#it's gonna be a lot harder for someone to physically enter your house and read the passwords from a journal under your mattress

[doomed-jester]

Let's be real, if anyone actually cares about online security then they have unique passwords for every site that are just an incomprehensible string of characters. And they wouldn't use a digital keychain, they'd keep that shit written in a physical journal that they shove under their mattress when they're not actively transcribing a password.

[taeyongdoyoung]

summary: as someone who’s been tormented for being a nerd, you’ve never viewed your friendly teasing towards your best friend seonghwa as bullying. but that is until he completely changes his style and image in school, confronting you about your past behaviour, so you have no choice but to admit the real reason why you’ve been making fun of him...

pairing: popular boy!seonghwa x nerd!reader

genre: high school!AU (the characters are 18 for the spicy parts huehehe), best friends to fake dating to lovers, angst, romance, smut, fluff

warnings: friendly teasing, clichéd/unrealistic portrayal of high school dynamics, hwa does kabedon on yn like once, seonghwa’s a bit of a tsundere, fake dating, hints of possessiveness, slightly problematic remarks, yn is briefly hwa’s slave?! (no, i will not elaborate), bullying, mean girls, insults, hair-pulling, kicking, death threats, some swearing, self-blame, power play, overuse of pet names (princess, baby, little girl, etc.), sir kink (i won’t apologize lol), begging, yunho being nosy (yes, that’s a warning), mention of hypothetical collars, insecurities, making out, loss of virginities, lots of kissing, soft dom!hwa, eating out, fingering, blowjob, consensual protected sex, dirty talk, praising, aftercare, crying, hurt&comfort, a lot of dorky references (cuz that’s me, after all), jumping off a balcony (don’t try this at home!), happy ending

author’s note: will i ever stop bullying poor hwa’s kermit hoodie? no. jk, i lov him so much, he’s so talented & gorgeous no matter what he wears ;-;

disclaimer: all jokes aside, i do not in any way condone bullying and this work is entirely fictional for entertainment purposes! i’ve been physically and emotionally tormented in school and though i have not talked much about it, i do not wish such an experience to anyone! treating people with kindness is cool and i hope everyone spreads more love! ❤️

word count: 9.4k

Having been best friends with Seonghwa for four years now (ever since your first year in high school), you couldn’t help but making fun of every little adorable thing he did. And honestly, you admired his patience when it came to putting up with your incessant teasing. Diligently cleaning up everything after him? You’d call him a neat freak. Not being able to drink coffee? You’d call him a teacup loser. 

So, when he started wearing that green hoodie of his to school, you couldn’t resist the temptation to call him Kermit the frog. And at first, it all started as a joke. But then the nickname kinda stuck and you just kept addressing him as Kermit, even if he wasn’t wearing the delectable green hoodie. And at one point, you could tell that poor Seonghwa was not a huge fan of the whole thing. But he never called you out on it or told you to stop. He never teased you back for being a hopeless nerd who studied 24/7 and read books for fun. So, you kept going.

Until the summer before your last year in high school arrived. Sadly, Seonghwa was going to be out of the country for the whole vacation. You were going to miss him terribly, you realized. You had become so used to seeing him everyday that you couldn’t imagine how you’d last three months without being able to see his pretty face all the time. You’d occasionally text him memes and ask him what he was up to. But as the summer was coming to an end, his replies became less and less frequent, more and more concise. You kept wondering if you’d done something wrong. It couldn’t be the Kermit thing, you began telling yourself. After all, it was normal to tease your best friend every once in a while. Right?

When the first day of your last year in high school came, you were nervously anticipating the moment when you’d see Seonghwa again. Summer without him had been so boring and you couldn’t wait to hug him again and find a new thing to joke about.

The second you saw him, you instinctively knew there would be no more joking around. Seonghwa practically walked into the school hallway like he owned the place. He’d completely changed his style and overall image. Gone were the dorky hoodies you secretly loved so much. Instead, they were replaced by a black leather jacket. Gone were the casual sweatpants he looked so good in. In their place were dark jeans that made him look kinda dangerous. And the whole confidence with which he carried himself was just totally different. 

If you had known that a summer abroad could change a person so much, you would have tried harder at convincing him to stay in the country. On top of it all, he was now hanging out with a bunch of popular a-holes that you had never talked to before. Honestly, you couldn’t even gather the courage to approach your best friend. He looked so distant and unfamiliar that you couldn’t help but feel a little hurt. Especially when you heard him laughing at the cool kids’ jokes. That should have been you...

You remembered when you were the one making him giggle, as if it was a century ago, when in reality it was just a couple of months. You kept sighing during the whole day, not daring to even talk to him. If he wanted to still hang out with you after his sudden “change in status”, he would, you kept convincing yourself. But he didn’t. In fact, he ignored you the whole day, making you feel like shit.

Just as you were leaving the school building in a hurry, mentally prepared for an evening of crying your eyes out and eating ice cream, you felt a hand grabbing you tightly. Turning around, you were surprised to find Seonghwa’s eyes staring back at you.

“Hi, princess,” he greeted you calmly.

“H-hi, S-seonghwa,” you responded dumbly.

“What? No witty comeback?” Seonghwa scoffed, smirking.

“What are you talking about?”

“Aren’t you gonna bully me and call me names again? Kermit? Teacup loser? Neat freak? What’s it gonna be this time?” he spat out, pushing you against the school wall and extending his arms to touch the cold bricks so that you would feel trapped.

“Bully you?” you whispered in disbelief. “H-hwa, I wasn’t...I didn’t m-mean...”

“Oh, yeah?” he mocked your stuttering self. “Then, why did you say all these things, huh?”

“You know why,” you replied.

“No, I don’t. So, tell me right now or I swear, I can make your existence a living hell,” Seonghwa threatened.

“Because I like you, you idiot!” you cried out. “I like you so that’s why I’ve been teasing you. Because if I didn’t, I would have to admit how attractive I find all your habits. How adorable it is when you used to tidy your desk and how sexy you looked in that damned green hoodie. There, I said it. Are you happy now?”

You were so frustrated with the way he ignored you all day only to accuse you of bullying him that you ducked your head swiftly beneath his arm, simultaneously bending your knees, and, thus, successfully escaping from Seonghwa’s ambush.

“Y/N, wait!” he called after you, but you were running too fast and luck was on your side, as the bus arrived at that exact same moment, allowing you to get on it, before he could.

You couldn’t sleep much that night, tormented by the fact Seonghwa had confused your friendly jokes with bullying and how foolishly you’d confessed your feelings for him. You were certain that your affections were unrequited and now that he had this whole new position in the school hierarchy, he would undoubtedly make fun of you for them. You were even considering transferring to another school to avoid the potential embarrassment.

In the morning, no sooner had you finished breakfast in the comfort of your room than you heard loud honks. They were unlike the ones in your dad’s car so you couldn’t help but wonder what jerk had decided to park in front of your house and make your day even worse.

“Sweetie,” your mom informed you a bit after. “Your friend Seonghwa is here. He said he’ll drive you to school today. As promised.”

“He did?” you mumbled in confusion. But maybe because you weren’t ready to talk to your mom yet about what happened yesterday, you lied. “Ah, that’s right, I almost forgot.”

Hurriedly, you grabbed your bag and practically sprinted downstairs. You were curious to see what he wanted. And that’s exactly what you asked the minute you entered his car.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

“Aw, no good morning for me, princess?” Seonghwa pouted and God, you hated how cute you found him after the way he’d treated you the previous day. “What does it look like I’m doing?” he rolled his eyes, starting the engine. “I’m driving you to school.”

“I can see that. But why?” you hissed.

“Well, someone got up on the wrong side of the bed,” he groaned. “If you’re so insistent on finding out, I’ll tell you. Ever since you told me how you felt yesterday, I’ve been thinking...And I’ve come to the conclusion that you have two options. Option number one is to enjoy your hellish last year of high school. You’ve had your fair share of teasing me so I’m definitely going to enjoy telling everyone about your little crush on me. It’s going to be so much fun to embarrass you in front of the whole school.”

What the fuck was wrong with him? Seonghwa was supposed to be your best friend! Why was he suddenly acting like you were worth less than a dirty rug? Was it possible that he had changed so much in the span of three months? Or was he always like that? Had you been blinded by his good looks? No, that definitely wasn’t the case. Seonghwa was the sweetest guy you’d ever known. How did he get so...cold? Cold enough to chill your bones.

“And what’s option number two?” you grunted, already anticipating the worst.

“So, there’s this annoying girl in our class I want to avoid at all costs. Just because her parents are doing business with mine does not mean I’m into her. Option number two is for us to pretend we’re dating in school. Considering how much you like me, I’m assuming it won’t be very difficult for you to pretend. If you agree, that is.”

What a jerk...You shared your sincere feelings with your best friend and that’s the first thing that crossed his mind? To use you in order to avoid some random girl? If it was any other guy, you would have said no. If you weren’t desperate for even a fraction of Seonghwa’s time and attention, you would have said no. If you weren’t so pathetically whipped for him, you would have said no.

“I’ll do it,” you said. “For how long do you need me to be your fake girlfriend?”

“Just until graduation. Then, we’ll fake break up and each go our separate ways. How does that sound?”

It sounded terrible! You wanted Seonghwa to be a part of your life forever. But with the way he was treating you, you weren’t confident he felt the same way anymore.

“Sounds great,” you lied, because you couldn’t give him the satisfaction of hearing your thoughts. You’d never be perceived as weak again.

The second you walked into school, Seonghwa’s arm wrapped possessively around your shoulder, everyone’s eyes were on you. It was like high-schoolers had no better thing to occupy their time with but to gossip around the latest dating news. If you weren’t enjoying his company so much, you would have found their reactions pathetic. And somewhat unnerving.

“When did you two lovebirds start seeing each other?” one of Seonghwa’s popular friends Yunho asked.

“Oh, you know what they say. A girl and a guy can’t stay just friends for long,” Seonghwa responded.

You internally rolled your eyes. Your best friend before the summer would have never said such a thing. Whatever the reason for his current behaviour was, you would get to the bottom of it. And right now, you felt like going along with this whole fake dating thing was your best chance at unraveling the mystery.

For the first day of your little arrangement, everything seemed to be going fine. Everyone was staring at you two but you didn’t mind. All you cared about was him. However, soon enough Seonghwa started asking you for weird things.

“Carry my bag for me.” / “Get me a drink from the vending machine, will you?” / “Bring me a snack from the supermarket across the street.” / “Oh, and for my friends, too, doll.”

Seriously, it was getting infuriating. You no longer felt like you were his bestie. You didn’t even feel like you were his fake girlfriend. At this point, you had practically become his slave! Running any errand and carrying his stuff for him. But what was the alternative? If you refused to play your part in this pretend dating scheme, he could easily turn against you and make fun of you in front of the whole school. So, you kept your mouth shut and swallowed your pride.

One evening, around a month after the fake dating agreement had started, you had stayed in the library a bit longer to prepare for an upcoming assignment. By the time you were out of the school building, you supposed that Seonghwa had already gone home. Frankly, the only nice thing he was intent on doing for you was driving you to school and back to your place most of the days.

As you were making your way towards the bus stop, you had the strangest suspicion you were being followed. Not daring to turn around, you started walking faster. But unfortunately, your attackers also sped up and soon enough, you were surrounded by a group of angry faces. Their leader was obviously Eunhee, the most popular girl in the whole school. And coincidentally, this was also the girl whose parents were doing business with Seonghwa’s parents. The very reason you were fake dating your best friend in the first place.

“Well, if it isn’t the little bookshrimp,” she mocked you, sticking a sharp nail into your chest. You didn’t bother correcting her that the right term was bookworm. You were already in enough trouble as it was. For some reason, teasing Seonghwa had been easy because you meant well and you were sure he wouldn’t hurt you. Not really. Because he knew how badly you’d been bullied in middle school. But now that you were met with so many threatening figures, you froze rightaway, unable to defend yourself.

“Just l-leave me alone,” you stammered.

“Aw, aren’t you a little pathetic shrimpie?” Eunhee cooed and started pulling your hair harshly and kicking you onto the ground. The other girls were holding you down so that you wouldn’t fight back. “Did you seriously believe you can steal Seonghwa from me? We’re meant to be together and if you stand in our way, I will fucking kill you!”

“S-stop, you’re hurting me!” you exclaimed sorrowfully. You tried your best to shield yourself and push her away but her loyal minions were preventing you from doing so. Just as Eunhee was about to slap you across the face, you witnessed as her threatening hand was stopped mid-air by the interloper whose features you couldn’t quite discern in the dark. But whose voice you would recognize anywhere.

“You think you’re so brave?” Seonghwa yelled at Eunhee and her friends. “Ganging up on her like that? Six against one? You’re the pathetic ones.”

“Hwa, we were just trying to teach her a lesson. She should learn her place, after all,” Eunhee tried to explain.

“A lesson?” he scoffed. “You dumbasses can’t even pass Calculus and you want to teach the smartest girl in our school a lesson?” your heart melted with warmth at how highly he thought of you. “Oh, that’s rich.”

“You won’t tell my dad, right?” Eunhee was suddenly on the defensive. She’d probably be in big trouble if he found out how his precious daughter was behaving in school.

“Get out of my sight right now or I’ll tell the whole country,” Seonghwa threatened through gritted teeth. (Later on, he actually did tell her dad about the incident and Eunhee, along with her followers, were suspended from school for two weeks. Oh, and their rich parents cut off their money, which was pretty impressive an accomplishment). And so, the vicious girls scattered like roaches in daylight. Pulling you onto your feet, Seonghwa grabbed your hand and started walking towards his car which you somehow hadn’t noticed parked nearby. Getting inside, he started the engine immediately but his hands were clutching the steering wheel so hard you were feeling a bit scared. You had never seen your best friend so angry. Well, maybe the only other time that came close was when you were telling him about your past experiences with bullying...

“Are you mad at me?” you asked sheepishly.

“At you?” he chuckled harshly. “Why would I be mad at you? You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I don’t know...”

“Why didn’t you fight them back?” Seonghwa inquired.

“I tried, but I was reminded of middle school and just...froze. I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright, I’m not blaming you,” he replied calmly. “I was just wondering. Cause I know you’ve been going to self-defense classes. And I thought you were making progress. I mean, the last time I came to watch, you were pretty good.”

That was before the summer. Of course it was. Still, you were touched by the fact that he remembered. Despite acting like he didn’t care, you instinctively knew he did.

“I mean, I was,” you said. “But I panicked.”

Seonghwa let go of the wheel with one hand and placed it on your bare knee, rubbing calming circles around it. You two were alone so you were certain this was no longer the fake dating thing. This was just your best friend being there for you when you needed him the most.

“If anyone tries that shit again, just tell them you’re my girlfriend, alright? They have to be idiots to mess with you,” he spoke angrily.

“Fake girlfriend,” you reminded him sadly.

“That’s none of their business,” he replied, but didn’t correct you. Oh, how badly you wished to be his real girlfriend. To show him how much you cared for him.

“Why did you change so much over the summer?” you suddenly asked, while Seonghwa was driving you home.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Seonghwa responded harshly. “You don’t like my green hoodie and you also don’t like my leather jacket? There’s really no satisfying you, is there?”

“I didn’t mean your clothes,” you mumbled. “Just...your overall attitude towards me. Before the summer you used to let me squeeze your cheeks and sit in your lap and now you seem so...unapproachable. I’m just saying, we were closer when I was your best friend than we are now that I’m your fake girlfriend.”

Seonghwa stopped the car abruptly, making you blink in shock.

“I changed because I was sick of you treating me like a little boy and I wanted you to start seeing me as a man,” he admitted but without looking into your eyes.

“W-what are you saying?” you swallowed nervously.

“Nevermind.”

“No, you have to talk to me, Hwa!” you insisted desperately. “If you still consider me your best friend, be honest with me. Please.”

“This,” he gestured vaguely at you as he finally met your gaze. “This is exactly why I changed so much, Y/N. I don’t want to be your best friend anymore.”

His cruel words hurt you more than anything you’d ever experienced in your life. More than all the bullying, the slapping and getting pushed against a wall. Losing your best friend was your worst fear. But you had promised yourself to never be weak again. So the second he said that, you pulled the handle of the side door, attempting to get out of his car. Before you could do that, Seonghwa grabbed your hand, effectively keeping you in place.

“I want to be your boyfriend. For real this time,” he elaborated.

You stared at him in utter confusion.

“But...when I confessed, you acted like you didn’t care. Like I meant nothing to you.”

“Forget how I acted. I only offered the fake dating shit because I wanted to get closer to you again. Make up for the lost time during the summer. Do you honestly think I give a fuck about what Eunhee thinks or says about me? I just used that as an excuse. I’ve told her I’m not into her hundreds of times. And yes, maybe I have changed. Not because I don’t care about you. But because I do. You used to gush about Count Dracula and Darth Vader so much that I thought if I became the bad guy, you’d finally notice me. I wanted so terribly to impress you and make you stop seeing me as your adorable best friend that I got too lost in the feeling of holding power over you...Too lost to notice you liked me all along, didn’t you?”

“I did,” you whispered teary-eyed. “I do,” correcting yourself. “H-hwa, I’m so sorry to break it to you but-”

“If you reject me, I won’t be responsible for attempted murder,” Seonghwa interrupted you jokingly.

“I’m so sorry to break it to you,” you repeated with a sly smirk. “But no matter how hard you try to change, I will always see you as my adorable best friend. And though I have to admit I did stop teasing you temporarily, that was only because you suddenly started behaving like the dangerously sexy king of the high school. Can you blame me for feeling a little intimidated? I know I’ve said this before but I didn’t think me teasingly calling you Kermit would go this far. I never meant to hurt you, Hwa.”

“I know you didn’t, princess,” Seonghwa whispered, gently stroking your cheeks.

“And yes,” you smiled shyly, leaning into his touch.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, I want to be your real girlfriend. It would be a dream come true.”

“Yeah?” he chuckled, as if the very idea seemed amusing to him. “How badly do you want it?”

“So badly, I would do anything for you, sir,” you uttered the last word without thinking much, your brain somehow recalling a time when you two had discussed how you’d enjoy being called by a potential significant other. In retrospect, that wasn’t really a thing best friends generally talked about.

“Sir?” Seonghwa grinned, leaning his head against your forehead. “Keep that up and your real girlfriend status will be confirmed.”

“I want to kiss you so much,” you were on the verge of begging. Oh, screw it. “Please, please, let me kiss you.”

He didn’t respond, just connected your lips with his own softly, taking his time with you. It was pure magic. You had thought about kissing your best friend thousands of times. But nothing compared to the reality. Parting your lips further to let his tongue in, you physically couldn’t prevent yourself from moaning into his mouth, overwhelmed by how good it felt. How insanely intoxicating he tasted. How you were burning alive and it would be the sweetest death imaginable.

“Not if I kiss you first,” Seonghwa said once he broke the kiss apart. “Oh, wait, I just did.”

What the hell...had just happened? Sneaking a peak at the time, you were suddenly panicking by how late it was.

“Holy shit, my parents are going to kill me!” you exclaimed. “Can you please drive me home?”

“Sure thing, princess,” he laughed, increasingly amused by your flustered self. “That’s exactly what I was intending to do anyways. I’m not in the habit of keeping little girls past their bed time.”

“Shut up, I’m not a little girl!” you complained. “I’m just a few months younger than you. Asshole.”

“Hey! Is that any way to speak to your devoted boyfriend?” Seonghwa scolded you teasingly.

Oh, God. You loved the sound of that. Your best friend was now your boyfriend. It still felt unreal.

“I’m sorry, sir,” you mewled apologetically, already knowing how to make him weak for you with just one tiny word. “And thank you for taking me home.”

“Anytime,” Seonghwa smiled. “See you tomorrow, baby.”

You could get used to it. Reaching forward to open the door for you, he whispered in your ear:

“I’m taking you out on our first date. Doll yourself up for me, will you?”

You nodded, your heart beating too fast to actually manage a verbal response. After you got inside and suffered a brief interrogation from your parents (using the library+extra assignments excuse), you hurried up the stairs, took a quick shower and then went to bed. No sooner had you closed your eyes than your phone buzzed with notifications.

Kermit the Frog: You still up?

Kermit the Frog: For fear of sounding lame, I moss you already

Kermit the Frog: *Miss...damn autocorrect

You chuckled upon seeing his messages. Whatever demon possessed you to still keep that nickname in your chat, you knew you had to change it immediately. If he saw it on your first date tomorrow, you would never hear the end of it.

You: I’m awake, yes

You: And I moss you too 😉

You purposefully misspelled the word to tease him. After all, it was only in order.

Boyfie 🐸: That obnoxious Kermit nickname better be gone by tomorrow

He texted as if he’d read your mind and you gasped in surprise.

Boyfie 🐸: Or we’re having our first couple fight!!

You: How did you know?!?

Boyfie 🐸: Not my fault you keep your phone unlocked sometimes

Boyfie 🐸: I’m not kidding, change it right now 😡

You: Changed it already

You texted him back quickly, sending him a screenshot.

You: Can I at least keep the frog emoji? 🥺

Boyfie 🐸: NO!!! REMOVE IT OR WE BREAK UP 😡😡😡

You: Damnit, Hwa, your angery Aries is showing...okay, fineee

You sent another screenshot of the now changed emoji.

You: Happy now?

Boyfie ❤️🖤💙: Much better, princess 🤗🤗🤗

Boyfie ❤️🖤💙: Now go to sleep, we have early classes tomorrow

You: Wow, so bossy. Okay, sir, I’m going

Boyfie ❤️🖤💙: Good night, my baby 😘

You: Staaahp, ohmygosh. And good night, Hwa 🥺

The next morning you ran outside faster than The Flash as soon as you heard the oh-so-familiar honks. When you saw Seonghwa waiting there to pick you up, your heart did a backflip as you excitedly took the passenger seat.

“Good morning, boyfriend,” you greeted him and kissed his cheek. “This still feels so strange.”

“Well, you better get used to it, doll. Wow, you really cleaned up nicely today,” he complimented your pastel pink dress. “Not that you usually don’t! You’re always gorgeous, I just meant that you’re especially gorgeous and...nope, that also sounds wrong. Okay, I shut up now.”

“Relax,” you giggled. “It’s fine. I appreciate the effort. You don’t look so bad yourself. Oh, who am I kidding? You’re practically sex on legs 24/7. I think it’s time for me to shut up now.”

“You’re so cute when you get flustered. Anyone ever tell you that?”

“Just you,” you admitted.

Once you walked into the school, it was like everyone noticed the subtle change in your dynamic. Because Seonghwa did something he never did before. He carried your bag and gave you his leather jacket! And Hwa’s friends were immediately onto you like bees to honey.

“I mean, I knew you guys were dating,” Seonghwa’s friend Yunho observed. “But I never saw the chemistry before, to be honest. Until now. I mean, come on, Y/N was like a loyal puppy, always following Hwa around.”

“Hey, don’t give him any ideas!” you joked.

