwhile, Joey demanded, "You stole an F-18?" 
"No, I called in a favor with someone other than Cyclone who could get us the plane. It was all done by the books. We merely took a different, more discreet route to do it."
Jack snorted. "I'm sure Cyclone wasn't happy about that."
"No, he was not, but it's all fine now. Maverick is back where he belongs."
"So are you," Maverick said, smiling appreciatively at her.
Hangman lifted his glass. "To Maverick and Juliette!"
"To Maverick and Juliette!" the other pilots cheered, lifting their glasses. Rooster discreetly placed his hand on Juliette's leg, smiling adoringly at her. Her heart soared at the toast. As sweet and simple as it was, it meant the world to her.
The rest of the dinner went off without a hitch. Joey remained relatively quiet after discovering how Juliette helped Maverick, but she didn't care. She was having too much fun with the pilots. After picking up the dirty dishes and placing them by the sink to be cleaned later, they played a few rounds of volleyball until they'd worked off dinner. Then everyone piled their plates with different desserts and migrated back outside to the fire pit. Juliette and Rooster snagged one of the love-seat Adirondack chairs, trying to sit close enough that they could touch each other but far enough away that no one got the wrong idea about them, even though it'd actually be the right one. Juliette still didn't want them knowing she and Rooster were dating, afraid of being accused of favoritism when it came time to choose them for the mission. 
Still, as the night wore on, and as she watched the pilots laugh, joke, and chat like there wasn't a care in the world, Juliette found herself spiraling more and more at the thought of losing any of them.
Juliette couldn't stand the idea of not seeing Hangman's cocky smile or Phoenix's sly smirk that suggested she knew the secrets of everyone here. She couldn't stand the thought of not hearing Bob's sweet southern drawl or Coyote's boisterous cheers when he scored a touchdown in dogfight football. Juliette couldn't fathom not listening to Fanboy ramble on about Star Trek and all his other favorite shows and movies or Payback humming the song 'Payback' ever since he discovered that's what Juliette's ringtone for him was. She dreaded the idea of not hearing Omaha try to convince everyone that his hometown of Omaha was a great city, or Harvard and Yale playfully bickering about which of their alma maters was better, or Fritz complaining about his tech issues on his too-old laptop, or Halo gushing about her nieces and nephews.
Most of all, the ones that nearly paralyzed her with fear were the ideas of never having Rooster or Maverick around again. Juliette couldn't bear never again receiving one of Maverick's fatherly hugs and hearing stories of his antics from his younger years, or never seeing Rooster belt out to 'Great Balls of Fire,' of never seeing her boyfriend swagger into the room in the Hawaiian shirts only he could pull off, of never having Rooster's arms around her again and making her feel like she was home. 
Heat rose in her cheeks, and it had nothing to do with how close she sat to the fire. Juliette quietly excused herself, stating she needed the bathroom and was going to get more dessert. No one batted an eye, continuing on with their conversation. It wasn't exactly a lie. She did need the bathroom and wanted more dessert, but Juliette didn't head back out the moment she'd completed what she'd gone inside for. Instead, she began unloading the dishwasher, needing to give herself a mindless task, something she knew the outcome of, in order to lessen the anxiety of the unknown ending of the mission.
While Juliette put a new load in the dishwasher, she heard the sliding glass door open. If anyone asked, she already had a plan to tell them she saw the dishes and simply wanted to help her mom by getting another load going. That plan flew out the window when Rooster entered and said, "I came to check on you. You've been gone a little too long for a bathroom break and to grab some dessert, and judging by the fact you're cleaning-"
"What does that have to do with anything?" Juliette countered a little too quickly.
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"You clean when you're anxious." Rooster joined her side and, much to her relief, didn't prod about what was on her mind. He probably already knew anyways. It's what was always on her mind: the impending mission and her dad's death. Instead, he silently helped her finish the dishes and clean more of the kitchen. On the one hand, Juliette wanted him to pull her into his arms and hold her, letting the stress she was holding in momentarily melt away. On the other hand, she knew if Rooster did such a thing, she would most likely break down with the thoughts that had just been in her head mere minutes ago, and she didn't want anyone walking in on that.
As they finished up and were about to head back outside, their group entered, yawning and stretching.
"I think we're going to head back," Phoenix said, setting her plate down next to the sink. "Do you need help with anything before we leave?"