“Too late. Already ordered the collar,” Seonghwa winked.

“Kinky. Can’t tell if I’m into it or want to cut off my ears,” Yunho grinned. “Probably both.”

“Nice chat, but we gotta head to class, Yu,” Seonghwa said because his friend was in a different class.

“See you for lunch?” Yunho suggested.

“Can’t. Already made plans with this little girl,” Hwa tilted his head towards you.

“Whoo, enjoy, then!”

“It’s not what it sounds like!” you groaned, feeling uncharacteristically embarassed.

“Isn’t it?” Seonghwa smirked mysteriously and pulled you towards the room you had class in.

“Nothing involving collars and puppies, I assure you!” you yelled (perhaps a little too loudly), twisting your head, not wanting to give Yunho and the rest of Seonghwa’s friends the wrong idea.

When your classes for the day were over, Seonghwa led you towards his car once again. You were a bit nervous to make a good impression on your first date. Even though it was silly. Your best friend of four years had surely made a first impression a long time ago.

“Where are we going?” you asked to break the awkward silence.

“It’s a surprise, princess. Can you be patient for me?”

“I can,” you promised dutifully and placed your tiny hand on top of his. “Anything for you, sir.”

Seonghwa lost focus on the road for the briefest of moments in order to give you a warning look. One look and that was all you needed to keep you quiet and obedient. Eventually, you realized where he was taking you. Though you hadn’t been to his place for a couple of months now, you couldn’t forget how the drive to Seonghwa’s home looked.

“I dressed myself up and we’re just going to your place?” you hmphed in playful annoyance. “So much for our glamorous first date.”

“Don’t underestimate the power of my cooking skills. Shit, I sorta ruined the surprise, didn’t I?”

“Aww, you were planning to cook for me on our first date? Hwaaa, I’ve only had you as a boyfriend for less than 24 hours and you’re already pulling out the big guns! I don’t mean to push my luck but if you’re cooking now, I’m trembling to witness our one month anniversary.”

Seonghwa rolled his eyes.

“You’re very ambitious to think you can put up with me for an entire month.”

”Hwa, sweetie, I’ve put up with you for four years.”

“Not as your boyfriend, you haven’t.”

“We’ll talk again in 30 days,” you vowed enigmatically.

“Here we are,” Seonghwa announced once he parked in front of his home. “My parents are currently at work so you don’t need to worry about...well, anything, really.”

“What’s the supposed to mean?” for some reason his words made you even more worried.

“Nothing, I just meant you can...like, be yourself. There’s no one to impress.”

“There’s you,” you pointed out. “Don’t forget your parents already know me. And besides, you’re the only person I care about impressing.” 

“Not to stroke your ego, but you’ve already impressed me. After all, you’re the only one who’s had the audacity to compare me to a freaking muppet and survived.”

“Point taken,” you chuckled.

“Come on, let’s get inside,” Seonghwa suggested and the two of you entered his house. No matter how much you begged him to let you help with the cooking, he was insistent that he would do all the work. Said something about making up to you for the times you had to carry his bag or buy snacks to him and his friends. When you argued that you also had some making up to do for all the times you teased him a little too insensitively, he said that you agreeing to be his real girlfriend was enough to satisfy his wounded heart. Seeing that there was no point in arguing, you gave up and occupied yourself by mindlessly scrolling through social media. About an hour later, Seonghwa finally deemed his culinary masterpieces ready to be eaten. He allowed you to at least help set the table which you considered a small victory. The second you tried the first meal, you were so overwhelmed by the exquisite tastes that you spoke without thinking much.

“God, I wanna marry you.”

Seonghwa simply chuckled, amused by your unexpected reaction.

“Did I say that out loud?” you whispered, completely mortified, covering your mouth in embarassment.

“I’m afraid so.”

“Shit, I’m such a mess,” you mumbled.

“No, it’s fine. I take it as a compliment. Now, eat up before it gets cold. If my wicked plan works, you’ll have bought me a wedding ring by the time dessert arrives.”

“Truly wicked. I’m in danger,” you laughed and kept enjoying the various meals Seonghwa had prepared. 

Once the plates were empty, you felt so full and warm you couldn’t possibly move. And no, that wasn’t an exaggeration. Seonghwa had to physically carry you to the couch so that you two would re-watch Star Wars: Return of the Jedi together, warmly cuddled up under a blanket.

Suddenly, you were possessed by the urge to speak your mind and be as honest with him as possible. After hiding your true feelings for four years, now that you were finally given the chance to be yourself, you were feeling uncharacteristically brave.

“You know, even though I was messing around earlier, I had indeed daydreamed about marrying you back in our first year of high school. You were the first boy who ever treated me like I wasn’t the walking joke of the universe. The first who ever hung out with me not as a prank but because you actually saw me as a friend. When I started teasing you about your cute habits, I hope you know I never wished to hurt you. I just wanted to show you that I notice and appreciate every single detail about you. So, yeah, I really like you, Hwa. Have liked you for a long time.”

Seonghwa had paused the movie the second you started talking. And now that you were done sharing your thoughts, he seemed unable to say anything. The silence was a bit awkward so you interrupted it once again.

“I’m sorry, that was silly. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable so early in our re-”

This time, he interrupted you with a kiss, pulling you into his lap, just like the good old days. You smiled into his mouth, wrapping your arms around him.

“It wasn’t silly. I appreciate you saying all that,” Seonghwa reassured you. “And for the record, I know you meant well with all the teasing. In a sense, a part of me even suspected that you liked me back. But I was also feeling a bit insecure. I kept thinking that you could do so much better than go out with dorky Kermit guy who has an obsession with tidying up, you know? That you deserved someone else. But I couldn’t allow anyone else to be that someone. So, I changed myself.”

“Maybe you did change a little. But in my heart, you’re always going to be my Frog Prince Hwa.”

“I hate you so much,” he rolled his eyes.

“Naw, you don’t.”

“Fine. I hate that you’re right.”

Things between you and Seonghwa were going great. It had been three months since you two started dating for real. He was super attentive and caring towards you. However, you were a bit bummed out since not much changed compared to his behaviour as your best friend and as your boyfriend. Sure, you did start kissing each other and occasionally making out (which wasn’t exactly a best friend activity). But there was one thing that still had not happened. And the more time passed, the more anxious you felt to bring it up.

One evening, you had miraculously convinced your parents to let you have a sleepover at Seonghwa’s place. After insisting that nothing out of the ordinary was going on between you two and even if something unusual did happen (which you highly doubted but secretly hoped for), you were going to use protection (and no, you were certainly not referring to Seonghwa’s collection of action figures who carried weapons).

As you and your boyfriend were enjoying your snacks while watching TV from the comfort of his bed, you couldn’t help but finally raise the question that had been tormenting your mind for a while now.

“S-seonghwa...do you not find me attractive?”

“What the hell are you asking me that for? Would you be my girlfriend if I didn’t find you attractive?”

“Well, I don’t know. I’ve never dated anyone before so...I was just wondering if there’s a particular reason why we still haven’t...taken things to the next level?”

“The next level?” he chuckled. “Relationships aren’t video games. And to answer your question, the reason’s actually the exact opposite of your concerns. We haven’t done anything more than making out because I find you ridiculously attractive. And it’s taking every last inch of my self-restraint to not pressure you into something you’re not comfortable with. I just wanted to wait until you’re ready.”

“Ready? So you knew that I haven’t...with anyone...yet?” you purposefully left out some words because you were feeling incredibly shy discussing this with Seonghwa.

“Of course I knew, princess. You’re my best friend. And my girlfriend.”

“Well, that’s a relief, at least. That you’re not repulsed by my...inexperience.”

“Why would I be when we’re in the same boat?”

“We are?” you whispered in shock.

“Why do you look so surprised?” Seonghwa laughed. “I’ve had the biggest crush on you since forever. Did you honestly think I would just screw anyone else?”

“Well, it’s not like you didn’t have options,” you pointed out, referring to all the potential love interests swarming around him like bees. “Unlike me.”

“Are you regretful, little girl?” he inquired, running a lazy finger across your cheek. “Jealous?”

“No, I just...want to be the best for you, sir,” you confessed nervously.

“You’re already the best I could hope for,” Seonghwa responded and kissed you hungrily, burying his hands into your hair.

“Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” you curiously needed to know. “That you haven’t either...”

“It’s not something that comes up in everyday conversation?” he pointed out. “What was I supposed to say? Hi, bestie, let’s have lunch together. Oh and by the way, I’m a hopeless virgin pining over you?”

“You’re right,” you laughed. “It would have made things awkward.”

“Now, unless you have any other pressing issues, I suggest we go back to kissing.”

And without giving you the time to argue, Seonghwa devoured your lips rightaway, gently pushing you down so that your back hit the sheets. Then, he started slowly taking off your jeans. Anxiously trembling under his vigorous touch, you placed a hand against his chest. He immediately noticed and put a temporary halt to his ministrations.

“We don’t have to do this right now,” he comforted you with all the seriousness in his voice.

“No, I want to, I swear,” you nodded eagerly.

“Princess, you’re literally shaking,” Seonghwa remarked.

“What’s wrong with me?” you sighed.

“There’s nothing wrong with you. You’re perfect. Tell me to stop if you feel even the slightest hint of hesitation or discomfort and I will, I promise.”

“I know you would, Hwa. I trust you. But even if I’m a bit nervous, I want to do this with you. Please?”

“Well, I can’t deny you since you’re asking so nicely,” he grinned and continued where he left off. “Can I get rid of these?” Seonghwa inquired, carefully pushing your panties to the side.

“Yes, you can do anything to me.”

“Oh, sweetheart, you really shouldn’t have said that,” he chuckled darkly and tore your underwear savagely. You couldn’t even gather the energy to complain about the ruination of your new pair, you were far too turned on by Seonghwa’s aggressive nature to care. He didn’t waste any more time, grabbing your thighs to hold them in place, he began licking your pussy with his tongue and stimulating it with his long fingers. It didn’t take long for you to start squirming beneath his touch, helplessly moaning his name. He didn’t cease his merciless movements until you reached your orgasm. When your breathing finally eased, you gathered the energy to speak again:

“I thought you said you’ve never done this before? How were you so...so...”

“So good?” Seonghwa smirked confidently and bit his lower lip. “I mean...I’ve seen videos. Read some things here and there.”

“Honestly? I think you’re a god.”

“You’ll have to stop complimenting me so much or I’ll develop a god complex,” he joked. “What do you want to do next, baby?”

“I want to suck you off,” you mumbled.

“Who taught you such dirty language?”

“Hey! I read, too,” you pouted and assuredly made your way towards the carpet next to his bed.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Seonghwa asked.

“Aren’t I supposed to kneel in order to pleasure you, sir?”

“Princesses never kneel,” he instructed and got up from the bed, urging you to lie down with your head hanging from the very edge of the bed and make yourself comfortable. “Open up that pretty little mouth for me, will you?”

You did as he asked obediently and even went the extra mile to stick your tongue out. Unbuckling his belt and throwing it to the side, Seonghwa was quick to follow your wishes and let his cock spring free from his jeans. Your mouth went dry at the sight of his monstrous size. Seeing your worries if it will fit reflected in your eyes, he expressed his concern for you:

“Are you sure about this?”

“Please, please, I need you,” you whimpered without thinking, eager to have a taste. Without making you wait any longer, Seonghwa pushed the tip of his cock inside, gently letting your cheeks get used to the unfamiliar feeling. Slowly, he went deeper, allowing you to acquaint yourself with the stretch. When you kept blinking at him in anticipation, he realized you were ready for more and began moving faster, fucking into your mouth at a steady pace. As he neared his high, his motions became less controlled you were sucking more intently, impatient to swallow every last drop of him.

“Shit, I’m going to-” he attempted to break away, but you managed to wrap your hands at the back of his legs in order to keep his cock inside your mouth. 

Seconds later, he released his cum and you began drinking it thirstily. When you had made certain that no drop was wasted, you finally let go of his legs, allowing your boyfriend’s dick to dangle freely outside of your mouth.

“You’re fucking incredible,” Seonghwa praised you and placed a soft kiss on the top of your head. “My incredible girl.”

“I’m only yours, sir,” you mumbled, way too affected by him.

“You like this, don’t you?” he mocked you teasingly.

“Yes, sir, I want to belong to you,” you whimpered and turned around to pull him back into bed.

“Your wish is my command, princess,” Seonghwa smiled fondly and took a mysterious package out of the back pocket of his jeans. Soon enough, you realized what it was, as he started lining up the condom on his cock.

“Oooh, I brought one of those, as well!” you exclaimed in surprise.

“You came here on a mission, didn’t you? Wicked little thing,” he tsked in fake disapproval.

“It’s not my fault you’re walking around like an Adonis,” you defended yourself boldly.

“You’re one to speak. Freaking goddess,” Seonghwa complimented you and slowly began unbuttoning your shirt you had somehow forgotten you were still wearing. “Is this okay?” he asked softly, always making sure you were feeling safe.

“More than okay,” you consented. Left in nothing but your baby pink bra, you unintentionally shivered at the sudden cold air surrounding you. Soon after that, Seonghwa undid the clasps and you were now only wearing your birthday suit. Feeling a bit timid, you self-consciously covered your breasts and broke eye contact with your boyfriend.

“Hey, hey, look at me,” he pressed the palm of his hand against your cheek. “Do you want to stop?”

You weakly shook your head and somehow managed to gather the strength to look into his beautifully dark eyes once again.

“Then, let me see you, yeah?” Seonghwa nudged your hands away gently. “You’re so beautiful, baby.”

You blushed at his sudden praise and allowed him to have a look. But seconds later, you were getting a bit impatient.

“Please, Hwa, I want you so much.”

“Anything for my princess,” he chuckled and coaxed his tip at your entrance slowly. When you gave him a sign he could go deeper, his movements became bolder. “Fuck, you’re taking me so well.”

“M-more, sir, I swear I can do this,” you begged as you were beginning to unravel beneath him. As he fucked you faster into oblivion, you were no longer thinking straight and his name was the only word you were capable of uttering. Over and over again. Until you both came, blissfully lost in each other’s arms.

“Here, let me clean you up,” Seonghwa offered sweetly, picking you up with little effort and carrying you to the bathtub. 

When he started shampooing your hair, rubbing body lotion into your sensitive skin and covering your neck with soft kisses, you couldn’t stop your tears from falling, touched by his infinite tenderness and by the sheer intimacy of the gesture.

“Darling, are you crying?” he questioned you upon hearing your hiccups.

“N-no,” you lied but it was useless, because it was quite obvious you were, in fact, bawling your eyes out.

“Did I hurt you, my sweet princess?” Seonghwa asked in concern.

“How...how could you think that?” you whimpered. “You’ve been nothing but kind and caring towards me. It’s just that...this is the first time I’ve felt so...special, so worthy, so...”

“Loved?” he offered the word you had been seeking for but had been too scared to utter out loud.

“Y-yeah,” you confirmed shyly. “Is it too early to say this? I’m sorry if it is but...I love you, Seonghwa.”

He simply stared at you in disbelief for a couple of seconds. This time, you were once again the one to break the deafening silence.

“You don’t have to say it back. I just...I wanted you to know. It’s okay if you don’t feel the same way but-”

“I love you too, baby. Of course I do,” Seonghwa reassured you. “And I’m not just saying it, I don’t feel obliged to say it. As my best friend, you know me better than anyone else. And you know I don’t do things unless I want to. So, believe me when I say this.”

“Fuck,” you uttered and only started crying harder in his arms.

“Shhh, you’re safe with me, sweetheart. I would never harm you,” he comforted you and stroked your hair lovingly, putting all your worries and self-doubts at the very back of your head.

After you were all dried up from the bath and had put on your boyfriend’s shirt while he was still in the shower, you were feeling uncharacteristically confident. Confident enough to look for something you hadn’t seen for a while. You had been wondering if he had it hanging around somewhere in his wardrobe. And after a short period of rummaging you found your treasure. The green hoodie. The Kermit hoodie. You smiled mischievously as you changed into it. It still smelled like him, you beamed. Back when he was simply your best friend, the amount of times you had fantasized about him lending it to you should have been illegal. So now that you had been promoted to his girlfriend, you simply couldn’t let such an opportunity pass you by.

Once Seonghwa got out of the shower, water droplets running down the divine skin on his bare chest, you were too busy staring at him in all his beauty and glory to notice the angry look on his face.

“How did you even find this? It was hidden so well in my wardrobe,” he scowled.

“Don’t be mad,” you pouted adorably. “I look so cute in it, right?”

“Cuter than me, that’s for sure,” Seonghwa rolled his eyes and tickled your belly.

“That’s impossible, you make the cutest Kermit,” you giggled, enjoying how easy it was to get on his nerves.

“You’ll never let me live this down, will you?” he groaned.

“Never ever, my stunning Frog Prince,” you vowed and kissed him quickly, taking him by surprise. His eyes widened in shock and he seemed too flustered to continue scolding you.

“You’re in luck today. Nothing can ruin my good mood,” Seonghwa was determined.

“Great,” you grinned gleefully. “Cause from now on, I intend on making all your days filled with joy.”

“From now on?” he chuckled sarcastically. “Oh, princess, my days have been filled with nothing but joy ever since I met you.”

And indeed, both Seonghwa’s days and yours were nothing but pure happiness ever since you decided to make your relationship real. And despite his foolish statement that he no longer wanted to be your best friend, you had somehow managed to convince him that he was both your boyfriend and bestie and that was perfectly okay. As if in the blink of an eye, spring came which meant that the whole school was in nervous excitement about the upcoming prom. Generally, you weren’t the type to get overwhelmed about such a trivial topic. But now that you were dating Seonghwa, the most popular guy in the school, you couldn’t help but worry a little. What if he wanted to go with someone else? Someone equal in “status”? Your worries and insecurities further intensified when he started asking questions in a weird way.

“I need your help,” Seonghwa blurted out over lunch.

“Shoot.”

“Okay, so, I have this friend. And he really likes this girl and wants to ask her to prom. What do you think would make her happy?”

You blinked in surprise. You knew that when people pulled the “I’m just asking for a friend” card, they were most likely talking about themselves. Was he seriously thinking of inviting another girl to prom? You tensed a little but tried really hard to remain neutral in your answer and actually make an attempt to help your bestie.

“I mean, all girls are different,” you reasoned. “If you describe her to me, maybe I’ll be able to give a more appropriate suggestion.”

“She’s a bit like you. You know, kinda bookish and-”

“It’s alright, Seonghwa, you can say it. I’m a nerd.”

“Well, yes, but...”

“It’s not exactly a slur,” you chuckled coldly.

“I know, but that’s what your bullies in middle school called you. I didn’t mean to sound insensitive,” Hwa put his hand on top of yours in a gentle, comforting manner.

“It’s fine when if you say it,” you smiled. “I won’t get offended.”

“I was going to say my friend’s crush is intelligent like you but, oh well.”

“That does sound better, I admit,” you giggled.

“She’s also a bit shy and introverted so maybe she wouldn’t enjoy a public promposal. Crowds tend to make her nervous,” Seonghwa observed.

“Seems like you didn’t need my help after all,” you scoffed playfully.

“No, I do! I still haven’t come up with an actual way to propose. I mean, for my friend.”

“Right. Your friend. Well, he can’t go wrong with some poetry under her balcony. If she has one, that is.”

“I’m pretty sure she does.” Seonghwa smirked. “Alright, thanks.”

He jumped from his seat, not even having finished his lunch.

“Wait, where are you going?”

“I gotta prepare my friend’s promposal,” he shrugged and disappeared from your sight, leaving you a bit crest-fallen. If he was intending on asking you, he wouldn’t have turned to you for help, right? That would sorta ruin the element of surprise, wouldn’t it? And yet, you knew that Seonghwa wasn’t the type to care about people’s opinions and randomly ask a more popular girl out because of public demand. And he definitely wasn’t the kind of person to just date you for kicks and then ditch you at prom. Despite those very logical reasons, you couldn’t help but feel a little anxious.

A week later, you realized all your worries had been for nothing. It was a Sunday morning and you had just finished having breakfast with your family. You were leisurely reading on your bed when you heard some suspicious noises coming from your window. You looked up from your book and you could swear you saw tiny rocks hitting the glass! You jumped up angrily, half-expecting to find a bunch of neighbour kids pulling a prank. But you were surprised when you spotted your boyfriend standing under your balcony. Wearing his iconic green hoodie.

“What are you doing here?” you whispered, though a hopeful part of you already knew the answer.

“But, soft! what light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Juliet is the sun. Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon,” he recited diligently in a song-like manner.

You couldn’t help but chuckle at his overdramatic acting but it was the effort that touched you immensely.

“And none but fools do wear it; cast it off. It is my lady, O, it is my love! O, that she knew she were!” he continued sweetly.

You were so in love with this man it was insane.

“Two of the fairest stars in all the heaven, Having some business, do entreat her eyes To twinkle in their spheres till they return,” Seonghwa kept going.

You couldn’t resist the urge to leap off the balcony. It was just the second floor so what could possibly go wrong? Other than a scraped knee and a bit of a limp. God, you were such an idiot.

“Shit, are you okay?” Seonghwa asked in terror and wrapped his arms around you.

“The excruciating pain is worth it if I get to hug you like this,” you grinned, leaning against him for support.

“Why couldn’t you just walk down the stairs like a normal person?”

“And what’s romantic about that?” you joked. “Jumping off a balcony makes for a much better story.”

“You’re impossible.”

“Only for you, my sweet Frogmeo!” you teased and kissed his cheek.

“Wait, I wasn’t finished!” Seonghwa exclaimed excitedly, not bothering to act offended about your obsession with him and that Kermit hoodie. “There was something about cheeks, I swear.”

“See, how she leans her cheek upon her hand!” you helped him out dutifully.

“O, that I were a glove upon that hand, That I might touch that cheek!” he finished proudly and placed his palm against your cheek.

“Only you could possibly mix Romeo and Juliet with The Frog Prince and somehow make it work,” you praised him.

“Does that mean you’ll go to prom with me?” Seonghwa tilted his head to the side adorably.

“Of course I will, baby,” you responded happily.

“Thank God, ‘cause learning that monologue drained my soul and brain,” he whistled playfully.

“You know, you had me worried there for a second,” you confessed reluctantly, because you didn’t want to keep any secrets from your doting boyfriend.

“When?” Seonghwa asked in confusion.

“Lunchtime. A week ago. When you asked me for advice. I thought that...”

“That I would ask someone else?” he correctly guessed your suspicions. And you nodded. “Have I ever given you a reason to doubt me?”

“No, you’re perfect. In fact, too perfect. It makes me feel like I don’t deserve you.”

Seonghwa smiled sadly and kissed the top of your head. But he wasn’t angry with you. Just wanted to erase those silly thoughts from your mind.

“You deserve so much more, princess. But I’ll try my best to give you all I can.”

“As will I,” you promised and mischievously pulled the drawstrings on his hoodie, making his face squished adorably.

“If this is the best you’re capable of, I dread to see your worst,” he shook his head in amusement.

“Prince Frogmeo and the Nerdy Princess,” you sighed wistfully. “That would make a hell of a fairy tale, wouldn’t it?”

“How about Kermit the Frog whoops the Princess’s ass for being a brat?” Seonghwa threatened jokingly.

“You know what? I wouldn’t say no to that,” you giggled and started running away from him. “If you catch me first!”

Prom night arrived and despite all the preparations and excitements around it, it was nothing special in itself. What made it special, however, were the moments you spent with Seonghwa. Just dancing and talking seemed to be enough to make your heart leap with joy. And the smile never left your face the entire night.

“School’s really ending, huh?” you spoke aloud without thinking, while you were swaying slightly to the music in your boyfriend’s arms.

“This isn’t the end of us. We’ll go to college, we’ll grow up. The best is yet to come, darling.”

“You know what I meant,” you replied, a hint of sadness tinging your tone. “In college, I’ll study Literature, you’ll study Music. We’ll no longer be able to sit next to each other in class or exchange notes or hold hands under the desk.”

“We’ll do all sorts of other things,” Seonghwa responded cheerfully, trying to think positive. “We’ll have study dates in college, we’ll visit new restaurants and make more memories together. Just because high school is over, doesn’t mean we are. I’m not giving up on my best friend ever.”

“Your girlfriend,” you corrected him playfully.

“My best friend,” he repeated. “You were right. Being in love with each other doesn’t nullify our friendship. Both are equally important to me. You are the most important to me.”

“God, Hwa, how can you say such things so easily?”

“Is your heart fluttering?” your boyfriend and best friend teased you, swirling you around while dancing. You were met with his beautiful dark gaze again as he murmured: “Hi, princess.”

“H-hi, S-seonghwa,” you chuckled in response.

And you were finally home.

The End

[darkmulti]

My Little Dolly

BTS

Parings: Sadist!Taehyung x brat!female reader

Genre: Smut, angst

Word Count: 4K

CONTAINS DARK THEMES!

PLEASE READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!

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Summary: Taehyung is known as the ‘new, weird kid’ that hangs out in the basement bathroom. He is also the main target for this one girl. As he was cleaning the blood off his face, he finds a doll on the bathroom floor, and keeps it, only to figure out that there is much more to this doll.

~Hope you enjoy~

———

A/N note: Some people are triggered by warnings, therefore I will put the warnings after the under cut.

Warnings: Non consensual sex, humiliation, degradation, choking, blowjob, pet play, forced ddlg relationship, dacryphilia, physical abuse, breeding kink, ‘unprotected sex’ (wrap it up!), overstimulation, bondage, fear kink, anal, blood, masochism, cum eating, cum play, fingering, fisting

Shit. I really be exposing all my kinks in here.. whoops

——————————————————————————

It’s all fun and games until someone gets hurt.

Physically, mentally and emotionally. She brushed it off because it was ‘funny’ to others. Of course, she had no idea how it felt like, being humiliated over and over.

You can speak up for yourself, but then be known as the triggered outsider. But when you don’t speak up, they’ll step all over you, as if you’re not human. This is how Kim Taehyung felt. He often got bullied into doing other people’s homework or being the punching bag for insecure students. All because of one bitch who goes by the name, Y/N.

The ‘Princess’ of the school, who never gets in trouble for her insensitive decisions. She made Taehyung’s life a living hell. Why? You may ask. Taehyung's family recently moved in next door. The family that used to live there before them, was Y/N’s now ex boyfriend. They still would’ve been a couple, if he was still next door. Unfortunately he had to move away.

Listen, I know what you’re thinking. This is not Taehyung’s fault at all. Not even by the slightest. This is why Taehyung was confused as well. He tried to apologize (even though he didn’t do anything) but her being an egocentric person, she didn’t take his words to mind.

Now this whole backstory leads up to the current situation. The young man was preparing for his next class until the narcissistic girl showed up beside him. To his ‘luck’ they were also locker neighbors. Taehyung kept his head low and pretended to not notice her, until she spoke. “Babe, did you do my homework?” The young male scoffs, “why should I do your homework?”

“Clearly you don’t know how things go around here. But it’s okay since you’re new. Let me explain again. My father owns the school, and my boyfriend is the captain of the football team. Sweetie put two and two together.” She looks in her locker mirror and applies her lip gloss. “I’m not doing your homework. Do it yourself.”

Taehyung quickly packed his books, hoping to get out of there. “Not so fast lover boy.” Y/N pulls Taehyung onto her and kisses him. She palms the boy then pulls away. “What’s wrong with you, you sick fuck!” Y/N pushes Taehyung back and starts to aggressively wipe her lips. Her eyes scan the hallway and she sees her boyfriend around the corner. “Daddy!” She yells, unembarrassed. The girl runs into her boyfriend's arms and starts to cry on his shoulder. “Daddy! He forcefully kissed me!”

Tae grabs his books and sprints to the boys washroom in the basement. Y/N’s boyfriend followed close behind, with her still in his embrace. Taehyung wasn’t fast enough and the rest of the football team had already pulled him back before he could enter a stall. “Where are you running, TaeTae?”

The captain lets go of Y/N and punches Taehyung’s jaw. He shoves him to the ground and gets on top of him, repeatedly punching him. “WHY WERE YOU ON MY GIRL, TAEHYUNG?!” He grabs Taehyung’s collar and shakes him. “Okay daddy, that’s enough.” Y/N was startled by her boyfriend's sudden behaviour. She grabs his arm and pulls for him to let go. “Come on daddy, he’s not worth your time.” He complies and gets up. “I’m warning you Taehyung. If you look at her, I’ll snap your neck.” He kicks the man’s hip one more time before throwing his girlfriend over his shoulder and spanking her ass.

The gang leaves the male, bleeding on the floor. Taehyung rolls over to his side and chuckles at the blood. He had lost so much blood within these past few days, it was concerning. He weakly gets up and drags himself to the sink to clean up. He looks into the mirror and notices a light brown cloth laying on one of the stalls floor. He turns around and walks closer. With his left foot he kicks it over. “What the fuck?”

It was a stuffed doll with a loose button eye as well as some rips scattered all over. Taehyung picks the doll up and inspects it. It had a heart on its tummy and a snake coming up its right leg. Taehyung smiles at the doll, slightly being turned on by it. “Look at this little doll.” The doll was mesmerizing. Taehyung was completely compelled. He takes the doll and puts it in his backpack.

Meanwhile, upstairs, in class, Y/N sat on her boyfriend's lap while making out with him. Her short skirt allowed the man to spank her ass in the make out, but it only made her grind harder on him. “Daddy” she moans in his ear. “Please take me.”

“Y/N! Pay attention young lady! We’re in school!” Y/N groans and gets off her boyfriend's lap. “Sorry! It’s not my problem that you haven’t gotten laid in the last ten years of your life.” She rudely barks at her teacher. “Look, Y/N. You’re daddy might own the school, but it doesn’t mean you rule the world.”

“Be careful with that mouth. I have the power to get your ass fired within the next week.” She sticks her tongues and crosses her arms. “Y/N! OUT OF MY CLASS.” The teacher points a whiteboard marker at her and kicks her out. “Jeez I’m going.” She storms out but then peeps her head in one more time to say, “Daddy, text me!”

The teacher slams the door and she waits in the hallway. She starts walking back to her locker, only to be met with Taehyung once again. “Wow, look who’s back. Now you know not to mess with me.” Taehyung didn’t acknowledge the girl, instead kept a sly grin. “Hello! I’m talking to you.” The girl taps on his shoulder, and Taehyung looks at her. “Don’t touch me you filthy doll.”

“Filthy?” She asked, shocked.

“Oh sorry, I mean slutty.” Taehyung casually puts his books back into his locker, then puts the empty backpack on. The girl furrowed her eyebrows and huffs, “I’m not slutty!”

“Oh really?” Cautiously, he took out his phone and hit record. He then slid the phone back into his pocket and had the camera angled where you can see her signature skirt. “You really don’t think that you’re a slut?”

“Nuh uh!”

Taehyung quickly slammed her against the locker and picked her up. He tore her legs apart and started grinding his bulge on her bare cunt. Y/N moans and throws her head back. She placed her hands on his shoulders and started grinding even harder, loving the feeling. “See dolly..” he drops her back to her feet and moves away, “you were ready to take my cock.” He moves closer to her again and slides his fingers up her skirt. “You’re such a bad girl. Do you ever wear panties to school?” He slips four fingers into her, making her gasp and cover her mouth. “P-please!” Taehyung wrapped one arm around her waist and brought her closer to him. His fingers went a little faster into her while whispering, “where you running doll? I know you’re enjoying this. Don’t hide from me.”

“S-stop! This is wrong!” She stutters, but found herself loving every second. “Stop? You want me to stop?” Taehyung curls his fingers in her causing her to cry. “Fuck! I’m gonna cum!” The male chuckles and lets his thumb rub her clit. “Cum for me dolly.”

Y/N gasps as she releases on his fingers. She wraps her arms around Taehyung's neck and moans into his shoulder. He takes his finger out and strikes her to the floor. “Dirty, slutty doll. Cumming for another man? Where’s your loyalty?” He growled at her.

She stayed on the ground and cried. He was right. She betrayed her boyfriend just like that. “Stay away from me! You rapist!”

“I’m a rapist now? You never told me to stop..” Taehyung walks closer to the girl, causing her to scoot back. “You will regret what you did today dolly..” he whips out his phone and shows her the video. “Do you want me to show this to both of your daddies?” She shakes her side to side and puts her hands together. “Please, don’t!” The loverboy smiles at the sight. “Good doll.” Taehyung walks toward the girl and deliberately steps on her finger.

She quietly squeals and brings her fingers to her chest, while her other hand tries to massage it. Taehyung turns back and looks at her, “see you at home, dolly”

The man walks back to his house, which wasn’t too far from the school. He greeted his mother with a kiss on the cheek and immediately went upstairs, to his room. He places his bag on the chair and takes the doll out of the bag. “What has this little doll done with me?” Though he was confused, this doll made him feel powerful. He absolutely loved the feeling. He throws the doll onto his bed and heads to his bathroom to take a shower.

Y/N weeps her way home and doesn’t get greeted by anyone. Her parents were always busy, which is why they spoiled her. She might get a lot of attention at school, but all she truly wished for was for her parents to spoil her with love and attention. She runs up to her room and plops onto her bed, face first. She cries her little heart out and turns her head towards the window. Unexpectedly she sees Taehyung with a towel wrapped around his waist and his hair dripping wet.

She quickly sits up and wipes away her tears. Her eyes pick up the doll laying on his bed. The doll was giving off this… energy. It was unexplainable. She had this feeling that she needed that doll. Without noticing, she starts staring at it. Even Taehyung had noticed and opened his window, “dolly, it’s rude to stare at someone when they’re getting dressed.” Y/N doesn’t notice Taehyung. The doll's energy was so fascinating, she couldn’t keep her eyes off of it.

At this point Taehyung followed her eyes, and landed right on the doll. He reaches for the doll and picks it up by the neck. He looks back at Y/N to see if this was what she was looking at. But when he did, he witnessed her holding onto her throat and banging on the window. His eyebrow raised and he decided to put his theory to the test. He pinned the doll against the window and slapped it. He looks over at her again and sure enough she was historically crying. He stops and puts the doll down.

He closes his curtains and sits down at his desk. His hands pull open a drawer full of miscellaneous items. He digs around and finally finds a ball of yarn. He starts cutting them up and adding it to the dolls head, giving her hair. The entire night he put together a doll that reminded him of Y/N.

The girl hid under her covers, shaking from fear. She couldn’t sleep the whole night. Something inside her was tearing her heart. Y/N manages to catch three hours of sleep but soon wakes up. She wore a short, pink dress and light makeup. The princess didn’t want anyone to suspect that something was going on. She arrives at school and avoids Kim Taehyung at all cost. Soon the coast was clear and she quickly went to her locker, opening it up as fast as she could. But not fast enough.

Taehyung pulls her back by her backpack and shoves her to the floor. “P..please” she said under her breath. Her eyes examine his outfit. He was wearing all black, which was appealing for her doll eyes. Taehyung stands over her, marking his dominance. “Come with me dolly.” She frantically shakes her head no one backs away from him even more. “Now dolly, you don’t want me to release that video… and” Taehyung pulls the doll out and pulls its hair. Y/N hisses as she feels her hair being pulled too. “You don’t want me to pull off this hair now, do you?”

“N-n-no.”

“Then you shall follow my orders like a good doll.”

Her head lowers, but she does nod in agreement. She was about to get up, but Tae kicked her back to the floor. “From now on, you will crawl. No more walking, kitten.” She shivers and follows Taehyung to the basement on all fours. He leads her to the bathroom and tells her, “pick a stall.” She crawls into the first one and waits for him. “W-what’re you going to d-do to me?”

“I’m gonna make you feel good.” He enters into the stall and locks the door. “Strip for me doll.” Taehyung stares deep into her vulnerable eyes, but she suddenly screams out, “NO!”

“Very well then. Let me see if this works.” The doll makes another appearance but this time Taehyung started ripping the clothes off the doll. Y/N’s dress rips in half frightening her even more. “T-Taehyung, s-stop!” She sobs out. “You should’ve listened to me before.” He slaps the doll, and shoved his finger into a little rip he made in the doll's crotch. The girl screams, terrified and oblivious to what’s going on. “Throw that doll away! It’s hurting me! Please!” Taehyung takes his finger out and throws the doll to the ground. “I’m sure it’s hurting you dolly.” His hand yanks her up, off the floor and he pushes her cheeks against the dirty wall.

Without warning, he shoves his fat, long, veiny, cock into her dry, tight asshole, causing her to wail. Taehyung holds her throat and demands her to shut up. He takes her arms and locks them behind her back and starts pounding inside of her. He spits on his cock to add more lub because it took a lot of energy to move. He spreads her ass cheeks wide and shoved his whole cock into her. “Good dolly. Cry for me. Or beg me to stop.” He grunts and adds more pressure on her neck. “D-daddy, p..please stop! You’re hurting dolly!” Tears stream down her face, followed by broken sobs. “Dolly, dolly, dolly, am I your daddy now?” He asked. “Yes.. you’re my daddy.”

Taehyung takes his cock out and spanks her ass, “knees dolly.” She falls onto her knees and instantly gets a dick shoved down her throat. Taehyung face fucked the girl, who was screaming and begging for mercy around his cock. He takes his cock out, and right away the girl coughs up all the spit. “Clearly you don’t know my rules. Let me explain since you’re new.” Taehyung mocks the girl then grabs her hair and jawline, forcing her to look up. “WHEN I GIVE YOU SOMETHING, YOU TAKE IT LIKE A GOOD..” He slaps the girl then continues, “FUCKING DOLL!”

Y/N sobs louder and louder, hoping for someone to find her. The man gets out of the bathroom stall and uses her hair as a leash. He drags her to his car and drives back to his house. His parents were working, so they had the house to themselves. Tae leads her to his bedroom and tells her to lay on the bed. “N..no. I’m not gon-” Taehyung rolls his eyes and forces her onto the bed. He got on top of her and placed his knees on her arms so she couldn’t move. He cuffs her hands to the bed frame, then takes two of his belts, ties them to the bed legs, then ties them around her legs to keep them open. The girl shakes more aggressively and squirms around more. “TAEHYUNG STOP IT!” She yells out, finally finding her voice. Taehyung heads over to his closet and takes out a tie. He walks back to her and ties it around her mouth.

“No talking, no moaning, no yelling, no touching, no crying and no moving. You are now under my control. I tell you what to do and you do it. You’re nothing but a slutty doll, and I have to train you the right way.” He gives her a list of rules and a slap on her face. He strips himself then hovers over her. He stood on his knees with his cock standing proud. The boy holds her legs up to his waist and rams into her cunt. Y/N screams into the tie and pulls on the handcuff. “PLEASE YOU CAN’T DO THIS TO ME! I’M GONNA GET PREGNANT!” She pulls harder on the cuffs and tries to kick Taehyung off her by putting her feet on his chest and pushing. “THAT’S IT! I FUCKING HAD IT WITH YOU, FUCKING BRAT!” Taehyung flips her over and fists her cunt. “STOP IT! STOP IT! I’LL BE A GOOD DOLL, BUT PLEASE STOP, IT HURTS SO BAD!” She screams and cries at the agonizing pain. Taehyung stuffs her face into a pillow and slams his cock into her, fucking all the pain and anger that welled up in him, because of her. “Scream and cry all you want doll, you’ll never understand the pain you put me through.” His balls slapped against her pussy, creating a loud clap.

His cock reached her stomach, causing her to cry with every thrust he gave her. Taehyung spanked her ass over and over, wanting to hear her cry louder. He plays with her burning clit, while keeping his thrust short, but hard. “Am I hurting you doll?”

“YES! Please stop!” She desperately shouted.

“Broke my rule.” Taehyung pushes her face deeper into the pillow and slaps her ass. “When I give you something, you take it like a good doll!” He gives her another rough slap. “Fuck! You’re gonna have my baby! I’m gonna fuck my baby in you doll! We’re gonna get married, you’re gonna have my kids, and we’ll be this happy family.”

“NOO! I’M TOO YOUNG, PLEASE!”

“NO IS NOT AN ANSWER!”

Taehyung strikes her back then ass.

“AHH! PLEASE STOP HITTING ME!” She bawls. Her pussy uncontrollably clenches and throbs around his cock, indicating that she was about to cum. Taehyung’s cock pulses in her and he gives her one more full, hard thrust, followed by a spank, causing both of them to cum. She violently trembled underneath him, crying harder into the pillow.

“Y-you.. c-cummed in m-me.” She slowly lifts her face from the pillow and Taehyung could see the tears falling down onto it. “You deserve it, doll face. Don’t bully people fucking whore.”

“YOU PROBABLY GOT ME PREGNANT AND THIS IS WHAT YOU’RE LECTURING ME ABOUT?!” She tugs on the handcuffs and cries harder. “Stop fucking around Y/N, I see you taking birth control everyday.” Y/N’s eyes widen. Shit! He knew!

“Those aren’t birth control pills.”

“Then what are they dolly?”

“They’re… um..” She couldn’t answer and Taehyung automatically knew she was trying to guilt trip him. “Lying to daddy already?!” He takes the handcuffs off and shoves her to the nearest wall. Y/N couldn’t feel her legs so she fell, until the man came behind her, wrapped his veiny arm around her throat, then pushed his cock back in.

“You’re not getting away with this doll.”

He tightly holds her neck, restricting her to breathe properly. His other hand squeezes her stomach, so that she can feel the enormous cock ruining her insides. All she could do was cry. She couldn’t call for help because no one was here. She couldn’t tell him to stop, or he’ll get more irritated. So she stood there, letting him use her like a ragdoll.

Taehyung took her hands behind her back and kept jolting his hips upwards, directly hitting her gspot. “Daddy- I’m close!” She whispers.

“Hold on dolly, I’m close to.” He grunts one more time before cumming into her pussy again. Cum leaks down her thigh, to the floor, creating a little puddle. Taehyung pulls out and scopes up the cum in his hand. “Get on all fours.” Y/N slowly gets down and looks up at her daddy. Her daddy then squats down and says, “Here’s your milk kitten.” He brings his hand up to her face and she dips her tongue in the cum, drinking it like a cat.

“Good doll.” He takes the remaining cum and spills some in her hair, and face. “Look at you, covered in daddy’s cum.”

Taehyung picks her up and lays her in his bed. He lays right next to her and pulls her onto his chest. The two fall asleep instantly, and wake up the next morning.

“T-Taehyung” the girl sits up and pokes the man. “We’re gonna be late for school.”

“Shhh, we’ll take our time.” Lover boy throws his arm over her and pulls her back into his embrace. Taehyung grabs his cock and pushes it into her, while half asleep. The girl whimpers and tries her best to get away. “Taehyung- we have to go to school!”

“How many times do I-” Taehyung slaps the girl and thrust into her again, this time going fast and rough into her. He shoves two fingers along with his cock into her pussy, trying to get her to shut up. “WHEN I FUCKING SAY SOMETHING, I DON’T SAY IT FOR FUN!” The girl cums three times after Tae hit her g spot sixteen consecutive times.

She lays back, hopeless and tired. His cock kept going and she did nothing about it until he finally came in her. “I made you cum 5 times this morning. Don’t fucking test me, dolly.”

She nods her head up and down, then wipes away her tears. “I-I’m s-so sorry” she chokes out.

Taehyung gets up and grabs an oversized shirt. “Here’s your outfit” he whips it at her, afterwards locking himself in the bathroom. They both get ready, but the only problem was, half of Y/N’s ass was showing. Taehyung reassured her at home, but once they pulled into the school’s parking lot, Taehyung put a collar and leash on her. He forced her to crawl on the ground around school, and unexpectedly slammed a buttplug tail into her. Everyone had mixed reactions. Most of them were shocked, but some were laughing and taking pictures.

Taehyung wasn’t helping the girl out either. In class he made her suck him off, then rub the cum all over her face and hair. At lunch, Taehyung took her to the basement and fucked the light out of her. It was finally last period, she was sitting beside her Daddy’s feet, sucking on his finger.

“Come on dolly. Come and ride daddy for the last period.” Taehyung lifted the girl up onto his lap. He let her unbuckle his pants and take his cock out. “Sit on it dolly, ride me.” She sat on his fat tip, and covered her mouth from. “Daddyyy~ it feels good!” Her hips roll forward and her eyes roll back. Taehyung tangles his fingers in her hair, pushing her face down to his. He gives her a passionate and lustful kiss, while everyone in the room paused to watch. She started bouncing on his cock, just wanting to cum. “Daddy! Make dolly cum!” She quietly moans. The man held her smaller body and thrusted up harder and faster. “Open your mouth.” The girl opens her mouth, knowing what was coming. She loved Taehyung's saliva. It tasted amazing and was such a turn on for her little cunt. “Daddy.. I-I ahh! I-I’m going to cum again.” Taehyung slaps her ass and she releases just from that. “Daddy! I’m orgasming!” She closed her eyes and clenched around Taehyung tightly as possible, releasing all the extra fluids out of her body. A wave pushes through her body, releasing all the clenched muscle, making her cry from pleasure. “I-it feels amazing, daddy!” She pants.

Taehyung throws his head back and cums deep inside her. He pulls her onto his check and rubs her back. “Good dolly. Fucking amazing!”

The class pretends to not notice them, and focuses on the teacher, who’s gotten over it too. Taehyung kisses her dry lips, making them moist again. “My little dolly.”

——————————————————————————

Edited and still fucking horrible. Sorry guys😔✌️

[setsureadsshit]

Lost At Sea: A List of WIP’s I am finally letting go of [ Part 5 ]

[ Part 1 ] [ Post 2 ] [ Post 3 ] [ Post 4 ]

*see posts 1-4*

I’ve had this sitting in my drafts for.....probably half a year now, it was a project I took up at the start of the Covid and then I, like the rest of the world, sort of lost interest in everything for a little while. And then I threw myself into projects I could do around the house and hanging out with my housemates and slowly mourning our lost year. So, here’s THE LIST. And uh. Yeah.