"Absolutely not," Sarah Kazansky declared, shaking her head. "I want all of you to go back to base and get some rest for training tomorrow. You have a big mission coming up, and I want all of you at the top of your game for it."
"Yes, ma'am," the pilots echoed.
"Rooster, you're staying, right?" Jack queried casually. "We still need to catch up. It's been too long."
"Wait-" Coyote motioned between the two men- "you know each other?"
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"Yeah. We go way back." Jack walked past Juliette, winking at her on his way as a silent 'You're welcome.' She smiled gratefully at him. They could be the best of friends or the worst of enemies, and tonight, Jack was on her side. 
"We're all old friends," Juliette added, wanting to avoid her brothers spilling the beans about hers and Rooster's past. The pilots didn't need to know that. Not yet.
With that said, no one else inquired about Rooster's relationship with the Kazanskys, and the pilots bid everyone goodnight. As they shuffled down the sidewalk, Payback and Fanboy shouted over their shoulders, "See you at training, Princess!"
"See you tomorrow!" she hollered back, grinning. While her mom, Rooster, and Jack returned inside to continue cleaning the kitchen, Juliette and Joey remained outside. They stayed there until all the aviators had gotten in their cars and drove out of sight. Then, as Jules shut the door, Jack asked, "Can we talk?"
***
Tags: @lgg5989 @shanimallina87 @polikszena @summ3rlotus @souslesyeuxde @gleasonmalfoy @icemansgirl1999 @supernaturaldawning @thedarkinmansfield @lyannaforpresident @lapilark @getmyprettynameoutofyourmouth @simpofthecentury @shadeops21 @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @double-j @picklejuicesposts @bradshawsandbridgetons @majdoline @ophesworld @jakexfmc
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nctsworld · 4 years ago
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fire alarm
✩ mark x reader | college au | fluff | 1.7k 
SUMMARY ⇾ when your dorm building’s fire alarm goes off in the middle of the night and everyone’s outside, you offer to share your blanket with your shivering, cute neighbour. WARNINGS ⇾ fluff, couple of swear words RATING ⇾ teen+ 
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⇾ gif created by me, please don’t repost or share without credit!
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You started to drift into deep sleep when the sudden blares of the dorm’s fire alarm stirs you awake. 
Your groans are muffled in your pillow, frustrated that this is probably another false alarm like usual. With heavy eyes, you rush to grab your phone and keys, stuff your feet into your shoes, and waddle among the crowd of students, departing the building with your blanket over your shoulders as a make-shift jacket.   
The moment you reach the front of the building where everyone safely coalesces, you glance at your phone as you tug at the ends of your blanket around your chest. 3:08am glows back at you, along with a couple other notifications. You barely get the chance to check them since the blatant chattering of teeth nearby catches your attention instead. 
Your gaze rests on the familiar figure a few steps beside you, rubbing his arms up and down while his legs tremble. Peering around, you realize you’re one of the few who brought more than a jacket for extra warmth during this chill, autumn night. On the other hand, he’s one of the few who hardly had any layers, solely wearing a baggy red t-shirt and a pair of boxers. 
His face swivels side to side, searching the crowd, and it dawns on you that it’s none other than your next door neighbour, Mark. 
His dorm room was to the left of yours. You’ve only interacted with him in passing, regularly acknowledging each other with casual nods and smiles. His sweet smile never failed to make your heart race and to make the corners of your mouth widen further. You didn’t know much about him, except for the fact he played guitar since you occasionally heard him play late at night. 
You always wanted to get to know him, but neither of you shared the same classes nor were you in the same clubs. To make matters worse, the only time you saw one another was when either of you were coming or going.
Perhaps now was the time to finally make a move. 
Lifting your blanket off the pavement, you shuffle your way towards him. As you near him, it clicks in your head that you didn’t initially recognize him because, besides the lack of clothes and the slightly messy hair, he’s wearing glasses to boot. 
“Hey, neighbour.”  
Mark stops his searching and his focus lands on you. The handsome individual steps closer to shorten the space between you, displaying his signature smile. You grip onto your blanket tighter and the weight of your shoulders droop, allowing your face to shyly sink into the sea of fabric covering you. 
The shivering man says your name and replies with a cool, “Hey.” 
“Do you want to share the blanket with me?” 