The Soldier In The House Of Birds by Bonnie131313

Summary: A young acolyte finds himself paired with a young soldier

Last Update: 2018

Fandom & Main Pairing: Person Of Interest ; Rinch

Personal Notes: I really wanted to like this fic, I really wanted to but just...something about the style of the writing just doesn’t grab me. But like, I KNOW it’s really good, I can tell it’s well thought out even if it’s not finished but I just can’t...get into it and I’m letting it go.

Sucker For The Classics by nisolex

Summary: Scott was such a bad friend. Stiles only agreed to go on this stupid "pack bonding" trip so he and Scott could spend some time togehter. And what does Scott do? He invites Allison: and he gives her Stiles' seat in the car. Now Stiles is stuck in the Camaro for a 6 hour car ride with Derek Hale. This is gonna be a long week.

**With the show coming to an end, I wanted to write a Sterek fic to take us back to the beginning. This is an ode to the classic Teen Wolf fanfics. It will feature tropes as old as time, and is set sometime around season 3. If nothing else, get ready for some nostalgia, angst, and eventual sexy times.

Last Update: 2018

Fandom & Main Pairing: Teen Wolf ; Sterek

Personal Notes: Ah man, this fic is so good and tbh it leaves off at a moderately satisfying spot so still worth a read.

Where the lost get found by Ninjanervana

Summary:  The Nogitsune took a lot of things from Stiles: Allison, his peace of mind, his consent, his sanity, even his Spark. Maybe it’s time for Stiles to start taking things back.

Last Update: 2019

Fandom & Main Pairing: Teen Wolf ; Sterek

Personal Notes: I’d hold onto this - if all 7 chapters hadn’t all been posted at the same time and there hasn’t been so much as a peep since. Which is sad because it’s REALLY good but I have a harder time holding onto things that don’t have an update track record I can fall back on you know?

Can’t Hide From The Moonlight by Flarrow

Summary: The semi-unintended sequel to Might As Well Be the Sun, by reader request. One take, a potential telling of part of their married life together.

Last Update: 2016

Fandom & Main Pairing: The Flash ; Flarrow

Personal Notes: I just recently reblogged the first part of this series because I didn’t realize I hadn’t until I checked this, lol. The first one is really good, you should read it! A bummer this second part has kind fallen to the wayside but you know how it goes.

carpe diem by imadoki

Summary: The trials and tribulations that one Tsukishima Kei faces in the events leading up to spring graduation.(aka they're all third years and Tsukishima just wants to give Hinata his second gakuran button but there's a whole bunch of feelings in the way)

Last Update: 2015

Fandom & Main Pairing: Haikyuu!! ; Tsukihina

Personal Notes: I really love this idiot pairing. There...aren’t really any Hinata pairings I don’t like, he’s just so shippable, lmao. It’s a bummer that this one didn’t really get off the ground, it’s always so interesting seeing this pairing from Tsuki’s side of things.

Condo In The Woods by Strangeredlantern

Summary:  Scott gets here in four weeks, hopefully bringing some supernatural answers with him. That leaves Stiles four weeks to figure out Isaac. Why he’s here in Bear Valley, why he’s a werewolf, and why his eyes changed from blue to gold and back again not fifteen hours ago over Camden Lahey’s dog tags.

Last Update: 2014

Fandom & Main Pairing: Teen Wolf ; Stisaac

Personal Notes: I HAVE HELD ONTO THIS FIC. FOR SO FUCKING LONG. IF YOU CAN’T TELL. I REALLY FUCKING LOVE IT, I HAVE HOPED AND HOPED AND HOPED FOR SO LONG AND I AM SO GUTTED TO FINALLY BE GIVING UP ON IT. I LOVED IT. I STILL LOVE IT. STRANGEREDLANTERN, IF YOU’RE OUT THERE, IF YOU SEE THIS, KNOW THAT THERE IS ONE PERSON ON THIS EARTH WHO LOVED YOUR STORY. WHO STILL LOVES YOUR STORY. WHO HOPES YOU’RE HAVING A GOOD LIFE AND STILL WRITING SOMEWHERE.

Dead To Rights by askanasshole

Summary: Stiles is picky when he chooses his jobs. Can't hurt anyone, can't end the world, can't end with him a different species or trapped in an alternate dimension. Can't be face to face. Simple. Easy. Necessary. 

Of course his entire life goes to shit when he's forced into a face to face with a werewolf pack stupid enough to get their Second's heart stolen by a witch. Now if their Alpha would stop being so stupidly hot and he could get this job over with, that'd be great.

Last Update: 2015

Fandom & Main Pairing: Teen Wolf ; Sterek

Personal Notes: I really enjoyed this, it was such a wildly different take on things, I was really interested to see where it was gonna go. Sad to be finally throwing in the towel on it.

Destiny Knows Best by TaliskerMortem

Summary: It was supposed to be just an ordinary one-night stand. A quick tumble in the sheets and then good-bye. Derek’s wolf however, had other plans.

OR: The one in which Derek and Stiles do the do and a certain part of Derek’s wolfish anatomy decides they should be bonded for life.

Last Update: 2018

Fandom & Main Pairing: Teen Wolf ; Sterek

Personal Notes: Again, the start was pretty promising and it kinda leaves off in a satisfactory way even unfinished but I’m not interested in it enough to keep holding on it.

Dirty Dealing by lookslikenico, winglesswarrior

Summary:  Stiles had a plan for his final summer before college. He was going to intern at the Sheriff's station, get ahead on the plans for the rest of his life. Unfortunately, his dad had some hazy idea of him having 'one last summer' as a lazy teenager. Now, he's stuck cooling his heels and feeling very out of place at some stuck up country club, where he feel he has more in common with the staff than the other members. Of course, that could be because the staff include his new 'how have we never met before' best friend Scott and the 'it should be physically impossible for someone to be that perfect' new crush, Derek. Who apparently hates him - but not enough that he won't swallow his pride and put up with Stiles' presence when he's needed to help get Erica out of trouble...

Last Update: 2016

Fandom & Main Pairing: Teen Wolf ; Sterek

Personal Notes: I honestly don’t remember anything about this fic. So. Enter at your own risk.

[ambivalentmarvel]

so the story behind this is that @sreppub​ arrived in my dms saying “sitcom starring two uppity, former rich guys and a regular poor college kid who follow up an online ad and become roommates” and i said something along the lines of “your MIND” and here we are. she does the art, i do the fic, and we both yell a lot along the way. read it on here or ao3 and enjoy!!

The Sitcom Supreme

If Peter or Stephen were around to hear Tony tell the story of how they all ended up rooming together, they would have plenty of objections, to which he would call them both dirty liars, to which they would gang up on him because they’re terrible and like that, to which he would probably throw up his hands in exasperation and/or make the mistake of engaging them in a debate, to which they would grin like wolves because, once again, they’re terrible and like that, but Tony’s the asshole who put up the Craigslist ad, so he gets to start—because he’s terrible and like that.

It’s a common trait amongst the three of them, what can he say?

The beginning of the story does not involve either of the other two, however. It begins with Rhodey, who is only occasionally terrible and like that. Rhodey has been Tony’s best friend since the tender age of fifteen. Considering Tony at age fifteen was a greasy little douche bag with too much money and a whole bunch of daddy issues that were somehow more obvious then than they are in the present, this is an impressive feat. 

Where things start, Rhodey and Tony are roommates at MIT, which is Howard’s school of choice to shove his problem child onto. Tony is supposed to get a single dorm room, but there’s a cockroach problem in that building. Administration has to get creative, which is how Rhodey, fresh out of boot for the fall semester, gets saddled with approximately one hundred and fifty pounds of neglected teenage boy who has only kind of gone through puberty.

The first words out of Tony’s mouth are blunt: “Any chance you have plans to drop out?”

And Rhodey looks at him with a raised brow, efficiently unpacked and totally unimpressed with the enormous stack of Tony’s things wavering in the doorway. “You have any plans to quit being annoying?” he retorts, which set the tone for their entire relationship.

Tony loves him to pieces. 

He’s the older brother he never knew he needed, yanking him by his collar from frat parties on the weekends and to his house for holidays because getting swamped by Rhodey’s six younger siblings is infinitely better than having to wear a suit and tie for Christmas dinner with six CEOs and maybe some senators, depending on the year. In return, Tony sees him through every finals week of his collegiate career, during which Rhodey gets so nervous he usually pukes at least daily and pulls so many all-nighters Tony memorizes the exact shade of red his eyes are at the end.

So, it’s safe to say they get along well. They get along so well, as a matter of fact, that when they stare at each other after their graduation ceremony for their Masters—a two-year process for both of them, and Rhodey receives two degrees to Tony’s four—surrounded by Rhodey’s family and Jarvis, Tony’s lips curl in a smirk Rhodey knows spells the best kind of trouble. “What do you say we keep the roommate streak alive, yeah? Howard’s building an office in New York, and I’m thinking of doing a doctorate at NYU.”

Rhodey’s brows raise, but he’s grinning, so Tony already knows his answer. “Depends. Are you still gonna’ snore?”

“Are you still gonna’ have a stick up your a—”

Mama Rhodes shoots Tony a look from where she’s trying to corral the rest of her kids.

“—butt?” he finishes with a sheepish glance her way.

Rhodey does not even remotely have a stick up his ass, but of the two of them, he features in tabloids far, far less, which Tony somehow uses to his advantage.

“You know it,” Rhodey replies, and so they find a fancy penthouse that Tony mostly pays for, with the excuse of Rhodey satisfying his part of rent via generally covering Tony’s ass to the best of his ability. And he has a lot of ability, honed from years upon years of Tony self-destructing at the drop of a hat, but there’s only so much he can do, especially as his military career just keeps flying higher and Howard just keeps pushing Tony harder.

A few sex tapes, especially wild benders, and crashed cars later, when Howard cuts Tony off and tells him, quote, “I won’t speak to you until you learn to do something other than disappoint me”, Rhodey very gracefully still shacks up with him in their considerably less fancy apartment.

This is all important to know, contrary to what someone whose name may or may not rhyme with Tephen Trange might say about Tony’s “long-winded” and “overly-complicated” storytelling tendencies because it explains exactly why Rhodey is a traitor.

Is Carol a very cool lady who could kick Tony’s ass? Yes. Is she sickeningly cute with Rhodey and not just because a smile from her makes him melt into a pile of fucking goo on the floor? Also yes. Does it probably make more sense for Tony to find roommates who will actually be around to monitor his—allegedly—poor mental health and self-care habits? Okay, fine, yes, but the bottom line is, Rhodey is moving in with Carol and abandoning Tony, and nobody said he had to like it.

(This is not strictly true, what with the approximately ten conversations Rhodey and he have had about his happiness and how, if Tony needs him, all he has to do is say the word and he’ll be back, but Tony has always had a flair for the dramatic.)

The whole idea is that Tony will find someone gone less than Rhodey with all his military business to enjoy having around the apartment. It’s technically a three-bedroom, but he and Rhodey use the extra one for storage. Fortunately or unfortunately, that storage area has become a lot of junk they go through before Rhodey makes his grand exit, and Tony suddenly has the option of having two roommates.

The ad is a low point, he can admit that, but there is a flaw in what Tony loudly calls Rhodey’s master plan to leave him alone to wallow in misery: Tony doesn’t exactly have a lot of friends, nevermind people who he’d want to live with.

“Rhodey. Honeybear. Platypus.”

“The nicknames are old, and you need to stop using them around Carol. She called me Platypus last night during sex, and it ruined the whole mood.”

“You poor thing.”

“She thought it was hilarious.”

If Tony has to lose Rhodey to anybody, by God, Carol is his first choice by a long shot.

“Anyway, as I was saying, Sourpatch—”

“I hate you.”

“—how am I supposed to find someone else to live with?”

Tony is thirty-two and regularly speaks out with all of four people: Pepper, Rhodey, Carol, and Happy. Unfortunately, Happy works in Stark Industries’ California branch and has stated rather firmly that he’s not interested in transferring to the city, Pepper wouldn’t live with another person for love or money, and the other two are spoken for.

It’s a terrible situation to be in, honestly.

“Craigslist,” Rhodey deadpans, fighting with some packing tape.

Tony feels his heart stop beating in real time from his place folding some of Rhodey’s clothes into a plastic tub. His head snaps up, and his jaw drops, absolutely affronted. “You would suggest that I, even disowned and stripped of my former glory—” Tony has several million dollars in the stock market, but that’s neither here nor there and isn’t much compared to the fact that he was supposed to be a billionaire. “—would stoop to looking for live-in friends on Craigslist?”

Rhodey looks up to meet his eyes, unfazed. He’s used to Tony’s antics after nearly two decades of friendship. “Well, I’m not moving out until you have at least one person guaranteed to take my place, so unless you have any better ideas, yeah.” He shrugs—just shrugs, as if he isn’t advising Tony to scrape the bottom of the fucking barrel in terms of reliable people to regularly fall asleep around.

It’s insulting.

“I’m not putting out an ad for a roommate on Craigslist,” he protests, shoving the next horribly colored polo into the tub with disdain.

That night, he tears up thinking about stopping Rhodey from being happy with Carol, and the post is up by the time Rhodey gets up—stupidly early, like normal—for his morning run. Along with his contact information and a few blurry pictures of the place, it includes a blurb about the circumstances.

Best friend moving out. Need a roommate or I will die of Sadness. His girlfriend is cool but hewas mind first. Carol, I am watching you. Two rooms open for business. But not sketchy business. You can just lve there. Current resident (me) is cool and very charming. I am a man. No dumb fuck offers. Thanks.

It could use some work, but Tony’s never been great with words, even less so when he’s crying to rock ballads at two in the morning. He edits it when he wakes up, and by noon that day, it’s looking better.

At seven o’clock that evening, he receives one of two messages that actually work out.

Enter the first offender: Peter Parker.

Peter, Tony will learn, is nineteen, attending NYU—like Tony did, which is a sign, really—for a double major in biochemistry and physics, and has the worst luck of anyone Tony’s ever met.

Rhodey’s moving out in a week—he’s been putting off finding a roommate for a while, alright—and Peter has to legally be out of his dorm in three days. That is quite the predicament, and Tony, by nature, is a curious creature. He is not, however, one for beating around the bush. That results in a text that reads exactly this.

Tony: What the hell did you do?

He could hack through the university files, but explanations are always more fun with a personal touch that’s lacking in, say, an incident report. Tony watches a bubble with three blinking dots for a long, long time, and the reply is surprisingly sparse—sparse enough, in fact, for Tony to have more questions than answers when he receives it.

Unknown Sender: theres been a few things but the kicker was the fire

Tony: The fire?

Unknown Sender: i tried to make popcorn and the microwave blew up

Now that is some problematic behavior Tony can get behind. He amends the kid’s previously non-existent contact information.

Tony: How can they kick you out for that? That’s not your fault.

Roommate (?) Peter: it blacked out the power on the entire first floor

Tony: And?

Roommate (?) Peter: last month i got the blame for contaminating half the campus water supply

Roommate (?) Peter: so i was already on thin ice

Tony: Accidentally?

Roommate (?) Peter: idk sometimes things just happen to me

Tony doesn’t know how to respond to that. If Rhodey knew, he’d never let him live it down. He can hear his annoying laugh in his ears like a premonition—“Hah—Tony, speechless?”—but then there are the dots again and a simple message to follow the last, a touch pathetic.

Roommate (?) Peter: please let me move in

Tony likes him.

Peter shows up on the stairs of the complex thirty-six hours after Tony posted the ad with a backpack and a meager total of six beat-to-shit boxes. The backpack holds nearly all of his school supplies, which makes Tony, in retrospect, genuinely fearful for the integrity of his spine, and the contents of the boxes are sorted, as Tony will learn, into three categories that each have two boxes in them. The categories are fairly simple—clothing, necessities, and whatever other shit he could fit from his dorm—and leave Peter with thrilling possessions such as an entire collection of truly atrocious shirts with science puns on them, a gallon of hand soap, and any food he had in his cupboards.

Thankfully, Rhodey is out furniture shopping with Carol when Tony goes out to meet him, which solves the problem of Rhodey going into overbearing caretaker mode at the sight of a beanpole of a kid failing to manage their life successfully. As someone who has been made many a you-haven’t-eaten-a-meal-in-two-days-and-I’m-secretly-a-panicking-mother-hen casserole, Tony counts his blessings.

Tony waves. “Peter?” he asks, reluctantly changed out of his pajamas for the day.

The kid nods. “That’s me. And you’re Tony?”

“Guilty as charged. Want a hand with those boxes?” he asks, watching Peter lift three at a time.

“No, I got it,” he insists, and then the box on top slides out of his grip and onto the sidewalk.

Peter stares at it for a second before he lets out a long-suffering sigh.

“Maybe I could use some help,” he admits, and with much struggle, the two of them, each with three boxes, waddle inside. There is a moment and only one moment where Tony thinks that it might be nice to have some extra assistance, but with another thought of the things Rhodey would do at the sight of a woefully inept college kid, Tony decides it’s for the best.

Tony leads the operation, considering he has the key and also knows explicitly where they’re going, and he would have to say his biggest complaint about the ordeal is that Sam, who lives in the apartment below Tony and Rhodey with Steve and Bucky, happens to open his door as they walk by.

Being an asshole, he has something to say about it. “Need some help, shellhead?” he crows.

Tony wishes he had a free hand to flip him off.

“Watch your back, Wilson,” he growls in return, a continuation of the beef the five of them have maintained since they met approximately seven years ago, when they all moved in on the same day and kept knocking into each other’s shit in the halls.

When they reach the top of the next flight of stairs and Tony starts to fumble with the key, Peter asks about it. “So—uh—who was that?”

“That was Sam. Part of the deal with moving in is that you harass him and the other two idiots who live with him. He also responds to jackass, douchecanoe, or birdbrain.”

“Birdbrain?”

“It’s an old joke. He had a rather—” Tony grunts, forced to set down his load to unlock the door, “—spectacular run-in with some pigeons a few years ago.”

“Oh.”

“They shat on him. A lot.”

“Oh.”

“It’s a good nickname,” Tony assures him, throwing open the door with his arms flung wide for dramatic flair. “Welcome to Casa Stark. I mean, I guess it’s Casa Stark-Parker now, but if we’re hyphenating, my name goes first because I lived here first.” He holds up a finger as if to stall Peter, who has yet to speak from where his mouth is decidedly blocked by the aforementioned three boxes he is carrying. “And I know what you’re going to say—that Parker-Stark works better because it’s alphabetical—but that is where you are wrong because letters have no place in this house. Numbers are much preferred, and we play by seniority here, anyway.”

He gives Peter a meaningful look that he cannot see because, once again, boxes.

“More on that, by the way—”

“Hey, Tony?” 

He cuts him off which is, objectively, rude, but Tony rarely gets along with people who aren’t a little curt with him from time to time. This is a positive sign, really, so he allows it.

“Yeah?” 

“This can be Casa Stark-Parker, but can we get to somewhere I can set these down? My arms are, like, going to give out on me.”

Not even ten minutes in, and he’s already learned the art of bargaining. Tony’s proud, and he ushers him inside without any more monologues and a grin stretched across his face.

Peter, by virtue of moving in before Rhodey is out, ends up with the room that is no longer being used for storage. Tony has several questions for him, beginning with the fact that, despite the six packets of instant noodles he bothered to bring, he does not appear to have a mattress. Or a desk. Or a dresser. Or anything that’s supposed to go in a room.

His solutions for Tony’s concerns are as follows.

In place of a bed, he has two blankets, one to put on the floor and one to cover himself with. He was planning on sitting on the floor to do schoolwork instead of using a desk. And finally, he was going to leave his clothes in the boxes.

This is all relayed to Tony with an earnest gleam in his eyes and a smile.

Tony blinks in disbelief. Then, very eloquently, he says, “Kid, that is the saddest shit I have ever heard. Aren’t your parents helping you with the move to an apartment?”

The kid shifts from foot to foot, shoving his hands in his pockets and glancing to the side.

Tony’s eyes narrow. As someone who is extremely well-versed in avoidance tactics, he feels very confident in saying that is definitely a fucking avoidance tactic.

“About that,” he begins, “first of all, I’m an orphan.” Jesus Christ. “Second of all, my aunt doesn’t exactly—uh—know I got kicked out of the dorms.”

That is all interesting information, to say the least, but luckily, Tony thrives under pressure.

“Alright. I can respect that.”

It’s not like he never hid anything from his parents. Evading his aunt is Peter’s problem, not Tony’s. None of this is Tony’s problem, really, except then he looks around the room and wonders which of Peter’s boxes are holding his two blankets.

Tony was concerned about Rhodey, but he can’t stop himself.

“But I’m also gonna’ level with you—you’re not sleeping on the ground. You can take the couch.”

The until I get you a proper bed frame and mattress goes unsaid, but sometimes things like that are better as surprises. It’ll be a fun housewarming gift, Tony thinks, and by the time the shipment from IKEA arrives containing both of those things and the aforementioned missing dresser and desk, there will be a third roommate to help put it all together, not that either of them know it yet.

That night, Rhodey and Carol show up with enough ingredients for lasagna to serve four, and Tony delights in showing off Peter as they cook because now he has a “super cool roommate too! Take that, Platypus.”

Rhodey glances to Peter. “If you’re being held hostage, blink twice.”

“Hey!” Tony protests. He is a perfectly lovable roommate, thank you very much, and he’s so offended, he’s not even going to let Rhodey know about his mission to furnish Peter’s room.

God bless her, Carol just laughs.

The four of them get along with surprising ease, considering Peter’s only been around for a few hours. Peter even tries to help with the lasagna, but Tony has a near-photographic memory and has not remotely forgotten the popcorn incident, however vaguely it was described.

“You just sit there and be a nicer person than Rhodey,” he urges him, and Peter nods, hiding his grin behind his hand at the argument that starts.

Once everyone is done, he and Rhodey get suckered into dish duty while Carol spirits Peter off to the living room, claiming she has to warn him about what he’s getting into. Tony doesn’t care enough to complain, and when her back is turned, he splashes a plate of suds onto Rhodey’s front. 

Rather than rise to the bait, however, he raises his brows, slipping into what Tony affectionately calls his big-brother-giving-a-stern-talking-to mode. “You have to be a good example for him, Tones.”

Tony blinks. “I’m sorry, did you just say—”

“I’m serious!” They keep their voices mostly down, but Rhodey’s rises a bit with the declaration.

“He’s nineteen—an adult, in case you forgot. He signed the lease all on his own and everything,” he hisses back incredulously.

He thought he dodged the bullet by not disclosing just how underprepared Peter is to live in an apartment, but Rhodey’s head dips. Tony braces himself for the part of his big-brother-giving-a-stern-talking-to mode where he tells Tony he’s making a bullshit excuse and needs to get it together. “Don’t give me that. He’s a baby adult at best, and you know it.”