“Oh, no. It’s okay, I’m all right,” he stammers with a shake of his head, continuing to rub his arms.  
You perk an eyebrow and open one of your arms out, offering him the promise of warmth. 
Beaming, you say, “There’s enough room for another.”
His mouth twists to one side of his face, the gears in his head obviously turning. 
“Are you sure?”       
A hum, nod, and a grin answer his uncertainty. Mark swiftly grasps onto the end of the blanket and wraps himself over his shoulder. Although the heat from the front of your body flees due to the partial sacrifice of your cover, you’re now having an extra source of heat from being right next to Mark, touching shoulder to shoulder. 
“Thanks,” he bobs his head. “I appreciate it. I just bolted out of bed and didn’t think of even bringing a jacket.” 
“That’s okay, that’s why you have me,” you joke, swaying and pressing your shoulder lightly against his. 
Both of you chuckle softly. There’s something else to add to the list of things that are keeping you warm—the prickling rising from your chest to your cheeks. 
You then comment, “I’ve never seen you with glasses before. I almost didn’t recognize you.” 
“Ah, yeah, I wear contacts during the day. Depending on stuff, I sometimes wear my glasses, but not as often.” 
“Well, I think you look good either way.” 
Your eyes practically fall and roll away from your head, cognizant of the words that just escaped your mouth. 
“I mean—” You snap your eyes shut for an extended beat, not wanting to see the look on your next door crush’s face. “You know what, let’s just pretend I didn’t say that out loud.” 
Exhaling a lengthy sigh, you turn to face the opposite direction, now regretting your offer to share your blanket with him. 
Your regret leads you to miss the way his face lights up. 
“Hey, no, thanks for the compliment.” 
Under the blanket, his fingers gingerly graze over yours for a fleeting moment, which causes you to shift your head towards him again. The tips of your noses are almost touching. His twinkling eyes are locked on you, but yours are veering everywhere else except on him. 
“If it makes you feel any better, I think you look good too.” 
With that, your gaze finally lands on Mark.  
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” 
You want to continue the conversation, you really do, but you’re at a loss of words and are too busy getting lost in the galaxy of his eyes from up-close. From the way he’s not tearing his eyes away either, a little part of you wonders if he harbours an infatuation with you as well. He couldn’t possibly, right? 
Despite being practically strangers, the silent, intense aura blooms as time passes. Your respective breaths brush against each other’s lips and it’d be so easy to just lean in to meet the other’s—
Suddenly, the tension is cut short as everyone begins to sluggishly amble their way back into the building. 
Although nothing really transpired, you break apart simultaneously like someone caught you two doing something you shouldn’t. Mark lets you have your blanket all to yourself once more and both of you head back side by side in comfortable silence.  
After walking up the flight of stairs, trailing behind all the other residents of the building, you finally reach your respective doors. 
“It was nice to see you,” you say, pulling your keys out and inserting the fitting one into your lock. 
“Yeah, thanks for sharing your blanket with me. I really appreciate it.” 
“Anytime, neighbour,” you glance up at him from your hand. His whole body faces you and his mouth is agape like he’s itching to say something. On second thought, he presses his lips together and feels around his body for his keys. Realization hits him in the face. 
“Shit,” he bangs his forehead against the door, deterring you from entering your home abode. “I forgot my keys inside.” 
Mark turns to you with a scrunched face. Even in a state of frustration, how could someone be so cute? “Sorry to ask, but can I borrow your phone?” 
“Oh, yeah. Of course.” You don’t hesitate to scramble and hand it over to him. 
He mumbles a quick thanks, rubbing the back of his head. When he finishes entering a number to dial-in, he holds the phone against his ear and leans the side of head against his door, still facing you. You stand there awkwardly, eyes wavering between the adorable phone borrower and the handful of people in the hallway trickling back into their dorms. 
After the third unanswered ring, a bold offer impulsively escapes your lips.  
“You know, you can stay at my place overnight if you need to.” 
Oh, no. Shit. Why brain, why?
You don’t register your brazenness until the fifth ring, when Mark’s jaw is hanging and his eyebrows are glued to the ceiling. Okay, maybe you can save the moment by saying it was a joke or—
“Hello?” you overhear a muffled grumble on the other end. 
The shock dissolves away from his face. “Oh, hey. Sorry to wake you, Johnny. It’s Mark…” 
Utter embarrassment. This time, you can’t save yourself from your impetuous words. Millions of possibilities run through your mind, including abandoning your phone for him to keep and then moving to another building. No, moving to another college. Actually, Mars sounds like an even better idea. 
You’re so deep in your overdramatic thoughts, your face in a pinch behind your blanket, that you don’t even realize Mark’s already done with his call. 
“Thanks.” His voice breaks you away from your thoughts, eyelids shooting open. He must’ve stepped closer while you weren’t looking because he’s now in front of you, dangling your device from his fingertips. You gently grasp the phone, jointly holding it with him. 
“And about your offer…” You cringe, ready for him to ignore your existence until the end of time. You officially ruined everything, and nothing has even happened yet. 
“How about we go on a date first?” 
Your head shoots up at his proposition. Did you hear that right? 
“Then, maybe when the fire alarm goes off again next time and I forget my keys, I’ll take you up on it.”
It could be because it’s almost 4am and you’re teetering on sleep, or you’re purely stricken, but all you could do is nod mindlessly and squeak, “Sure.”    
A heartstopping smile rolls over his face. “I was hoping you’d say that. I took the liberty of adding myself to your contacts and sent a text to my phone.” 
Mark releases your phone from his grip and begins to walk backwards towards the stairs, suppressing his desire to stay with you for a little while more. But, it’s late and it’s not like this was the last time he’d see you. You are neighbours after all. 
Waving, he whisper-shouts in the hallway, “I’ll text you back first thing when I can. Have a good night!” 
You subtly wave back, still huddling your blanket over your shoulders. When he disappears from your line of sight, you enter your room and flop onto your bed with a jubilant sigh. 
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Following knocks at his door, a slit-eyed Johnny is welcomed by a vivacious friend. Too vivacious for 4am. 
“Dude, you won’t believe what just happened. Remember that cute neighbour I’ve been telling you about?...” 
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Maybe (and thankfully) there wasn’t an actual fire, but another one was certainly beginning to kindle. 
And neither of you had the intention of extinguishing it any time soon. 
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spencerreidsconverse · 4 years ago
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When Evil Doesn't Sleep
summary: Spencer has been gone far too long on a case and when he finally returns home, reader shows him just how much she missed him.
word count: 3.4k
warnings: smut, implied dom/sub undertones, pet names
Pairing: Spencer Reid/Female Reader
A/N: My first fic!!! I hope you all enjoy! <3
“Y/n I’m really sorry but it looks like the case is going to take a lot longer than we thought. We had a recent development and the profile is now pointing to a partnership so now we’re hunting down two unsubs”. You sighed as Spencer rattled off his apologies through the phone before putting him out of his misery “Spencer honey, you don’t have to apologize. Quit worrying about me and focus on catching the bad guys.”
To say you missed Spencer would be the understatement of the century. He had been in Utah for six days already and now with a pair of psychos your odds of finding him in your bed by the end of the week were growing increasingly slim. It didn’t help that you had been swamped prepping for an extra class you’d agreed to take on at Georgetown where you worked as a Criminal Psychology professor. Between both of your hectic work schedules you hadn’t had a real weekend to yourselves in a few months, and while you knew when you first started dating Spencer that it was an inevitable of his job, it had never been this crazy before. They say evil never sleeps but lately it hasn't even taken a catnap.
“I love you Y/N. I promise I’ll come home to you soon and take you out on a real date. I’m sorry darling, I have to go. I’ll text you when I get to the hotel tonight and if you’re still up we can talk for a bit okay?”. “Alright Spence, I love you too. Stay safe okay?”. “I promise, goodbye love.”
Your farewell barely made it past your lips when the dial tone cut you off and once again your boyfriend of three years vanished from your side of the country. You let out an exasperated sigh before reminding yourself that there were other people who needed his help and that you could wait for his attention - at least until that night. Continuing the trek up the stairs of your and spencer’s shared apartment, you managed to haphazardly balance your grocery bags in one hand while unlocking the door and disabling the security alarm, internally cringing at the high shriek that rattled through your brain.