Yep, there it is.

“That’s still an adult!”

It is! Tony was on his own way earlier than nineteen. This is not a big deal, no matter how outlandish Peter’s circumstances are for moving out of NYU’s dorms.

“Watch his back.”

Tony scoffs. “It’s not like I was going to feed him to the wolves. I’m barely thirty—I’m not his dad.”

“Tony.”

Ah, the final, crushing blow of this version of Rhodey: his name—but with emphasis.

Tony sighs. “Fine,” he acquiesces. “I solemnly swear I will not let him get up to no good.”

A beat. Rhodey squints at him, slowly lowering the plate he’s holding into the sink. “You told me you refused to read Harry Potter.”

Shit.

Back when the books were first coming out, Rhodey was insufferably obsessed with them, and Tony loves him, but emotionally, he couldn’t handle having Rhodey think he was willing to discuss anything having to do with the series for longer than thirty seconds. Thus, he read the books—everyone in the world was doing the same, okay, and he cannot stand being out of the loop—but lied to Rhodey about it.

And now, he’s been made.

Rhodey and he launch into a very spirited discussion that draws Carol and Peter back to the kitchen, and despite the vein throbbing dangerously in Rhodey’s forehead, the promise has been made.

The day after Rhodey moves out, he and Peter manage to flood the bathroom.

In Tony’s defense, he only promised to look out for Peter. He said nothing about curbing his own dumbass tendencies, and it’s not like Bucky’s bedroom is all that damaged by the leak that Tony fixes before it’s really even a problem.

He and Peter settle into a nice sense of camaraderie, and Tony, content with his situation, forgets to take down his Craiglist ad that, logically speaking, someone would have to dig to find at this point, over a week after initially posting it.

Then, he receives a text that is as simple as it is effective: Is there still an available room in the apartment?

Enter the second offender: Stephen Strange.

Ahem, Doctor Stephen Strange, technically, but Tony has six PhDs. Nobody sees him going around making people call him Doctor Stark, and that’s because it makes him sound pretentious and stuffy, both things Tony prides himself on not being. However, Tony likes to push buttons, and very little gets Stephen worked up as fast as someone ignoring his credentials.

It’s a fun set-up, really, but annoying the piss out of Stephen is something that comes a little later—Tony’s not there yet in the story.

He humors the text, and after getting a read on things, he bursts into the living room, startling Peter nearly off the couch. He’s been doing his homework there and on the coffee table in front of it because the Swedish have many things but fast shipping is, apparently, not one of them, not that Peter knows there’s anything to be waiting on, but he’s getting off-topic.

Peter lets out a short yelp and presses a hand over his heart, both things that Tony ignores.

“We have a situation,” he announces.

“I swear I didn’t do it,” Peter defends pleadingly.

Tony is trying to teach him that messing things up is expected and, especially in particularly magnificent cases, admired in Casa Stark-Parker, but it’s a work in progress.

“I know you didn’t—don’t be ridiculous,” he waves his concerns off. “We are talking bigger than setting things on fire by accident. I bring you, my young protege, the proposition of—” A pause for dramatic effect. “—another roommate.”

“Ooh,” Peter says appropriately, setting his textbook down to examine the texts Tony brandishes. He begins to scroll, but while he does, Tony figures he can go ahead and fill him in on the essentials. It’s a very juicy situation, after all, and he can’t help himself.

“His name is Stephen Strange. He’s a neurosurgeon, but he got into a pretty bad car wreck that messed up his hands. He’s trying to save money while he goes to physical therapy—he apparently has a chance of recovery, but it’s a ways off—and that includes downsizing on where he lives.”

“I mean, yikes, but that’s an oddly specific backstory.”

“I’m glad you think that too, but I am intrigued. I looked him up, and he’s a real person—has a basically flawless reputation, or at least he did before his accident. Thoughts?”

Please say yes, please say yes, Tony thinks. The chance of a competent human—not including Rhodey, who looks more put together than he really is next to the chaos Tony perpetually dwells in—choosing to live with him is too fascinating to pass up, and he needs Peter to see that too.

Peter shrugs. “I’m down if you are. How old is he?”

Victory!

Satisfaction floods Tony, but he tries to maintain his cool.

“Thirty.”

Peter blows out a long breath, tipping his head back to look at the ceiling. “I didn’t anticipate moving into a nursing home,” he remarks dryly.

What a little shit.

It’s worth noting half the reason Rhodey left so easily is because he said he trusted Peter to keep Tony on his toes. Then again, that Tony likes being snarked at is a large part of why they get along so well despite only knowing each other for a matter of days.

“You’re the worst, Parker. I’m going to feed you to the hooligans downstairs. Steve has a monster appetite, you know.”

Peter hums, picking his textbook back up. “Not if I feed you to them first. And, Tony?”

“What?”

“Only old people say hooligans.”

Tony thinks about that one book, Give a Mouse a Cookie or whatever. Except in his case, it’s Rent a Teenager an Apartment, and Tony doesn’t have to adhere to the literary equivalent of a G-rating.

His response to the dig is creative and colorful, and Peter laughs.

Four days and a brief conversation at a coffee shop later—a formality he and Peter did not do and probably something Tony should’ve thought of as the older adult before giving him the address—Stephen’s team of movers invade the apartment.

The man himself stands like a drill sergeant at the last flights of stairs it takes to get to the apartment, arms crossed, beard wild, conducting activity.

Peter and Tony share their evaluations, peeking their head out from the doorway when it’s unoccupied by movers and Stephen isn’t looking their way. This involves quite a bit of ducking, but they are very careful not to be caught.

(Someone’s whose name may or may not rhyme with Tephen Trange later informs that “they were not at all subtle” and “were, in fact, very embarrassing”, but that’s how things with the three of them generally are, so Tony figures it was a good crash course to how life together goes.)

“He’s kind of scraggly,” Peter whispers, his head under Tony’s because he’s the shorter of the two of them, something Tony delights in refuting Peter’s quips about his age with.

“Kind of? He looks like a hobo.”

It’s true, okay? Facially, at least, the guy is a wreck. He’s not quite to Einstein levels of bad hair day, but he’s getting there.

“Be nice,” Peter chastises him. He’s gentler than Rhodey when he does it, but considering neither of them ever shut the hell up and they have thus bonded very easily over the course of their short relationship, it’s gotten to feel as natural as most of their interactions.

“All I’m saying is that I am happy to retain my place as the most attractive person in the apartment, okay?”

They’re forced to retreat from the entryway as another load comes through, and Peter looks at him disbelievingly. “Dream on,” he replies bluntly.

Tony gasps in offense.

Peter shrugs. “Look, I’m just gonna’ say it—you knew Rhodey before me, and now that I’m here—” he trails off, looking at Tony in faux-sympathy that doesn’t match the mischievous glint in his eyes.

While it is true that Rhodey is a fine specimen of a man—yet another reason Tony can’t, in good conscience, be truly angry Carol mooched him away from the bachelor lifestyle—Tony can’t cede that easily for the sake of his pride, and he scowls. “I am going to pretend you didn’t say that.”

They’re still bickering as the movers finish up and Stephen enters the apartment, dressed in what Tony recognizes as the latest from Armani and Tom Ford.

He may not get invited to fashion week anymore, but he still has taste, alright, even if Rhodey limits him to one designer purchase a month.

(Rhodey isn’t around to see what packages he orders now, Tony thinks but shelves the thought for later.)

Tony and Stephen met over coffee, and all three of them said hi to one another before the moving business officially began. However, there is a little stiffness in the air, make no mistake. It’s not Stephen’s fault, exactly, because he’s just kind of a foreboding guy, but still.

It figures that Peter would break the ice. As Tony’s found and will continue to discover, Peter is just as talkative as him. Granted, that trait usually appears in the form of rambling about something from class, but it’s not surprising that his natural passion for life comes through with someone about to be very, very involved in it. 

“Hi!” he begins. “Are all of the movers gone now?”

Stephen raises an unimpressed brow. “Yes.”

His reply is seriously lacking enthusiasm, but Tony isn’t allowed the opportunity to jump on that as Peter keeps going. 

“Sweet! Okay, so welcome to Casa Stark-Parker.”

Woah, woah, woah—timeout.

Tony frowns, raising a hand in a motion for Peter to stop. “I thought that was my thing?” he interjects.

“Well, it has my name in it, so it gets to be both of our things,” Peter replies, then furrows his brow, looking to Stephen. “Actually, since you’re here now, I guess it’s Casa Stark-Parker-Strange. Order’s based on who got here first, sorry,” he explains with a smile that Tony, now familiar with the fact that Peter has more to him than meets the eye, notes is a touch impish.

Tony is pleased to see, despite his generally wholesome appearance, the kid has at least picked up on the power of staking a claim.

Stephen blinks. His hands, Tony has noticed, don’t stop shaking, not even when he folds his arm across his chest, like a physical barrier between him and Peter’s excitement. “Okay?” he drawls slowly, confusedly.

“Tony’s rules, not mine,” Peter assures him as if he doesn’t just want the satisfaction of having his name not be the last in the line-up.

Tony scoffs. “Oh okay, so now we’re throwing me under the bus?”

“You have to take responsibility for your actions, Tony.”

“Oh, sure thing,” he replies, tone betraying that he does not, in fact, think any responsibility is at all necessary. He looks to Stephen, rolling his eyes. “Can you believe what I have to put up with? And it’s barely been a week.”

Stephen blinks again. “I see it’s a lot,” he says measuredly.

Peter gasps, unaffected. “Oh my God, we should make a sign for it,” he enthuses. “We can put it up on the door, and we’d be so much cooler than Sam and them.”

To say that Peter rose to the challenge of bothering their downstairs neighbors with zeal is something of an understatement. 

Tony is, honestly, a fan of the sign idea, especially if it were to light up, but that is where Stephen cuts in, his hands still trembling as he gestures. “Can we slow down for a moment?” He looks carefully from Tony and Peter and back again, bearing the appearance of a man in the throes of realizing he has made a bad decision. 

Tony knows that look well. It usually shows up when Rhodey agrees to one of Tony’s ideas and doesn’t realize just how badly constructed it is until it’s too late.

“First of all, I am fairly certain my car is parked illegally, and before we get too far, I need to fix it before I get towed. And secondly,” Tony watches Stephen’s lips curl in a self-satisfied, I-totally-think-I’m-better-than-you-even-if-I’m-not-technically-saying-it smile, “I am not here to be part of any Casa. I am waiting for physical therapy to work for me, and then I will be out of your hair. I appreciate being able to live here, but—”

Yeah, Tony’s had enough of that. Personally, he would like to thank Rhodey, who, in a way, begins and ends the story, and truly is the greatest best friend a man could have for teaching him how to properly deal with pompous rich people.

“Nuh-uh, none of that. If you’re living here, you’re a part of Casa Stark-Parker-Strange whether you like it or not.”

Stephen looks downright appalled that someone would dare to interrupt him, which, Tony knows from experience, is exactly the kind of shock rich people need to go through. He splutters for a second before he manages to get out a reply, “That was not in the lease.”

Tony spreads his hands as if to say what can you do? “And you didn’t mention in your texts that you were going to try to be a bump on a log, but here we are.”

Perhaps sensing the mounting animosity in the room or maybe just as excited as Tony to have someone to bother, Peter takes advantage of Stephen’s overwhelmed and bewildered state.

“First day with all three of us!” he shouts. “Picture!”

And before anyone can protest—including Tony, who would prefer to be documented in something other than a Black Sabbath tee and his work pants—Peter leans in with the camera on his phone ready to capture the moment.

In the resulting photo, Tony looks vaguely alarmed, Stephen looks pissed as hell, and Peter wears a grin that stretches across his whole face. The whole thing is blurry, and they eventually get it framed.

It’s a beautiful and fitting start to their time as roommates, and in the humble eyes of the asshole who posted the Craigslist ad, that is how the story of how they came to live together went.

[fijiangecko]

Maintaining a New Life

Chapter 1: Ripple on Still Water

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Read it on AO3 here

Kuroo Tetsurou x Reader

Rating: Teen and Up for Violence and Language

A/N: Hey guys! I’ll be uploading biweekly, on Wednesdays around 6pm MST. A taglist is a lot for me to handle but check it out on AO3 if you wanna keep up with it!

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The Armed Detective Agency (ADA): a business meant to help the police and citizens solve cases that might require extra help. Looking in from the outside, the residents might seem normal and like every other private investigation agency on television, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. Each member possesses a special ability - a gift, some might say - that makes them stand out from the rest. Each member is unique in their own right, but this group of people combined in one place creates something truly terrifying. There are currently twelve employees at the agency that work full time, and the rest are assistants and part time college students. The two presidents, Keishin Ukai and Ittetsu Takeda, started the agency roughly four years ago, and their workload has only grown since then. Everyday, new cases fly through the doors and members are tasked with helping where they can.

Currently four of the agency members are walking through the streets, searching for an address marked on a manila folder. A small breeze drifts through the streets as you look around. Winter is coming to a close, and of course you’re not wearing a sweater, choosing the fit over functionality. Gazing around once more, you spot the numbers on the files you’re carrying and corral the three men in the direction of the doors, shoving the one with jet black hair slightly harder then the others.

“No need to get all pushy, Y/N.” Kuroo slightly smirks, turning to face you as they both make their ways across the street.

“Wouldn’t need to if you just paid attention, right?” Giving him an innocent smile you can’t see the two others roll their eyes at the light banter. The cold air nips at their skins as Akaashi watches with curious eyes while Bokuto knocks on the door.

“Hello? We’re with the Detective Agency! You called us about a case?!” The silver haired brute waits a second or two before he starts to pound on the door, growing impatient as there hasn’t been an answer. A small look is shared between the crew as nothing happens.

Akaashi glances at Kuroo and yourself before shoving Bokuto out of the way. Sighing softly,you take a step forward and grab Bokuto’s bicep, guiding him back to where Kuroo stands and missing the cocked brow that Kuroo offers to Bokuto at the physical contact. In retort, he wiggles his eyebrows and laughs under his breath.

Ignoring whatever was happening between them, you approach Akaashi. He whispers something to himself as a faint blue aura builds around him exponentially, until it bursts like broken glass. Scope - Akaashi’s gift. His eyes dilate as he looks around the house through the windows. Everything is crystal clear to him, and nothing seems to be out of order in the front of the house. He circles the side with you close behind, and peers through the glass panes at different angles until his eyes twitch. 

“The back door is kicked in,” Akaashi points through the window, directing your view. Upon seeing the broken wood and glass scattered around the floor, you cuss under your breath. “Fuck.”

Quickly making your way back around to the front, the two friends stop what seems to be a serious conversation as you and Akaashi have an air of urgency around yourselves. You don't bother filling them in as Akaashi is alreading explaining what he saw as you jiggle the door knob. Much to your dismay, it’s locked.

“Looks like they already got to him,” you announce, turning to scan their faces. Kuroo can see the stress starting to build on your brow and changes his stance, grabbing the handgun tucked under the back of his waistband. After almost three years of knowing you, he’s grown to tell with just one look what goes through your head.

You fold the file and pass them to Bokuto. “Hold on to these, please. Kuroo and I are gonna go in and check to see if anyone is still around. I need you and Akaashi to stay put just in case they try and make their way out.” The two nod their heads.

“So how are we gonna go about this chibi-chan?” Kuroo cocks the gun and looks through the window, peeking around what corners he can see.

“First off, ew, don’t call me that, I told you to call me Y/N.” He chuckles softly as you take out your own pistol. “And two, we’ll use my portals to get in without ruining the front door. I’ll take upstairs and you can sweep downstairs and the basement.” Pressing the safety off, you turn with intense eye contact towards him. “Sound good?” He can sense the shift in tone and nods.

Looking through the glass panels on the door, you take a deep breath in. The same blue aura builds around you at a much quicker pace then Akaashi’s. It combusts and your gift is revealed - portals. A two and a half meter tall rift opens up before the door, revealing the inside of the residence. Kuroo fixes his stance and enters first, swinging around his gun as he searches. He jerks his head back and motions for you to follow.

The air in the house is warmer as the AC gently rumbles in the background. Kuroo heads right as you slowly ascend to the left. The stairs creak softly as your footsteps reach the second floor, and cautiously you search around. An older woman had contacted the agency about this case, informing them that she’s been worried about her son and the kinds of people he’s been meddling with. This was the only address she could give the agency. Even Bokuto with his superior deductive skills wasn’t exactly sure what to make of it.

Stalking towards the left, you peeks into an office room and checks the corners before approaching the single desk by the windows. There are papers scattered around, mostly tax and budgeting forms. 

“Well he isn’t in financial distress, that’s for sure,” you softly speak to yourself, shuffling the papers around, hoping to find more info about either the man or his compatriots. Underneath all the papers, the letters “ANZEN TECH CORP” on the top of a document catches your eyes. Pulling it out, the header reads “HUMAN DRUG TRIALS”.

Panic slowly builds in your throat as you reach into the desk drawers, quickly sorting through them to find anything relevant. The cabinet filled with other lab reports and drug details, how each participant reacted and how eventually all 23 test subjects passed away. Your heart rate picks up, telling you to fetch the others before something bad happens. This case is way bigger than we thought, you think to yourself.

Against your better judgment, you decide to search all of the bookshelves and filing cabinets in the room, looking for other company documents. None of the guys have given a signal, so I have time. You clear the desk in one foul swoop, the trinkets breaking and clanking as they hit the ground. Throwing all information on the desk, you take a breath to focus and start to filter through the collection of data. You’ve always had an eye for patterns, one of the quickest intelligence officers in the office, and with baited breath, it doesn’t take long to realize what’s going on.

“2020, 2014, 2008, 2002, 1994… jesus christ.” You run a hand through her hair and lean back against the chair. “How-” A loud crashing sound takes your train of thought, as well as shouting from downstairs. Shoving the papers onto the desk, you grab the gun and rush down the steps. Searching quickly, Kuroo is getting up from the ground by the basement door and he’s yelling at something towards the back.

“GET BACK HERE BASTARD!” Your body moves before fully realizing what’s going on, and you’re already out of the back door, hopping over Kuroo in the process. For a split second you see a figure hop over a fence on the right, gun in hand you bolt towards the figure. Almost with grace, you hop over and catch the strange figure making their way to the next fence. They look behind, and you catch sight of the person’s black hair and glasses. It’s got to be our guy, you think while pressing harder to catch up.

Kuroo runs up next to you easily, as his height doesn’t hinder his ability to leap over the fences. “I go left, you go right?” He pants while slowing to match his pace with yours, but only slightly. 

“Yeah,” you huff harder, going beyond (plus ultra) as your thighs tense and hurl yourself up, grabbing the ledge of the fence and using the momentum to hoist up and over the wall in one fluid motion. Kuroo watches your movements, close to being fully distracted, but does the same as he breaks off.

The man is slowing down, so he’s probably not used to this much physical exercise, you think while panting and avoiding the slight burn in your thighs. Kuroo advances, his height helping a little too much as he runs close to him. Right as he places a hand on the man's shoulder, Kuroo is blasted back, the remnants of a blue aura evident on the man’s palm.

“Kuroo!” You veer in his direction, slowing your pace to assess the damage. As you approach, he flips onto his knees, waving her off.

“Go! Get the guy!” He coughs, gripping his side and you regain focus and begin to run. Getting close to him isn’t an option at this point…. Think Y/N! Then it hits you, right as your feet touch ground over the next wall. Body tired, but mind determined, you push even harder. I got a plan, just got to get closer!

The man's pace is getting slower by the second, and once you know for sure he’s within range, you build an aura. The area flashes a bright blue, and before he can realize what’s happening, he’s colliding into someone. You had opened a portal right in front of him, the receiving one right in front of you. Like a trained soldier, you grab his forearm and twist hard, making the man spin around. Some pressure on the backs of his knees causes him to fall over. You force his chest onto the ground, and hold his arms in a lock, making sure to avoid the palms of his hands. 

Lungs burn slightly, you focus on your breath not realizing that Kuroo walked up until he placed a hand on your shoulder.

“Thanks,” he speaks softly, and uses his eyes to silently ask if you’re okay. Nodding to assure him, you move off of the man, Kuroo quickly replacing your position. Pulling out your phone, you dial Akaashi. 

“Dr. Takahashi, is it?” you speak as the phone begins to ring. He doesn’t say anything, but the look in his eyes is all the confirmation you need. The phone beeps for another moment before the voice on the other line goes through.

“You guys alright?”

“Yeah, winded but fine. Takahashi must’ve been hiding in the basement and tried to make a break for it.” Turning to Kuroo, he nods to verify the story. “Where are you guys?”

“We’re back at the house still. We heard the ruckus, but by the time we looked in both of you were gone. Bokuto deducted that it was a chase so we decided to stay put for the time being.” Humming in affirmation, you spin around, putting a hand on your hip and breathing in the fresh air.

“Well, we’ll make our way back to you. I found some stuff I think everyone should see.”

“Okay, sounds good. We’ll contact Takeda-sensei and fill him in quickly.” The line beeps, and you glance at the scientist before looking to your partner. 

“You’ve given your mother quite the heart attack Dr. Takahashi.” Kuroo gets up off of his back but keeps his arms in a tight grip.You have done this many times with Kuroo, and secures his arms before yanking him onto his feet. The three begin to walk as Kuroo pulls out a pair of handcuffs and is careful to put them on, avoiding the palms of his hands.

“What did you find at the house?” The cuffs click into place as he trudges along.

“I think it’s better if we all talked about it,” he hums in acknowledgment of your answer and walks back to meet with the other agency members. You take the moment of ease to prop her hands atop her head, taking deep breaths and sweating in the cold air.

“Struggling?” Kuroo chuckles at your stance, taking in the sights. A small cloud of air passes your lips, the sunlight hitting your cheekbones and the annoyed look etched into her lips.

“Piss off.” This causes him to laugh harder right before entering the house. The sound is not foreign to you, but your stomach does a small flip every time you hear it.

Bokuto rushes up, checking them both over. “You guys okay? Y/N looks run down,” Kuroo howls at the comment, turning his body to face away from the group with a full body laugh, clutching his sides.

Huffing, you grab Dr. Takahashi’s shoulder, directing him to the living space and has him sit down. “I’m fine Bo.” He purses his lips as he curiously looks between the two.

“So,” Akaashi breaks the silence, “What did you want to show us, Y/N?”

“Right.” Blicking back into focus, you brush past Bokuto and Kuroo. Reaching the room, you take all the documents you can grab before triple checking they are all within your grasp.

Downstairs, Bokuto sits across from Dr. Takahashi, making intense eye contact as Akaashi asks him some basic questions.

“Dr. Takahashi, born in 1975 and has worked for Anzen Tech Corporation for the past 20 years as a chemist, correct?” Cold eyes stare into the tea table, no words are spoken. “Well, that’s the information your mother has given us, so I’m going to say that it is correct.” Pulling a pen out of his pocket, Akaashi takes the files from Bo and begins to mark bits of information.