Walking through the living room, you sat the bags on your kitchen counter and began reorganizing the small fridge space to fit all the perishables you had brought home, absentmindedly hoping they wouldn't spoil now that it would be just you for several more days. Moving to the cupboard you replaced the few grab and go snack boxes you had made up to try and encourage Spencer to eat more throughout the day and refilled the paper plate stash that quickly became a requirement after you realized neither one of you could tolerate doing dishes every night. You ripped open the cardboard packaging of yet another microwave dinner and set the timer before leaving to change into more comfortable attire.
Opening the door of your shared bedroom, the smell of vanilla wax melts and dryer sheets hit you like a brick and immediately sent a pang of loneliness through your chest. Spencer was usually around by the time the chores needed done, and you rarely had to do them yourself. Unfortunately, the laundry was piling up and you needed something to distract you so you spent the day running errands and cleaning the apartment more thoroughly than necessary. You walked over to the stack of black dresser drawers and pulled out the first pair of pajama pants you touched, Spencer’s old caltech sweats that now fit you far better than him considering he had received them when he was 14. They looked more like capris on him now and it was embarrassingly difficult to convince him to buy a new pair that fit him properly. You slipped on a tank top and pulled your hair back before making your way lazily to the bathroom to take off the remnants of your simple makeup.
After scrubbing your face clean and pulling your dinner out, you moved to ready the couch for yet another night of binge watching cheesy 90s movies. You selected Clueless and watched the vibrant colors pop across the screen while you dived into your meal, making a poor attempt to ignore the slight freezer burnt taste that lingered after every bite. You finished your dinner and set the bowl aside before covering yourself with a blanket and allowing yourself to sink into the cushions, desperately awaiting Spencer's text.
You were jolted out of your doze by the loud buzzing of your phone against the wooden coffee table. Clumsily you reached for it and managed to swipe the answer pad before it sent your genius to voicemail. “Hello?” you managed before a yawn ripped its way through you suddenly. “Hey Y/N, I’m sorry it’s so late. I didn't mean to wake you, I figured you’d still be up. You should go back to bed love.” For the first time, you noticed the neon green numbers on the microwave. 12:30. You stifled another yawn and shook your head in an effort to wake yourself further “No way, I just dozed off while watching a movie. I was waiting to talk to you. Besides, I’m up now anyways so you might as well stay on with me for a bit. Did you get any further today?” “Well, JJ had the idea that the partners were originally a typical dominant/submissive partnership but that something in the dynamic must have changed because the MO began to deteriorate. We think the partners must have split up now, because we’re finding similar pieces of the previous MO at separate crime scenes.”.
You processed the information he fed you slowly due to your semiconscious state but eventually you put your words in order well enough to respond. “That should be helpful though yeah? I mean, they’re used to working in a partnership so being suddenly separated from your other half so to speak would throw you off track quite a bit right?”. You could practically hear him smiling through the phone as you drew the conclusions the team had come to only a few hours prior. “Yes. We’re hoping to be able to draw them out and trap them. Play them against each other.”.”Does that mean I can stop sleeping on the couch soon?”. You heard him let out a dejected sigh - you knew he hated that you would force yourself onto the cramped couch when you had a king sized bed a few hundred feet away but he understood.
When he had come home in the early hours of the morning after an abrupt end to a case a few weeks after you had moved into his place, he had caught you curled up on the sofa with a throw pillow stuffed under your head. When he questioned you about it the next morning, you simply answered that the bed felt too big without him and that you couldn’t stand the empty feeling. “Sooner than later I hope my love. Y/N I really wish you wouldn’t do that to yourself. It’s horrible for your body. It can put you at a much higher risk for chronic back and neck pain as well as-”. “Spence. I’m not a giant like you are. I fit on the couch much better than you do, and I barely notice the difference.”. You both cringed, hearing the lie clear in your voice. Still, Spencer must have felt bad because he humored you. “If you're sure. What did you do today my love?”. You smiled sadly hearing in his voice just how desperate he was to escape from his reality and come home to you.
”Well, I straightened the house. In fact, it’s so clean i think we could use it as a sterilization room.”. He let out a soft chuckle and you could hear him begin to relax as you recounted the rest of your day, excluding the part about the microwave dinner. Spencer loved to tell you how many of the ingredients were one step away from processed garbage and you decided to opt out of the lecture for the evening. He had more than enough to worry about without having to focus on your diet while he was away. After a half hour of light conversation, a loud yawn betrayed you as you were excitedly discussing the cute puppy you had met on the way to the market. Spencer immediately requested that you hang up and get some more sleep but you refused. After a few minutes of bickering, you relented on the condition that he would read to you until you had fallen asleep. You curled up under the fluffy blanket as Spencer’s even voice recited the collection of Grimm’s fairy tales quickly lured you to sleep.