“A chemist, huh?” Kuroo leans over the table to stare, but once again he is unresponsive. “I also have my degree in chemistry, but I’m curious to know why you’re working at a tech corporation.” His golden eyes burn holes into Takahashi’s forehead, but he simply looks dead.

The interaction is halted as you march into the room, stacks of papers practically falling from your arms. Softly, you bump your hip into Kuroo’s side, telling him to move as you set the piles down in full view of Dr. Takahashi. Gauging his reaction, you catch the way his shoulders tense and eyes dilate.

“Where did you-” he starts, startled, but you are quick to cut him off.

“You’re not very good at hiding things, doctor.” The manila folder on top of the stack makes its way into your hands. With parted her lips you begin to read from the first page:

“Anzen Tech Corp. Human Drug Trials

Test Subject No. 23 - Watanabe Amida

Age: 21

Gender: F

Blood Type: O-

Notes: No history of drug or alcohol abuse. In good health. Family history of colon and skin cancer, but no major complications. No major visits to hospitals for injury or illness.

Cycle 1: Injected with 15ml of treatment. Skin around the puncture started to rash and the subject threw up within 3 hours. Subject will be returning home for the night before observation and dosage tomorrow.

Cycle 2: Subject stated they only received four hours of sleep, as they had to keep returning to the bathroom. Skin is no longer raised, but it is a deeper shade of pink. Received another 15ml, will be uping to 20ml if skin remains the same color tomorrow. No rash after injection, and the subject seems much more drowsy. Keeping overnight for observation.

Cycle 3: Subject sat up and stared at the wall all night saying “Not here”. They received several pills from staff to help sleep, but their eyes were constantly open. The rash appeared on different parts of the body (upper back, injection site and calf muscles) before returning to normal. The skin continues to be a darker shade. Staying at 15ml. Subject immediately began dry heaving and scratching at the skin. Force was needed to strap her down to finish dosage. Eventually required tranquilization to observe bodily functions. Spots that had rashes before began to bleed, and new rash spots had appeared. Blood was found in the corner of the left eye. Upon further inspection, we determined it came from the eyelid and not the eyeball. Keeping overnight.

Cycle 4: Subject never woke from tranquilization. Old rashes bleed throughout the night, but the whole body was covered in them. All orifices had small amounts of blood coming from them. Subject passed early morning before injection.”

A scowl adorns your features as you pass the file to Akaashi. The room is still as all eyes are on the trembling doctor. His head shakes slightly as the cuffs audibly shake behind him.

“We didn’t…. We…” His voice is soft, softer than a pin dropping.

“Didn’t what.” Venom spills out of your mouth, eyes pinpointed on the monster in front of her. Kuroo’s fists are clenched, knuckles turning white, but the way you speak makes him realize that you could cause a lot of damage if the doctor says one wrong thing. He’d only witnessed you in this state a handful of times, but only once did he see you lose it. Never again, he looks at your figure, placing a hand on your shoulder.

“Y/N,” Kuroo speaks with concern laced into his words. “Let’s take a step back.” His hand pulls on your shoulder ever so softly before you give in and takes a few steps back to be in line with him. Kuroo’s hand remains on your shoulder, rubbing small circles with his thumb to help soothe you. He’s furious, but right now he needs to prevent a disaster.

Silence continues to fill the room, slowly drowning the hustle and bustle of the city right outside the window. “We didn’t know that this is what they wanted.” Voice cracking, Takahashi speaks through silent tears. “They told us it was for medical purposes.” Kuroo’s thumb stops its movements. “They said that it was to help…”

A cold chill runs down everyone’s bodies. More fuel is added to the fire. “But these people were dying under your care. Did that not trigger any red flags doctor? You might not be a medical professional, but continuously injecting people with a substance that causes them to break out doesn’t seem ethical to me at all.” You brutally torture the doctor with your words.

“They told us they were willing-”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Your words boom over the quiet hum of the A/C. Even the boys flinch at your tone, Bokuto and Akaashi looking at Kuroo. His lips are pressed together, resuming his circles into your shoulder. You are beyond tense, but he isn’t sure how to reel you back in. A blanket of silence settles over the room once more.

Bokuto takes files based off of the patients, looking for patterns among the records. Akaashi takes out his own device, texting reports back to headquarters about the case, noting your hostile position to Takeda and Ukai as he awaits a response on how to deal with the situation. Kuroo looks at you once more, racking his brain of what to do, but comes up short. He squeezes your shoulder before approaching the table. Silently, he sifts through the documents, until a file with chemical symbols catches his eyes. Dr. Takahashi goes rigid once again as he realizes what Kuroo is looking at and panics.

“You said you’re a chemist! You have to understand!” He stands suddenly from his seat, attempting to reach out to Kuroo. Hands moving faster than bullets, you grab Takahashi by the collar and slam him back onto the couch as he screams. “YOU HAVE TO UNDERSTAND!”

Akaashi stands and situated himself between her and the doctor, Kuroo gripping your bicep to prevent any further movements. “We can’t have him harmed, Y/N.” Akaashi presses his phone into your hands, a silent signal to look. Taking it, a message from Ukai and Takeda states that they have already made contact with the police and agency members will hold off until Takahashi is taken into custody.

“Whatever,” you place the device back in his hands and easily yank your arm back from Kuroo’s hold. Walking to the front yard, you know everyone is uncomfortable with you being in the room. A great feeling, my own teammates are scared of me. 

Kuroo can’t help but sigh, already knowing what’s going on in your head. Quietly, he exchanges glances with Akaashi and resumes looking at the files in his hands. Bokuto stops his own research as he catches Kuroo’s expression change. “What is it?” He stands and meets the other man in the center of the room. Smart as he may be, he is no chemist and doesn’t know what to make of all of the lines.

Grinding his teeth, Kuroo runs a hand over his eyebrows, exasperated. “They are making a steroid - trying too, at least. I’m no geneticist, but it looks like they want something to permanently enhance a person's physique. Which has never been done…” His cat-like eyes narrow in Dr. Takahashi’s direction.

“That would explain why they only looked at candidates who were physically fit and had no previous signs of injury or illness.” Bokuto chirps in, taking the file from Kuroo’s hands.

“The police are five minutes out. I would suggest we put everything back in order and have Kuroo and Y/N wait outside for them.” Akaashi, always observant and cautious, speaks as he arranges the mangle of papers on the table.

Bokuto nudges Kuroo in the arm, wiggling his eyebrows and Kuroo scoffs and walks outside. You have your arms crossed, weight shifted onto one leg as the other bounces. You can see him observing you in your peripheral, but chooses not to comment. You can feel your face heat up a tad bit. Although you've been partners for years, you don't exactly like feeling like you’re being observed.

The past three years had meant a lot to both you and Kuroo. You’re one of the founding members of the agency, alongside Takeda-sensei, Ukai-sensei and three others. Kuroo had joined with Kenma, Bokuto and Akaashi just a year later. The agency was so small back then, but finding a whole group of gifted people was a blessing for the business. The group of men seemed genuine in their gestures, quickly fitting in. Kenma was quiet, a stark contrast to Bokuto who could be boisterous at any given moment. Akaashi and Kuroo were observant, scarily so, but they learned their strengths from the group. His jokes didn’t always land, but Kuroo found himself listening to your laugh anytime he told one. You always tried to welcome new people in like they were long lost relatives, making the transition as easy as possible. He appreciated the gesture and found himself drawn to you.

Mystery shrouded you, no one knew your past, and anytime someone asked it was brushed off with a simple “it’s a long story” and a giggle. The first year, he would let it slide, just satisfied in hearing you talk, but the longer he stuck around, the more Kuroo found himself wondering just how much he didn’t know about you. Yeah, you’re one of the smartest and combat effective members of the agency, but he couldn’t tell you your birthday, your favorite color or what college you went to. It drove him crazy, really. Kuroo consoled Bokuto, who quickly laughed at him, teasing him for his crush on a coworker. He blushed, but didn’t deny it. Over the next year, he asked questions whenever he got the opportunity. Some, you would answer, but most you would shut down. 

After months of pestering, they got drunk at Kenma’s apartment and you told them all that it was frustrating. “I just want to be straight forward, what’s my business is my business. If I want to tell you, I’ll fucking say it.” You shrugged, placing the beer bottle on the counter. Kuroo didn’t press as much after that, even if you did tell him that you talk a lot of shit when you are drunk. You both had a straight to the point kind of relationship full of trust and understanding. Both of you are grateful to one another for many reasons, but being excellent partners on the field is somewhere in their top tens.

“You know, you could just ask if I’m upset?” You walk up the yard, looking down both sides of the road to look for the cops.

“I know, but I can tell.” He watches from his spot, concentrating on your body language.

“Then stop looking at me like I’m a lab rat.” you don't turn as you speak, instead slightly bent over on the sidewalk looking down the street. He sighs, knowing that this is just the manifestation of your frustration, but that means it just doesn’t affect him.

“Y/N. It’s not like that and you know it.” Physical contact would upset you more, or that’s what he’s led to believe from past encounters, so he stays put. The conversation dies just as quickly as it had started.

You know he cares about you. The slight sting of regret prods the back of your mind before you finally make your way back to Kuroo’s side. Mumbling, you whisper out a quiet apology. He acknowledges the statement with a small laugh.

“It’s okay. I know how you can get.” He places his hand back on your shoulder and starts rubbing circles “And I also know that you were about to rip that guy’s head off in there.” He motions with his other hand to the house, a smile adorning his lips.

“Yeah, and? He probably deserves it. At this point, he’s either gonna be killed or put in jail for the rest of his life. Might as well make the process easier and less paperwork intensive on everyone.” you hiss lightly, rolling your eyes. Kuroo’s hand rubs harder circles into your shoulder when he feels you tense.

“And all I’m saying, is that the agency would kill you if you murdered someone. Then I would get punished for letting you.”

“But you’d let me.” He laughs, watching the police cars round the corner and park in front of the house.

~

The next 30 minutes are a blur as Akaashi and Kuroo handle the police and have statements taken. You and Bokuto take the back seat and just stand around on the lawn, making small talk until you’re all permitted to leave.

“So how about dinner? We got the job done and Y/N found some great info that’ll get the agency some more cash, so why not celebrate? Huh?” Bokuto wiggles his eyebrows vigorously at the group as they step into a subway car. 

“I think I’m good Bo, I’m just gonna finish up the paperwork for today since you guys took care of everything.” you quickly find a seat, letting the boys fend for themselves on a workday afternoon train. They squeeze in, trying to get close enough to you to continue the conversation. 

“You don’t have too you know. We’re perfectly capable of doing our own paperwork,” Akaashi, honest as ever, speaks over the crowd.

“Plus, you did use your gift to save our asses, so you shouldn’t do extra shit if you don’t have too.” Kuroo pipes in, trying to get closer to the group.

“No it’s okay guys, you’re probably gonna drink and I got all riled up. It’s not a big deal, so drop it.” You’re stern with your words, and both Akaashi and Kuroo get the memo.

“But you never go drinking with us. It’s kinda ridiculous.” Bokuto holds the band above your seat, staring straight into your eyes. His eyes plead, and his lips hold a frown.

“How about when the payment goes in from the court cases? Then I’ll go out with the whole agency for happy hour.” You know that he will not stop asking until they compromise or you agree, so you settle for what you can get.

“Fine. But if you bail on us I’m gonna have you buy me cases of beer for the next month.” The words cause a scowl to form on your face, knowing that the ladder would be much more costly than a single night out. 

“Deal.” You come to an agreement and quietly take the rest of the train ride to talk about menial tasks around the office.

~

The agency was slow when the group entered its doorway. Kenma doesn’t bother looking up from the small device in his hands. A large group of workers turn their heads, looking at who opened the front door. 

“Y/N-chan!” Oikawa is sitting on Iwa’s desk as he waves to his second favorite detective. The other boys say their hellos, Lev and Hinata practically have a screaming match as they greet the crew, and normal office chatter resumes. You walk to your desk, which is situated across from Kuroo’s and in a group with Akaashi and Bokutos, then plop down into the wheely chair, letting a sigh escape your lips.

“Welcome back guys.” Ukai and Takeda come out of their private office to check in on everyone. “Everything go okay with the police?” Ukai takes a huff from his cigarette, and blows the smoke upwards.

“It was fine.” Kuroo takes a seat at his desk. “They seemed grumpy that we touched the evidence, but it was all just paperwork so they’ll clear it.” A reassuring smile takes its place on his lips, and you roll your eyes.

“That’s good. I’m glad you guys were able to grab him in time.” Takeda walks over to their desks and smiles at the group, placing a hand on your shoulder. “And I’m glad nothing happened.”

Well that was a blow to my self confidence, you think while smiling to assure Takeda-sensei that it was okay. You boot up the computer and pull out some papers from the desk and begin the paperwork, already very tired from the day's events. Takeda takes the hint and walks to Akaashi’s desk, starting a brief conversation.

Kuroo eyes you from across the desks, trying to get a good look at your eyes. Usually your body language is pretty telling, but in an office scenario it becomes a thousand times harder to know what you’re thinking. Your eyes are always a good tell, but you're avoiding looking at him in order to focus. He huffs, leaning back into his chair and spins to take a view of the agency.

Oikawa and Iwa are still talking, or rather Oikawa is talking while Iwa works. Lev, Kageyama and Hinata aren’t focusing on their work at all, instead they’re trying to get Kenma’s attention, who is still engrossed in his game. Tanaka and Nishinoya whisper amongst themselves about God knows what as they giggle. A good majority of the agency members had called it a day and went home or out, leaving this last case before their doors shut for the afternoon.

Takeda and Ukai share small conversation at the back of the room before sending the younger ones home, including Tanaka and Nishinoya seeing as they weren’t working. They try to send Iwaizumi and Oikawa home, but both refuse as they tend to walk you home at the end of every night. The three of you got along very well, and tended to take cases together pretty frequently, but lately you've been spending more time with Kuroo and his little gang.

No one in the agency knew what was up with Iwa, Oikawa and yourself. You three were glued at the hips from the moment the two boys stepped into the agency, almost like you knew each other in past lives. The fluidity in your teamwork was seamless as you took charge a majority of the time, another thing Kuroo could admire about you. A small portion of the agency believed that you knew each other before working with the ADA, but if they had nothing has ever slipped. No red flags have ever been set off and everyone just let it slide. By some cosmic power you three had found each other and would die for one another (not that any of you would admit it). 

“It’s okay Takeda-Sensei,” Oikawa hopped off of Iwa’s desk and waved a hand in the air, “We’ll lock up. I still have some paperwork to finish anyways.” Always a sweet talker, Oikawa spoke with a honeyed tone as the presidents took his word, leaving the office to just six members.

Quietly, Akaashi and Bokuto finish what little they have left to do and wait for Kuroo. The chemist took his sweet time, seeing Bokuto’s eyebrows furrow as he typed slower and slower.

“Sorry, you guys waiting on me?” He turns, giving them an innocent look and laughs when Bokuto’s scowl etches itself deeper on his face.

“Kuroo, please hurry. I don’t want him to turn emo before we go out,” Akaashi leans and whispers. “If he drinks when he’s emo I’ll just have to carry him home while he’s crying.” The imaginary scenario made Kuroo chuckle, but he finishes his work swiftly before looking up at you. Still hyper focused on the screen, your keyboard firing off like a gatling gun. Your r.b.f. was showing, but he didn’t mind; instead he was admiring the soft glow from the computer on your cheekbones.

“Ready, bro?” Bokuto slaps him rather hard on the back with a large, toothy smile. It snaps him out of his thoughts, but he scoffs playfully before getting up.

“You sure you’re going to be okay, Y/N?” The sound of your name derails a train of thought, eyes flickering between the work laid before you and the raven haired male stretching on the other side of the desk.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. Tooru and Hajime are gonna walk me home, and I’ll be done here within the next hour or so.” Flashing a reassuring smile, you return to the files without waiting for an answer. Kuroo looks over at the aforementioned males, Oikawa flashing his signature smirk.

“Okay, be safe guys.” He waves at the three before turning to Akaashi and Bokuto, who are waiting at the entrance. With one last glance at you, he follows his companions out the door.

Oikawa and Iwa share a few words while they work, leaving you to your own devices, knowing that once you’re “in the zone” you won’t be stopped anytime soon. The sky starts to shift from a light baby blue to soft peach and oranges as the day drags on, the air cooling further as the night starts to settle in.

The pair listen to the hum of the city streets as you finish your last page of work. It ends up being much later in the night than they had anticipated, but none of them had anything going on. As the keyboard clicks and clacks come to a halt, you speak with an air of caution.

“The Port Mafia’s getting closer.”

[myheartrevealedocs]

Untouchable- Ch 3: The Fox (S1E7)

Summary:  A Spencer Reid x OC fanfic that retells select episodes, starting in season 1, from the point of view of Lydia Ambers, a forensic scientist.

Warnings: lots of murder, including the murder of young children, swearing

Ch 2 | Ch 4

~ ~ ~

“First case. Are you ready?”

Lydia glanced at Gideon, an eyebrow raising in the process. “Shouldn’t I be? I’ve done two months of preparedness training. And I’m not exactly out in the field.”

He chuckled. “You’re a crime scene investigator. Is that not ‘out in the field’ enough?”

“I just mean: I’m not facing down the bad guys, I don’t carry a gun, I sit and look for fingerprints. Not much to get the adrenaline pumping.”

When she said that, his face turned to a serious one. “I don’t know about that. This case is bad.”

She followed him into a conference room and he nodded for her to sit at a circular table, while he opened a case file and started to pin pictures on the wall. And he wasn’t lying. They were gruesome.

Lydia was accustomed to, if not entirely comfortable with, looking at some horrifying scenes, but it was rare that children were involved in something so violent.

A family, all killed in a dark room. The scene was a bloody one, almost all of them looking to have been stabbed except the father, who was shot through the head.

Elle was the first to join them and greet Lydia, before swiftly disappearing to grab the others on the team and start the case debriefing. Lydia did her best to assess their willingness on her joining the team as each one entered and shook her hand. Morgan seemed genuinely happy to have her and JJ was automatically polite. Reid, however, was harder to… read. He gave her a curt nod and a, ‘Nice to see you again,’ before sitting down.

Gideon and JJ went back and forth describing the case: the Crawford family had been found in their basement. It was set up to look like the father had stabbed his entire family before shooting himself. Which would mean the unsub was dead. However, they had a similar case from a month ago. 

Scratch similar. The exact same case from a month ago. Every detail. Including the assumption that their killer was dead in the house.

And a bonus was the fact that both families were supposed to go on vacation five days before their bodies were discovered, but they’d only been dead for 24 hours.

It was the perfect set up, Lydia realized. She didn’t know what someone would want a whole family for, but this unsub knew how to trap them all at a time when no one would go knocking on their door.

She tried to keep up with them as they spoke, but she was overwhelmed fairly fast. As Morgan and Gideon went over organized and disorganized contributors, JJ introduced a suspect into the pool. A man named Eric Miller, who’s ex-wife and children were part of the first family that was killed and who was just picked up by police after a month of being off the grid… with his kids’s blood on his jacket.

The physical evidence was fairly damning. And he disappeared for a whole month. That didn’t exactly play into his favor. Lucky for her, deciding whether or not he killed them wasn’t her job. She just had to find more evidence.

“Was any of his DNA found at the Crawford house?” Morgan asked.

“No.” Gideon was immersed in the photos he had. He didn’t look up even as he was talking. Lydia was curious what he planned to find in the pictures, but didn’t wish to disturb his thoughts.

“Did he know the Crawfords?” Reid continued.

“If he does, he’s not saying. In fact, he hasn’t said a word since his arrest,” JJ finished, leaning back in her seat. “Uh, the Arlington PD has asked us to interview him,” she told Gideon.

Reid finally picked out Miller’s mugshot and made a sound of disbelief. “If anyone could apply overwhelming force, he’s your man,” he said, catching a small laugh from JJ.

“I want you to find out,” Gideon told him. “Talk to him.”

His demeanor changed almost immediately. “Y-you want me to… talk to him?”

“Yeah. You’ve done interviews before with other agents running point. You can go solo.”

The boy looked at the other faces at the table nervously. Lydia actually enjoyed seeing it from someone so prideful, but she repressed a smile. He didn’t deserve teasing right now, he honestly looked terrified to conduct this interview alone.

“Morgan, Ambers, the Crawford house is a fresh crime scene. Once the Crawfords were brought down to the basement, they must have known their fate.”

~ ~ ~

Lydia’s eyes traced the walls of the stairwell as Gideon led them down to the basement. She wanted to see some signs of distress: a fight or scuffle. But not only were they clean, they were lined with perfectly straight mementos: picture frames, a wreath, two tennis rackets, etc. The family all walked down willingly.

But how do you control an entire family? Who alone has that much power?

“M.E. said they were all killed down here,” Gideon explained.

In the center of the blue carpet was a perfect red circle, which Morgan walked around and towards a separate smear on the washing machine.

“Sam was found here, Emily over there. So… I’m the unsub. How did I do it?”

Morgan flipped through the photos of the bodies, nodding at Gideon’s words. Lydia watched their process, knowing that if she was probably going to investigate quite a few scenes with them like this.

“Well, I had to bring ‘em down here first.”

“How?” Gideon prompted.

He shrugged, his eyes looking between the spots where the bodies were found. “I had a gun.”

“Ok. Use a gun to force them down here. What next?”

“Stab ‘em.”

“Who first?”

“The strongest,” Morgan said. “The father.” He held a photo next to the washing machine. It showed Chris Crawford laying against the machine awkwardly.

Lydia shook her head. “Chris Crawford wasn’t stabbed. He was shot.” She pointed at the smear. “The blood trail there follows his head as he slumped down and died. And there was no other blood on him or around him.”

“Okay.” Morgan rearranged the details in his mind. “Shoot the father, and then stab the mother.” In her photo, Allison Crawford was pale faced, blood dripping from her mouth down her neck and into her gold hair. The unsub had left her in the center of the room.

“How you gonna keep the kids from running away?” Gideon asked

Morgan thought about it a moment. “Restraints. Can’t aim a gun at them and stab the mother at the same time.”

“No restraints were found on the victims.”

“Because I took them with me,” he argued.

“No ligature marks were found.”

This threw Morgan for a loop. He flipped through all the photos in his folder, looking up at the locations in each photo.

“Let’s go upstairs,” Gideon offered. “See how they lived.”

Lydia took one final look at each of the blood pools on the floor. A five year old boy and eight year old girl. Had they really sat there and watched someone kill their parents in the middle of their basement?

~ ~ ~

“The yard is overgrown,” Gideon observed. “And like the roof, Chris Crawford’s car is in need of maintenance, but Allison Crawford’s SUV is in pristine condition.”

“Says here that Allison drove the kids to school. If they were educated privately, maybe the car was just an attempt to show the other parents wealth,” Morgan reasoned.