You woke up the next morning as sunlight peered through the curtains, stretching your body out to ease the aches from the previous night. You smiled softly as your screen lit up with a text from Spencer wishing you a good morning and an update that they had a solid plan for boxing in the two unsubs that afternoon. “If all goes to plan I should be carrying you to our bed before midnight tonight.”. Your smile widened and you sent back “Can’t wait to truly see you - and love you- tonight. I’ll be waiting.” You plugged your phone into the charger and straightened up from the night before when your phone went off again. The one word message glared at you from the screen and you let out an involuntary giggle. “Tease.”. You hoped it gave him something to look forward to until he was back in your arms. You sent back a simple “XO” before deciding to reread one of your favorite books for a few hours to kill some time. You made yourself a sandwich for lunch and had a few glasses of water as the clock slowly ticked by. You were over halfway through the lengthy novel when you received another message.
“We apprehended both unsubs. Hotch is postponing the paperwork until Monday so we can go straight home. I’ll see you in a few hours baby.”.  You jumped slightly in celebration before finishing your current chapter, marking your place, and all but skipping to the shower to shave and exfoliate your skin. You knew Spencer would still be heavily worked up once he arrived home and luckily, his favorite release included intertwining your bodies as close as possible and loving you sweetly and slowly.
You took your time in the shower careful not to nick yourself with your razor. You scrubbed your scalp with your nails, letting your stress and soreness melt away under the steam. You waited until the water ran cold before turning the knob and stepping out, wrapping yourself in a fluffy towel and blow drying your hair until it layed perfectly even. You applied lotion all over your skin and stepped out of the bathroom to slip on your black silk robe, knowing it wouldn’t be worth it to dress up further. Spencer would be desperate to feel your skin against his and any fabric in his way didn't stand much of a chance.
You made an actual meal for dinner, a pasta dish with chicken that could be easily reheated for Spencer when he grew hungry later in the night. You helped yourself to a serving and after quickly cleaning up the kitchen and storing the leftovers, you retreated to the bedroom to wait for his return.
You were half paying attention to the feed you opted to scroll through on your phone when you heard the door creak open and bags drop to the floor. You set your phone on the bedside table and ran towards the foyer, all but throwing yourself at the exhausted man in front of you. He took a step back from the impact but still enveloped you in his arms and pulled you impossibly tight into his chest. “Hi baby.” you whispered against the scruffy skin of his jawline, peppering kisses up towards his earlobe. He let out a long sigh of relief and picked you up off the hardwood floor, wrapping your thighs around his waist resulting in a high pitched giggle to erupt from your throat. He kissed you then, slowly at first but quickly building more passionate. Your lungs were burning when he finally allowed you to pull away, opting to kiss down your neck to your collarbones and the skin of your chest that was newly exposed as your robe slipped open.
He carefully made his way back to your room, continuing his kisses back up to your shoulder, stopping only to leave marks you knew would only grow darker as time passed. At the very least he was sure to only mark you in places you could cover with little difficulty. “I missed you so much Y/N. The entire ride home all I could think about was you waiting for me in our bed. My gorgeous girl.”. You felt your chest heat up at his words of admiration, wrapping your fingers into his curls and pulling his lips towards your own once more.
You felt him groan against you and moved to quickly unbutton his shirt, slipping it down his arms and tossing it in the general direction of the hamper. He pulled you up with him then, so you were both on your knees, chest to chest as he pulled your robe fully down your back to the swell of your ass where he grasped at you through the slick fabric. You let out a whine and you pulled his belt off, undoing his jeans desperate to continue. He grinned against your neck and pushed you down so you laid flat on your back, completely exposed to him. He kissed at your stomach, making his way down to your inner thighs. He licked a slow wet trail from your pelvic bone to the top of your clit as you whimpered desperately. “Spence, please… I need more”. He humored you, creating slow small circles with his tongue moaning at the taste. You cried out as he created the perfect amount of pressure on your clit, legs threatening to close around his head when he moved to slip one of his fingers easily inside you as the mix of your own wetness and his saliva aided him. He smirked as he felt your thighs flex before using his left hand to throw one of your legs over his shoulders at a time. He pushed a second finger in, curling them up to perfectly reach your g-spot with every thrust. Soon though, you grew impatient with just his fingers. You needed more and you knew just how to get it.
“I want you so bad Spence. I’ve waited for so long and I just can’t anymore. I need to feel you deep inside of me.”. You were positive those words would leave him just as needy as you were and he proved you right when he kicked his pants the rest of the way off and went to line himself up against you. “Wait.”. He stopped immediately, examining your face for any indication of what was wrong. “What’s the matter baby? Are you okay?”. You shook your head and smiled at his concern before switching your positions so his back was resting against the pillows as you straddle his thighs. He smirked at you as he caught on, trailing his hands up the front of your legs to rest at your hips. “You gonna ride me angel?”. You responded with an eager nod and he squeezed your hips, pulling you up further so you were hovering above him. “Sit pretty like my good girl then.”. You whined softly at his words before slowly sinking yourself down around his length, sucking in a harsh breath at the stretch. Even with how wet you were, the adjustment took longer than usual due to the dry spell you were both suffering from as of late.
When you finally felt stretched out enough to move, you slowly ground your hips forward flush against his. He groaned out, lifting you back up so you were almost completely off of him before pulling you back down. You moaned both at the sensation and the idea of being manhandled by the genius below you. You realized what he was asking though, and began bouncing yourself up and down his cock, stopping every few thrusts to grind your clit down on him. You let out soft moans, and after a few more minutes you felt his fingers dig deeper into your hips and his breaths quicken. You knew he was close and as if on cue you started rubbing fast circles against your clit as he spoke again.
“Baby girl I’m getting close. You gonna cum with me angel?” You nodded furiously in response and you felt him start thrusting up to meet you. You panted as you hurried towards the edge of your orgasm, holding on until his thrusts grew sloppier. “You ready to cum with me baby? You gonna cum on my cock?” “Yeah.. gonna cum all over your cock Doc.” You fought to keep the grin off your face when he moaned at the title. He thrusted deep into you twice, before he ordered your release. “I want you to cum now baby. Cum all over my cock.” You felt your orgasm rip through you, electricity shooting through your limbs. Spencer groaned loudly as you tightened around him before pulling you down deep and releasing inside you.
You both fought to catch your breath as you rode out your highs before you found yourself slumping against his chest, suddenly drained from your activities. You felt him chuckle at your drastic change in energy as he wrapped his arms around you again. “I know you just washed the bed sheets and we’re both sweaty but do you think a washcloth will suffice for tonight?”. You nodded against his chest before slowly lifting yourself up and off of him, rolling onto your back on the other side of the bed. Spencer swiftly made his way across the hall, returning to wipe you down gently with the warm fabric. You shivered as the cool air dried your skin, watching him move throughout your room.
He slipped on a fresh pair of boxers before tossing the washcloth in the hamper along with his previously discarded clothes. He hung your robe on the back of your bedroom door then flipped the light switch off before rejoining you in bed to slip under the blankets with you. You immediately curled up into his chest, sighing contently as the sound of his heartbeat filled your ears. You kissed his chest and whispered goodnight, drifting into your first real sleep since before he left.
The next morning you and Spencer went shopping after you successfully convinced him to upgrade to a smart phone with video call abilities. He had begun to shut down the idea as he always had before but after the mere suggestion of what it could do to better your late night hotel room chats he was the one pulling you towards the nearest phone shop. You smiled politely while Spencer took his sweet time weighing the pros and cons of each model, letting your mind drift to the first time it would come in handy. As you finally neared the checkout counter, you took Spencer's hand in your own and gave it a gentle squeeze. After running his card through the machine, the salesgirl gave him the small plastic bag and wished you both a good afternoon.
As you exited the shop, you looked up at him, nudging him to get his attention “What do you think of an app controlled vibrator?”. He stared at you incredulously for a few moments, almost stopping dead in his tracks. After recovering from the initial shock at the vulgarity of your suggestion, he shook his head with a soft smirk and nudged back against you. “Tease.” he called you once more. “That’s the reason you love me right?”. He pulled you into his side, kissing you softly. “One of many Y/N. One of many.”
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