Lydia sighed. “Adds up to the rest of the house.”

“Rest of the house?” Gideon asked.

She gestured to the living room table. “These magazines are clearly placed. No one finishes reading a magazine and then places it into a perfect fan shape so that the title is showing. They’re designer names. And I don’t see any other magazines in the house, so likely, they were trying to fake subscriptions to high end magazines they don’t have.”

Gideon smirked. “Expensive furniture and a plasma screen TV. Behind the curtains: water damage,” he said, adding to Lydia’s statement. “Allison spent money on the things her friends could see and neglected those they couldn’t.”

“You saw the water damage,” Lydia argued, and Morgan went to confirm the accusation.

“The Crawford’s lived beyond their means,” Gideon continued, ignoring her comment.

“So, where’d the extra cash come from?” Morgan demanded.

“Get Garcia to check their financial status,” he instructed and disappeared into the kitchen.

Morgan nodded for Lydia to follow Gideon as he turned on his phone to make a call.

“Emily,” Gideon whispered, pulling a painting off the refrigerator, then turning it towards her. It was a house, painted entirely black. At the bottom, signed in sloppy, capital letters was the Crawford’s daughter’s name, Emily. “This painting is of this house. Strange that, for a child, it has no color. Has lines, dimensions, but no color.”

“Was there any indication that Emily had some kind of mental disability?”

Gideon’s brow furrowed. “No. Why?”

Lydia waved away his confusion with a flick of her hand. “Nothing. It would just explain her dedication to realism over classic, childish fun. I can search her room for anything else to indicate she would paint something like that?”

Gideon nodded and she left, jogging upstairs and immediately finding a door with Emily’s name on it.

The room was more than enough evidence that the painting downstairs was not typical of Emily. If her bright personality didn’t shine through her colorfully decorated walls and sparkly clothing, her collection of paintings did. This girl obviously had many different colored paints and she used them.

Lydia sifted through a couple of pictures on her desk until shouting from downstairs distracted her.

“Help me! Help! Please! HELP ME!!! No! NO!!! Please, no!”

Lydia could feel her heart pounding in her chest as she leapt down the stairs and found Gideon shrieking out of a window, a very startled Morgan watching him.

“NOOOOO!”

Morgan glanced at Lydia when she fumbled into the room, but he didn’t look concerned for Gideon. If he was, he likely would have interrupted this far sooner. But he definitely didn’t know what was going on.

His yells only lasted about a minute, before he went completely silent, not moving from his spot in front of the window. The other two held their breath in anticipation of an explanation, but he stayed there until a light came on in the house across the street. Then another. A dog down the street erupted into howls at the disturbance.

That’s when he turned around. “Why didn’t anyone hear them scream?”

Morgan looked out the window once more, to see the concerned neighbors rushing outside or opening their windows. And just like that, Gideon was off again to another part of the house.

“Shit,” Lydia mumbled. “I guess that’s one way to make a point.”

~ ~ ~

Before she knew it, she was back at headquarters. The case was close enough that they set up their evidence boards in the conference room so they didn’t have to impose on a police station. Hopefully she’d stay there for the rest of the case, knowing that she’d only be asked to leave again if another crime scene appeared. But, she was at a loss right now with what little evidence she had. A kid’s painting that didn’t match the others? And proof that someone was able to control and keep silent a whole family of four in their house for four days? She had no clue how this all formed into a profile that Gideon claimed he’d already started.

“I believe the unsub had control over this family,” he started. Everyone except Hotch, who was in Garcia’s office trying to make sense of the false wealth lead, sat around the round table, watching Gideon piece together his theory. “He may have separated each family member. He tells the mother, ‘If you scream, I’ll kill your children.’ He tells the children, ‘If you cry, I’ll kill mommy.’

“The suspect found a way of restraining them without leaving marks. Based on lividity, the M.E. estimates that the father was the last to die.”

“Which means he witnessed the whole thing,” Morgan added. “If the unsub did spend time with both families, he must’ve known he had the time to spend with ‘em.”

“‘Cause he knew they were going on vacation,” Reid reasoned.

“Look at travel agents, relatives, work colleagues, contract workers, children’s tutors-” Gideon was interrupted by Hotch’s voice over the intercom in the center of the conference room.

“Gideon, we’ve been looking into the Crawford financials.”

Garcia’s voice stepped in to explain. “Allison Crawford spent way more money than Chris could afford. They were in major debt.”

“And Chris Crawford wrote a number of checks for a series of visits to a therapist.”

This wasn’t surprising news, although it didn’t give them anything. There still wasn’t any shady business in either household.

“Allison had two cell phone accounts… one of them billed to a separate address in southeast Washington, D.C.”

Everyone perked up, quickly taking note of this new discovery.

“Did you get that?” Hotch asked.

“Yeah, I got it,” Gideon sighed. “Ambers, stay here. The rest of you, let’s go.”

~ ~ ~

When the team got back, they were taking a man in for questioning. Lydia followed them to the interrogation room hesitantly. Gideon had said that they were looking for a smaller man in stature and this guy was anything but. He was awkward and nervous, sitting with Gideon and Morgan while the rest of the team looked on from the other side of the double-sided mirror.

As she watched the interrogation go down, Lydia took mental notes of everything she could on this man:

Frank Fielding. Unconfrontational. Attached to the painting Gideon was holding. Right-handed. Sweaty. Manic-depressive. On medication. Nervous stutter. Guilty conscious. Calls Allison Crawford ‘Ally’... 

‘Cause he was her brother.

Lydia could see Gideon and Morgan losing their assurance that this was their guy as Frank started to cry over the loss of his sister. His sadness then turned to anger and he started to blame Chris for killing his family.

“The rule was-- I was never supposed to go to the house,” Frank explained. “That was the only rule.”

Allison Crawford used money her husband didn’t have and was embarrassed by her mentally ill brother. That gave two men in her life motive, but not enough to kill a different family.

He explained how Chris hated him and how his phone was cut off and that was the reason for his visit. That led to another small burst of anger. He began banging his fists against the table and Gideon moved away.

“There’s no way this guy could’ve gotten into the house without a key,” Elle reasoned, shoulder-to-shoulder with Hotch, directly in front of the glass. She was right. He was tall, large, and clumsy. Not exactly prime ninja material. “Knowing how Chris Crawford felt about his brother-in-law, do you see him having one?”

“No,” the unit chief replied.

They sat there for a few more minutes, listening to Frank explain his visit to the Crawford house and seeing his sister and a stranger at the table. As he spoke the words out loud, he seemed to figure out what they were all thinking. This stranger was the unsub.

Gideon and Morgan tried to calm him, but Frank started to freak at the thought, banging his fists against his head and shouting. They were quick to jump into action, pushing him against the wall and holding back his hands. Hotch, Elle, and Reid all ran in to help, but Lydia stayed behind, just staring at the prescription pill bottles he had discarded across the table.

She hated those things.

~ ~ ~

“He’s been looking at those pictures all morning,” Elle mumbled over her cup of coffee, in reference to Gideon. Morgan was just hanging up a call and Reid was at his desk, looking over something.

“Well, I sure hope he sees a connection,” Morgan replied. “‘Cause I’ve checked doctors, lawyers, travel agents, tutors, contract workers. I’ve got nothing.”

“Why target those families?” Elle asked.

Hotch walked past as she said this, his nose in a file. “Well, to know that, we have to know how.”

“All right,” Morgan started, pulling the attention of the whole team. “We know organized killers are often skilled workers with above-average intelligence. High birth status. And in most cases, male. In the workplace, he’s socially confident. And with women, sexually confident. Every offense is preplanned. Targeting the victim is almost as pleasurable as the actual kill. These guys they’re… they’re meticulous. It’s a compulsion. Everything has to have its proper place.”

He was winding up, beginning to pace around the bullpen as he formulated his profile.

“They do exhaustive amounts of research on their victims. They watch their every move, every last detail is observed. Everything has to be written ever so neatly in a book or possibly a journal. Like, when the kids are coming home from school and when daddy’ll be home. Playtime. Suppertime. Bathtime. Bedtime. Plan the work… work the plan. This is the way that he maintains control.

“He takes great pride in his job. I think the workplace has to be the connection.”

Hotch looked like he wanted to say something, but for the first time that morning, Gideon emerged from the conference room, holding up the two paintings from Emily that he’d collected.

“Both are by Emily. Painted months apart. This one… is full of color, life,” he explained, holding up the framed photo from Frank Fielding’s house. “The one I found at Emily’s house has lines, dimensions. No color. Ambers, you said you saw other ones in her room?”

Lydia’s eyebrows knit together. “Yeah. She had all sorts of paintings: fields, trees, stick figures, other kid stuff. I think the only color she didn’t use was black.”

He nodded, assuring her that she was confirming his thinking. “I believe Emily was coerced to paint this. It’s a point of view. It is his point of view. This is where the killer stood and just watched the family.”

“What does he get out of making them paint the house?” Lydia asked, but she was interrupted by Hotch dropping his wedding ring onto Elle’s desk.

They all stared for a moment as it spun, fell flat, and Hotch put it back onto his finger. “Each of the dead husbands was missing his wedding ring. This is the unsub’s trophy. He targets a family because he lost his own, and for a few days, he gets to play daddy.”

“And he can do whatever he wants because no one’s gonna come looking because they’re supposed to be on vacation,” Morgan continued.

“Ambers, I want you to go to forensics and have them check the inside of Chris Crawford’s clothing,” Gideon instructed. “The suspect may have worn the father’s clothes, too. Complete the fantasy.”

She nodded.

“So, why kill them?” Elle asked.

“Because the fantasy can’t last,” Gideon reasoned.

“Do we know anything that actually helps us identify this bastard?” she demanded.

Lydia could tell she was getting more frustrated by the minute. She wondered briefly if Elle was naturally impatient.

“Wait a minute,” Morgan mumbled. “Chris Crawford worked for the I.R.S. and… Reese Miller was a secretary at the GAO.”

Elle sat forward. “That makes them both government employees.”

The team was already halfway out of their seats. Gideon reminded Lydia to head to forensics as soon as possible, before grabbing a file and leading the team to the elevator.

~ ~ ~

“Hey Garcia,” Lydia called as she walked into her office. “I just got off the phone with Gideon. He…” she paused, startled to find another presence in the room. “Dr. Reid, I’m sorry.”

He somehow seemed just as shocked to see her there. “Oh… hey, Lydia.”

The fear in his eyes made her suspect that she had walked in on something, but Garcia was completely unaffected. “What’s up with Gideon?” she asked, pulling Lydia’s attention back to her.

“Right. Both the Crawford’s and Reese Miller were seeing a therapist. He thinks that might be the connection.”

She nodded and began typing at a furious rate.

“Any luck in forensics?” Reid inquired.

Lydia shook her head. “No foreign DNA was found on the clothing in evidence. My guess is he washed everything before he left.”

“Here we are. The Crawfords made 12 weekly payments to the Applewood Family Medical Center,” Garcia interrupted.

“What about the Millers?” Reid asked, leaning over her shoulder to get a good look at the screen.

“No, nothing here.”

“How about pharmaceuticals? Nobody gets therapy these days without a healthy dose of medication.”

“What are you implying, Reid?”

“That everyone is medicated.”

Garcia stopped and looked up at the boy, shocked. “Did you just make a joke?”

“No,” he replied. “I meant statistics. They- They show that-”

She laughed and cut him off. “Reid, next time, just say yes, okay?”

He glanced at Lydia, like she might be able to explain it to him and she couldn’t hide the grin creeping on her face. He was somewhat of a goofball. Far different from the silent, stoic figure that she’d met in Santa Cruz.

“Now, medication normally requires reimbursement from the HMO, and since she works for the government, like you and I, we share the same healthcare provider.”

Reid raised an eyebrow. “Are you hacking into the government’s HMO database? Is that legal?”

“‘Course not. We’ll all go to prison, you’ll be someone’s bitch, and Lydia will become a hustler.”

“Oh, hell yes!” Lydia cried and he grimaced.

“Really?”

 But Garcia was already onto the next topic. “Oh. Right there. Good call, Reid,” she complimented as a new page popped up on her screen. “Mrs. Reese Miller-- Diazepam.”

“Who prescribed the meds?” he asked.

“Dr. R. Howard at the Applewood Family Center. Let’s find out what he looks like. Here we go.” She did some more typing and a photo of a ginger woman popped up on the screen.  “... Dr. Howard isn’t a he.”

“That doesn’t add up. She fits the description, but Fielding said he saw a man.” Lydia pulled out her phone and dialed Gideon’s number right away. “Hey Gideon? Yeah, Garcia’s got a Dr. Rachel Howard at the Applewood Family Medical Center? Small woman, orange hair, and she prescribed Reese Miller anxiety meds. It’s the same facility that the Crawfords went to family therapy at.”

He made a sound of understanding and hung up.

“Oh, Lydia?” Garcia started again. “I sent an email to an administrator at a nearby university about you starting online courses.”

“What?!” She leapt forward and ran to the girl’s side. “You didn’t have to do that! What did you say?”

“I told them I’d hack their site and frame them for stealing from their students if they didn’t admit you immediately,” she joked.

Lydia rolled her eyes. “Oh great. Thanks, Garcia.”

“No, silly! I just told them how brilliant you are and your plan to transfer to online classes while you worked for the FBI and I sent them your transcript-”

“Garcia! Where’d you even get that?”

“I thought you’d already graduated, Lydia,” Spencer spoke up.

She shrugged. “I got my undergraduate, but I had already applied to start getting my master’s degree when Gideon offered me this job. I guess experience might mean I don’t need it anymore, but I didn’t want to just drop out of school, so Garcia was helping me try and transfer to an online school so I could continue my education.”

“Do you plan to get a PhD?” he inquired.

Garcia gasped, suddenly. “Oo, you totally should. Then we’ll have another ‘Dr.’ on the team to compete with boy genius.”

Lydia laughed. “I’m not sure I could survive that. And I’m not sure anyone could compete with boy genius. I wouldn’t know what to do with it. I mean, people with a doctorate tend to become college professors and do extensive research in their fields… I just want to look over crime scenes and work in a lab. The master’s degree was truly just to help me widen my options… and because I didn’t have anywhere else to go after graduation.”

“You know, a lot of agents become professors after they retire,” Reid explained.

“Not an agent-” Lydia tried to argue, but Garcia was getting excited again.

“Oo! Oo! Dr. Ambers! Tell me that’s not the coolest name!” she exclaimed.

Lydia smiled at her and Reid was suddenly reminded of something that happened back in California, when they had met.

“Hey, you didn’t flinch.”

Lydia raised an eyebrow at him. “What?”

“You have everyone call you Lydia. Because when Gideon called you ‘Miss’, you reacted badly. But you didn’t flinch when she called you Dr. Ambers.”

Lydia was speechless. She had never liked to be called by her last name, she knew that much to be true, but he was right, she hadn’t minded the new title. And now that she was thinking about it, the first few times Gideon called her ‘Ambers’, she’d been unsure, but she’d started to answer to it without hesitation. 

But how had Reid noticed? She’d barely noticed.

“You don’t like to be called Miss Ambers?” Garcia interrupted her thoughts, causing her to startle. “Oh, you’re right, Reid. She did flinch.”

“I don’t-” she started to complain, but stopped herself.  “Listen, I don’t think changing my title is reason enough to get a PhD. And I don’t have the money. My student debt is crazy and if I don’t get a full time job as soon as I get my master’s, there’s no way I’ll pay it off.”

“Oh, I can help you cut down the amount of time it takes. I had 3 PhDs by the time I was 21.”

Lydia turned on Reid with a look of utter shock. “Three? Three?! Reid, I know you’ve got your memory going for you, but that doesn’t even sound possible.”

He smiled, his lip curling in as if to hide his satisfaction. She could see a small blush grace his cheeks. “It is possible. For you, too. I’d be happy to help you get your doctorate… if that’s what you want.”

Lydia glanced between the two before her. They both seemed extremely excited by the prospect, which she couldn’t deny would be an awesome thing to accomplish. But time and money weren’t exactly things she could spare.

“I’ll consider it,” she agreed.

~ ~ ~

A little while later, Gideon sent Lydia on another errand, calling her to tell her to go to the medical center herself and help Hotch search for the trophies of the suspect they had taken into custody: Karl Arnold.

A CSI team had searched Karl’s house, and decided it was clear, which meant he likely kept his trophies in his office. And since Lydia was supposed to be the team expert on searching for things out of place, she hopped into one of the team's SUVs and drove herself to meet up with Hotch.

He was already well on his way through the office when she got there, every drawer and box open and many miscellaneous objects lying around. He started throwing books off a bookshelf and she ran over to join him.

He was starting to get really frustrated. He was muttering to himself, wondering how hard the crime scene investigators had searched the house, because there was clearly nothing here. Once all the shelves had been clear, he stepped back, still huffing.

Lydia eyes searched for other places around the room that could fit the missing wedding rings and quickly shushed Hotch, holding up her hands to make her point. He looked somewhat surprised at her command, but did as she said, and she went to work, knocking on the wall along each shelf. It had almost gotten too high for her to reach when a hollow knock could be heard.

She ran her fingers along the edges, searching for a lip or hinge that might open up to the other side. The top board seemed weakest, so she dug her nails into the top and yanked it free. With that one out of the way, the two below it were far easier to pull the nails from the wall and Hotch was quick to step in front of her and assess the items he’d hidden.

There was a tangle of belts, a stack of black, hardcover books, and a metal container, colored brightly, like an old music box.

Hotch went for this, pulling it down from the shelf and opening it carefully. While he did this, Lydia looked over the books. Each one was labeled with a name, but the horrifying bit was the amount that he had collected.

The team had assumed that he picked his victims one at a time, did his research, then killed them, but he had so many families hidden here. Lydia wondered how long he might have been stalking these people without their knowledge, but Hotch brought the box to her attention.

She turned and felt sick. The container he was holding had eight wedding rings in it, all masculine. She flipped around to look at the journals again and was overwhelmed by the realization that these weren’t families he was stalking, he’d already killed them.

He’d been doing this for far longer than they’d suspected.

“Congrats,” Hotch said. It was the first time he’d spoken to her since she got there. “You just solved your first case.”

[dreamonhunters]

dyin’ ain’t so bad, not if you both go together

tw // major character death, graphic depictions of violence, guns, blood, references to drugs

yet another birthday present!! happy birthday to @aw-jus-let-em-try ! rizz i love you so damn much and i’m so grateful to call you my friend!! ♡ i do hope you enjoy immortal javid as much as i think you will 🥺

read it here on ao3!

Jack Kelly died when he was twelve years old.

And again, when he was thirteen.

There’s a tombstone that says he died when he was fourteen, again at sixteen, eighteen, nineteen, and the one on his twenty-first birthday that he doesn’t talk about because alcohol poisoning isn’t a very cool way to go.

Different names, of course. He’s many things, but stupid isn’t one of them.

There’s more. Jack remembers each and every last one of them, vivid technicolour in his mind. Some of them are lost to time now, forgotten and unrecorded. Never been one to keep his legal documents in order.

He’s twenty-two now, and the tally on his chest — emblazoned on the soft flesh over his heart, dark against tan skin — says he’s died twenty-seven times.

He’s lived more lives than years.

Fingertips graze over those dark lines. A blessing and a curse. Jack Kelly is unbreakable, because his life isn’t so fragile. You fear nothing and nobody when you can’t be destroyed, when the light behind your eyes can never be extinguished.

He hears shifting beside him, and his eyes flicker over to the bed. Expensive sheets cover a man’s sleeping form, curled on his side, one arm resting beneath his head. Softly illuminated by the rising sun, filtering through the cracks in the blinds.

David is beautiful when he sleeps.

Jack lets out a soft sigh, allowing the fabric of his shirt to drop back down. Turns to watch his lover sleep, a small smile tugging the corners of his mouth upwards. He’s a lucky, lucky man, truly. People like David Jacobs don’t fall for Jack Kelly. But neither of them should exist, because they both died a long time ago, and so Jack doesn’t look at the improbability of it anymore.

“Mornin’, sunshine,” he murmurs. Davey mumbles something unintelligible, rolling over onto his back. “C’mon, we got work to do.”

“What time is it?” Davey asks, voice still thick with sleep. Blinks blearily up at the ceiling, letting his eyes adjust to the change in light.

“Half seven,” Jack answers, without glancing at the clock on the wall. Doesn’t need to, because he wouldn’t get up any earlier than that without six alarms and a strong cup of coffee. “Think Finch an’ Albert are up. Heard ‘em bickering.”

“Unsurprising.”

He laughs, turning to lean against the wall. Davey rolls back onto his side, and that little smile lights up Jack’s world. Reminds him why he fell in love with this man all over again.

“You’re so fuckin’ gorgeous,” Jack murmurs.

He laughs, shaking his head. “No need to flatter me, Jackie. I’m getting up.”

“Not flatterin’. Admiring.”

Davey pushes himself upright, stretching his arms. Arches his back until Jack hears that satisfying crack, the type you get from a good stretch. “You’re sweet.”

“Don’t you know it, sugar,” he murmurs, moving across the room to press a soft kiss to Davey’s lips. “C’mon. Up an’ at ‘em. We got a deal to close.”

Davey’s laughter fills Jack’s ears as he waltzes out of the room, rolling his shoulders back. Shoots a tired-looking Racetrack his trademark grin as he passes. Albert and Finch are still bickering in the kitchen, although they both look a little more animated now. Romeo’s head rests on the table, a glass of orange juice long forgotten beside him.

“Mornin’, lads,” Jack greets. Uncharacteristically cheerful for this time of morning, but he chooses to ignore that minor detail.

“Mornin’, boss,” Albert drawls, mimicking Jack’s tone in the most obnoxious manner possible. “Didn’t think you were gonna make it.”

“I ain’t that lazy, Al,” Jack deflects. “Gimme a break.”

“You want coffee?” Finch offers, placing his own mug back on the counter.

“You already know I do.”

“I don’t think Jack can function without his coffee,” Davey’s voice chimes in, and Jack turns to see his lover standing in the doorway. Leaning against the frame, small smirk tugging at his lips. Cocky. A quiet challenge, just between the two of them. The top of his shirt hangs open, unbuttoned. Unusual for Davey, but more than appreciated.

“Good mornin’ to you too, David,” he drawls playfully, turning back to smile at his boys. “What’s got you lot up so early?”

Finch groans, sliding a cup of coffee across to Jack. “Ask me after.”

“Someone’s cheerful,” Albert comments, earning himself a sharp jab to the ribs.

“Racer had another stupid idea,” Louis mumbles, somehow managing to avoid eye contact with anyone as he enters the room. As he always does. “And you know he isn’t gonna just give up on it.”

Jack simply laughs, sits himself down beside Romeo. “Rise an’ shine, Juliet,” he teases, nudging the boy’s shoulder. He stirs, grumbling something under his breath. Still doesn’t lift his head.

“We’ll be out most of the day,” Davey adds coolly, retrieving the milk. “Got a deal to close.”

“Anything important?” Finch asks, head inclined slightly towards Davey as he rejoins Albert at the table.

Jack shakes his head, jaw cracking as he yawns. “Nah. These guys ain’t regulars. That’s why I want more money off ‘em.”

“And you think tha’s gonna work?” Albert questions.

“You know me,” Jack smirks. “I don’t take no for an answer.”

“And we don’t have long,” Davey reminds.

“That we don’t,” he agrees, draining his cup. “Laters, boys. Don’t burn the house down.”

“So keep Race away from the toaster? Got it,” Albert teases, earning himself a dark glare from the blond.

He follows Davey out of the kitchen, and maybe he’s lagging behind just a little to admire his lover. Not that he’d admit to that.

Davey and Jack have always made a good pair. Maybe has a little something to do with the fact they slept together on their second meeting, but Jack likes to gloss over that fact. It’s not the most romantic story, but it suits them, he thinks. Jack was never one to beat around the bush.

“You sure we shouldn’t bring Racer along?” Davey asks, voice betraying just the slightest hint of anxiety. They’re in the garage now, with Jack making a beeline towards his preferred vehicle. “He’s the talker.”

“Nah. I got this, Dave, don’t worry ‘bout it. You know I got a way with words, an’ you’re not exactly quiet.”

He doesn’t have an answer for that. Doesn’t really require an answer, really, because Jack’s right, and they both know it. They’re equally as competent, and sometimes it’s nice to have something for just the two of them.

They don’t talk while they drive. Jack doesn’t have anything to say, and Davey doesn’t like to be disturbed when he’s at the wheel. A quiet hour to prepare themselves, mentally and physically.

Jack fiddles with his glock. Flicks the safety on and off, that soft clicking a small distraction for his mind. Davey would complain if he weren’t so focused. Occasionally, he’ll hum quietly to himself, break the silence for a few fleeting moments, and it’s nice. Pleasant. Comfortable.

Davey pulls up a few blocks away, rests his arms on the steering wheel. Jack knows that expression. Steeling himself.

“You ready?” Jack asks softly, leaning over to press a light kiss to Davey’s cheekbone.

“Mm,” he answers, not meeting Jack’s eyes. He needs these moments. It’s a little harder for Davey to create that mental separation.

They stay there for a short while longer, listening to the other’s breathing. Jack waits for Davey to unbuckle his seatbelt and pop his door open, taking another deep breath as he steps out. And he follows his lover’s lead, tucking the glock into his waistband. Insurance, more than anything.

Davey’s by his side in an instant, the back of his hand brushing against Jack’s. He resists the urge to intertwine their fingers, just for those few fleeting moments, because he doesn’t quite need that physical reassurance anymore.

You can’t hurt Jack Kelly, and you can’t hurt David Jacobs, because every time they come right back. Death has no permanence. Blink, and they’re awake, side by side, gasping for that first breath all over again. A blessing and a curse.

Jack’s fingertips trace the tally on the inside of his lover’s wrist, a feather light touch. Davey isn’t so laidback, however. He explains his fears quietly, when it's just the two of them in a darkened room, bodies pressed against each other. Every death marks one closer to the end for him. A fear that one day this little performance will come to a horrifying close, and suddenly the fragility of life will become all too real. There has to be a limit to their immortality, he insists, even if Jack disagrees. Just how far can they push it?

His head turns, steely blue eyes meeting deep brown. “Be safe, Jackie,” Davey murmurs, eyes filled with a concern most people wouldn’t quite understand. When you don’t quite fear death, your biggest fear is loneliness, Jack realises.

“Don’t gotta tell me twice.”

A modern office building towers above them, morning sunlight reflecting off the large glass front.

“Little bit more than I expected,” Davey murmurs, and Jack shrugs. Punches a code into a small keypad, buttons glowing blue beneath his fingertips. Not a single smudge on those glass double doors.

“Hey, they’re payin’ us good money. I just want a little more, y’know?”

“As always,” Davey sighs, with that faux irritance that Jack knows and loves.

A voice crackles over the little intercom, a female voice. “Who’s here?”

“Jack Kelly and David Jacobs, here to see Mr. Pulitzer?” Jack asks, that usual drawl disappearing from his voice. He means business.

There’s a soft click. The doors slide open, and the pair step into a modern lounge area. “Floor twenty-seven,” Jack murmurs, shoes clicking against the polished marble floor. Nobody else around, no other sounds.

Davey doesn’t speak, follows Jack into the elevator silently, leans against the cool metal railing as they ascend. His brow pinches together with a silent anxiety. Gets like this every time. The doors slide open.

“Kelly. Jacobs. Good to see you again,” a smooth voice greets. Pulitzer is a tall man, greasy hair that’s greying at the roots and bright blue eyes that crease up a little when he smiles.

“You too,” Jack smiles, lips pulled into a tight grin. False, a little too strained around the edges, but only Davey would pick up on that. “This ain’t gonna take long.”

“I’m sure it won’t,” Pulitzer mutters, turning on his heel. Leads them towards a door, right down the far end of the hallway. Too polished and perfect. Their footsteps echo as they walk. Holds it open for them. Davey shoots him a small smile as Jack sits down.

“So,” Jack drawls, leaning forward. Long arms cross on the edge of Pulitzer’s desk, one hand coming to rest under his chin. “I got bad news. We’re gonna have to up rates, ‘cause suppliers are screwin’ me over.”

“Is that so?” he asks, leaning back in his seat. Davey’s fingers hover over his own gun, just a little anxiety settling in his gut. “Who supplies you, may I ask?”

“Smaller cartel across town. The Delanceys.”

“Interesting.”

Pulitzer drums his fingertips on the desk rhythmically. A dim sound, and somehow it echoes in Jack’s brain. He shifts uncomfortably in his seat, hyperaware of the way his clothes feel against his skin, the weight of the gun on his hip, the gentle sound of Davey’s breathing somewhere close behind.

“How so?”

There’s tension in Jack’s shoulders. Something in Pulitzer’s expression just doesn’t sit quite right with him.

“I just so happen to know a certain Morris Delancey. And I just so happen to know he hasn’t changed his prices in four years.”

Shit.

There’s a predatory grin on Pulitzer’s face, toothy and shark-like. Jack doesn’t like it one bit. Can’t think of a way to talk himself out of this one, and Davey isn’t forthcoming. He’s a deer trapped in the headlights, waiting for Pulitzer to finish him off.

His brain doesn’t quite register the gun, or the shot that fires off, or the smell of smoke that fills the room. Dimly, he registers the sound of a body hitting the ground, and he already knows it’s Davey. Doesn’t have time to react, because his vision is hazy as a second bullet pierces his own skull.

There’s a sudden moment of peace. The darkness envelopes him, like an old friend, a comforting embrace. Fleeting.

And then there’s agonising pain, splitting his skull straight down the middle. Because recovering from death isn’t a painless process, of course not. There has to be some kind of drawback to immortality. Every single time, your body has to rebuild what is broken from the inside out, bring itself back from the end, and that’s no easy feat.

Maybe that’s why Davey’s so afraid it’ll all be over one day. That there’s a limit, and one day his body will give out, unable to muster the strength to rebuild itself once again.

Jack isn’t so sure.

When his eyes reopen, he feels concrete beneath his fingertips. Gunpowder on his tongue, blood stuck between his teeth. Coppery. Licks his lips, sore and cracked. Darkened sky, the few stars you can see despite the city lights glinting overhead. Distantly, he can hear cars, somewhere far below. A rooftop.

How fitting.

He’s alive, all over again, and he lays there for a few quiet moments. Feels the way his chest rises and falls with each breath, how he can move each finger independently. The ground is scratchy against his skin.

Davey’s there, and he sits up a little too fast. Chest heaving, eyes wild. Some things never change.

“Hey, calm down,” Jack murmurs, slowly easing himself up. “You’re fine. We’re fine. It’s good.”

“This time,” Davey whispers, voice cracking just a little on the second syllable. “This time, Jackie.”

“An’ that’s what matters, ain’t it? This time? I don’t give a damn about next time, ‘cause it ain’t happened yet.”

Davey shakes his head, still trembling. “I don’t know how we live like this.”

“‘Cause if there is a limit, we ain’t gonna find it by standin’ still,” he answers. “C’mon. You’re gettin’ yourself all worked up over nothin’. We’re alive, Dave. Who gives a shit about this ‘limit’?”

“I do.”

Jack sighs, moves his hand to rest on top of Davey’s. Familiar touch. Smooth skin beneath calloused palms, worn rough from years of firefights and underhanded tactics.

“Let it go, Davey. We’re okay.”

“This time.”

“Sure, this time. An’ all the times before.”

Davey’s still shaking. Slowly, carefully, Jack pulls him a little closer. Intertwines their fingers. Matching gold bands gleam in the streetlights.

“You still got me, ain’t ya? And I ain’t goin’ nowhere without you,” Jack reassures. There’s a smile on his face. A different look, softer behind the eyes. Silent promise, just between the two of them. “I love you, David.”

“I love you too,” he replies. Breathy. Eyes still wide with shock, heart still racing. It’ll take a while for him to calm down, back to that trademark neutrality Davey’s better known for.

Jack lays back down. The concrete isn’t comfortable, but he doesn’t really feel like walking back. They could be miles away, for all he knows. Dark eyes fix on the stars, lips twisting upwards. Innate comfort. A ghost of a smile.

“Sleep here tonight, Dave. They ain’t gonna miss us.”

He silently shifts closer, rests his head on Jack’s chest, lets his lover hold him close. There’s no words. Doesn’t need to be, because they understand each other perfectly without the need for words. Davey drifts off first, exhausted from the whole ordeal. And Jack feels him breathe, feels his heartbeat, feels the warmth of his skin. Calm.

He’s alive, and real, and in a strange way it feels like he’s never been alive at all.

Jack has died twenty-eight times. Davey’s on fourteen.

One more strike over his heart.

[gashinabts]

Why we broke up (2) (m)

Words: 5k

Paring: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Angst, Smut, Fluff

Summary: “ I know you’ll be a loving mother and a perfect wife, I can just see it in you,” you started sobbing loudly and he wrapped his arms around you for the very last time.

Warning: depression, mention of abortion, sex, slut calling in bed, and so much crying

a/n: Please read the warnings, it can be very triggering.  This is the final part!! I really enjoyed writing this fic, I hope you guys enjoyed reading it too. Please compliment me and tell me what you think, I’m low key a praise whore. :3

Part 1

Jungkook feels like an idiot when he is waiting outside your front lawn waiting for his Uber driver, he feels even more of an idiot when he tries to hide his hard on. He really didn’t expect this, hugging you, kissing you, and touching you. Nevertheless, he enjoyed it since it’s been such a long time he has felt loved, and most importantly it was by you. His Uber arrives and he turns one last time to look at your house, hoping this isn’t the last time he’ll see it.

You rush upstairs to your son's bedroom, while he’s laying in his bed with The Bunny on the Moon in his hands. “Why aren’t you sleeping Eunwoo it’s really late,” you sit beside him, touching his soft hair. “ Mommy, I did fall asleep but then I woke up as soon as I remembered that you forgot to read to me!” You laugh at his response and grab the book, “You want me to read this to you baby?,” he eagerly nods and you start reading. He falls asleep before the book ends and you kiss him softly goodnight on his chubby cheek.

God, tonight was eventful, you decide to take a shower to wash all the tear stains on your face. The hot water hits your body just right and now you can’t stop thinking of Jungkook. When was the last time you had been intimate with a man? Is that why you desperately wanted him to take you on the table. But with Jungkook it was always like that, always wanting him in every way. You start thinking about his hands touching you and his lips kissing you everywhere. Okay, that’s enough you aren’t going to touch yourself thinking about him. 

Now your laying in bed contemplating of texting him, your phone in your hand typing his number effortlessly but then you stop. He probably doesn’t have the same number, and what if he ignores your text like he did many years ago. You should just wait till he text you, you don’t want your feelings getting hurt again. That night you go to sleep with Jungkook on your mind.

Jungkook lays in bed thinking of you, should he text you tonight or tomorrow morning. He remembers when you would always fall asleep early when you guys were together. The next morning Jungkook wakes up extra early shooting you a text.

[Jungkook] Hope you had a good night's sleep! I was wondering if you wanted to hangout today or whenever.

[Jungkook] it’s jungkook by the way

You woke up to the sound of your phone pinging, who the hell wakes up this early. You look at your phone it’s 5:15 am, you look at the bright screen to see Jungkook has message you, now you’re wide awake.

[Y/N] I can't do today or Monday but I’m free Tuesday since I don’t have work

[Y/N] and jungkook don’t text me so early

[Jungkook] yeah that sounds good, I can’t wait to see you.

[Jungkook] sorryyy, I’ll let you get your sleep :p

It’s Tuesday morning and you feel anxious, so anxious you accidentally spill orange juice on Eunwoo’s pants. “Oh baby, I’m sorry, Mommy is all over the place,” you quickly grab a napkin cleaning his pants. You drop Eunwoo off at school, giving him multiple kisses goodbyes.

Jungkook sent you an address to where to meet at, you get out of your car and enter the restaurant looking around for him.

“Y/N over here! You look nice, where’s Eunwoo?,” he stands up from his seat and he goes for hug but stops himself.

“ Thank you, and he’s at school,” you grabbed him by the arm and hug him. His arms are stiffly by his sides but then he relaxes and puts his arms around your waist. You pull apart and sit right across from him. The waitress comes and you both order kimchi jjigae.

“ Y/N, so what have you been up to? Sorry for asking this question so late,” he tilts his head to the side.

“ It’s fine, but I have just been working for the SAC, as head architect, it’s a lot of hard work, but then again I only work three days a week,” you reply while twirling your straw in your drink.

“ Ohh wow... that’s amazing, you always wanted to work for that company. How long have you been working there?”

“ Mmm...let me think, Eunwoo is six...so for like seven years,” the waitress arrives with the food and places them right in front you. “ Be careful it's hot, make sure to blow on it,” you immediately warn as if he was Eunwoo. Jungkook thinks its cute that you said this to him, he likes it when you act on your mother instincts. He starts to think about Eunwoo and how it must've been hard to raise him by yourself, now that he thinks about it, he doesn’t know anything about Eunwoo’s father. He gets angry at the idea of someone abandoning you and Eunwoo.

“ Mmm, it taste so good. Is it too spicy for you Jungkook, you aren’t eating much. I can ask the waiter to give you a new one,” he looks pensive the whole time, your about to call the waiter but then he stops you.

“ Y/N, who is Eunwoo’s father?” The question takes you by surprise, you never liked talking about this to people because by the end of the conversation people start to sympathize with you. You place your spoon to the side, and look outside the window, it’s pretty outside the flowers are blooming and it’s sunny. You don’t want to look into Jungkook's eyes because you know for a fact you’ll start crying.

“ I always wanted a child, to feel a baby grow inside my stomach, to give birth, to breastfeed a baby until it’s content. I just always wanted to be a mother. I love Eunwoo with all my heart, when I carried him in my arms for the very first time, I felt this eternal love. I wanted to protect him from this unfair world, I wanted him to feel love, and I wanted him to always be happy. I felt like a mother–,” you turn your face away from the window and look at Jungkook, “ I adopted Eunwoo.” He looks lost for words, it looks like he wants to ask why. “ I could never have children, I’m infertile.” You look away from him and call the waitress for more rice. “ This is one of the best kimchi jjigae I ever had. How’d you find about this restaurant, Jungkook?” You try to switch the conversation praying that he doesn't ask anymore questions.

Jungkook feels horribly sick, he can taste the bile on his taste buds, his hands feel clammy too. He knows the answer of the question he is about to ask you but he wants to hear you say it.

“ Y/N, when did you find out you were infertile.”

You don’t want to answer that question, you avoid his eyes, and start putting rice in the kimchi jjigae and eating it.

“ Y/N,” he warns.

You stop eating and start staring at the soup, “ It doesn’t matter, it’s in the past.”

“ Just answer the question.”

It physically painful saying it out loud but you say it anyways quietly, “ The day we broke up.”

Ten years ago

You both are laying in bed, Jungkook playing on his phone and you just looking at the ceiling.

“ Baby, would you still be with me if stained all of your favorite white shirts?” You turn to your side face him, he puts his phone down and does the same.

“ Hmm... yes. I could always buy new white shirts but you’ll have to compensate me,” he jokes teasingly.

“ Would you still be with me if I killed someone?”

“ Yes, I’ll even help you hide the body. But you wouldn’t kill somebody, you wouldn’t even let me kill that spider in the kitchen,” he tucks some of the hair that has fallen behind your ear.

“ So you’ll be with me no matter what?” You smile brightly at him, bringing him closer to you.

“ Mmm, no matter what baby,” he says it onto your lips and goes on top of you.

“Fuck—ahh please don’t stop,” you mercilessly plead. He keeps fucking into you while you scratch his back He groans against your ear, his cock stretching you so well.

“ You like when you can feel me this deep? You want to feel this cock forever slut,” while he goes even harder. You can’t think of anything else, you want to answer a million times yes, but all you can do is moan.

He pulls out his cock and you cry, begging him to take you back inside. “ Shhh, you’ll get it. Turn around baby.” You whimper and turn around onto your stomach, face in the sheets, and he spreads your legs. He teasingly rubs his cock against your pussy, “ Mmm your such a slut begging to be fucked and filled. Do you want that?,” he asked you and you nod yes. “ No, I won’t give it to you until you answer me,” he slaps his cock against your pussy.

“ Please fuck me, I need you to feel me up!”

Then you feel him roughly shove his cock in and you feel so good, the pain and pleasure have you moaning uncontrollably.

Your hands grab the sheets tightly and your eyes are rolling back as he fucks you more deeply.

“ Jungkook, can I please come. I’ve been so good for you!” You need to feel your release, your pussy is throbbing, and you want to be overwhelmed with ecstasy.

“ You have been so good for me, you did let me fuck your throat like a dirty slut and it felt really good.” You nod as an agreement, your toes curling a little bit. “ Come for me baby.”

Then you feel yourself spasm with delight, moaning his name over and over again. Your panting loudly and Jungkook keeps thrusting,” I’m gonna fill you up with my come until you can never forget what it feels like,” he whispers in your ears.

You moan as he comes deep inside you, calling your name out like a prayer. You feel him everywhere and you smile at the feeling , you could bask in this feeling forever with him.

He tells you praises in your ear and lightly massages your hips. He pulls out and turns you around, placing one last soft kiss on your lips. He lays beside you, you can’t stop thinking of the answers he gave you before he fucked you. No matter what happens he’ll stay by your side, you smile to yourself.

“ Jungkook, I’m pregnant.” You finally say the thing that’s been on your mind all day. You finally turn to your side to look at him but he gets up quickly. The afterglow he had looked gone and he was blankly staring at you.

“Why are you pregnant?” He finally breaks the silence looking seriously at you.

“ Jungkook, we have unprotected sex sometimes. Things like this happen when you do that.”

“ Y/N, I can’t do this.” You were getting more nervous each time he replies.

“ What do you mean? What have a child with me? You’d say you’ll stay with me no matter what.” Your eyes were tearing up but you hold it in, maybe he’ll come to realization that he wants to have a baby with you.

“ Are you serious, those were hypothetical questions Y/N. I can’t do this, I can’t have a child right now, I’m an idol constantly traveling, I have a future.” Does he’s future not involve you? You try to think of something to make him stay and you know your going to hurt yourself on what your about to say next.

“ Jungkook, I’ll go to the clinic and get an abortion. And then we can pretend this never happened, okay? Then maybe in the future, when it’s just right, we can have a family. Just please stay with me,” your pleading to him, you’ll take the one thing away that you have always wanted to make him stay.

“ Y/N, the pregnancy test is not always 100% accurate, right? Maybe your not pregnant. Go to the hospital tomorrow morning and check. I can’t be here right now.” You watch him from the bed as he starts dressing, he looks at you one last time and leaves. That was the first time in forever he didn’t give you a goodbye kiss. You still feel his come dripping down and you start to sob.

You enter the doctors office, staring at the anatomical posters of pregnant women. You tell Dr. Soo that you took a pregnancy test yesterday and it came out positive and you missed your period. She does a couple test,

“ Y/N, you are not pregnant.” You are confused, you were late on your period. Dr. Soo places her hand against your arm gently. “ The results of the test come out as infertility. You have an irregular menstrual cycle, it’s part of the sign.” You feel hopeless everything around you feels dark, you can’t do the one thing that every woman can do. “  This isn’t uncommon, there are therapist sessions here at the hospital. I know this can be hard on a woman. Also, there alternatives having children, a mother isn’t someone who gives birth to her child, it’s someone who’ll raise their child with unconditional love.

You enter Jungkook’s apartment after visiting the hospital, he’s standing by the table while your sitting down on the chair,

“ So what happened?” You swallow to ease your dry throat and play with your fingers.

“ You were right it wasn’t 100% accurate, I’m not pregnant. I actually can’t–,” then your interrupted with Jungkook’s excited voice. “That’s amazing, one of the best news I ever receive! I wasn’t ready to end my future. Me with a child, ha no way,” he shakes his in disbelief and it hurts you the way he said ‘that’s amazing’.

“ Jungkook, does this mean we’re still together, that your staying with me?” You feel depressed but you give him a hopeful smile.

“ I actually wanted to talk about that with you, I think we both want very different things–no we do want very different things. I don’t see myself in the future married and having kids, not with you or anyone. And I know you always wanted that, you told me that the fourth year we were dating. I know you’ll be a loving mother and a perfect wife, I can just see it in you,” you started sobbing loudly and he wrapped his arms around you for the very last time.

Present

You bring your palm up and rest it under your chin, “ What are you thinking about Jungkook?” His eyes are red and watery, “ I’m thinking about you from ten years ago.” You hum and continue to eat, “ There’s nothing we can do about it now, it was ten years ago,” you finally say.

Jungkook wants to sell his soul off right now in return for making you feel no pain ever. He looks at you and wonders how are you still talking to him. How did you even let him touch you at Eunwoo’s party. “ I don’t care if it's in the past, I put you through so much pain. I was fucking ecstatic when you told me you weren’t pregnant. And then I broke up with you after you found out you were infertile, you went through this alone, I left you alone.” He looks at you and your just looking at him cry with sad eyes. “ I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry... you should’ve fucking kicked me out when I came to your house, spit at me, and curse at me,” he cries out.

“ You wanted me to do that at my son’s birthday party? That would’ve been a memorable birthday for him,” you joke trying to lighten the mood, but he doesn’t stop crying. You muttered a quick, ‘ I’ll be back,’ and pay for the bill at the counter.

“ Jungkook let’s get out of here, people are starting to wonder how I made a very pretty boy cry,” he hiccups a little laugh and you grab his hand taking him to the back seat of your car. He’s still crying and you know he’s trying to stop but it comes in little gasp, you’ve seen this with Eunwoo when he gets really hurt or when you scold him for doing something really bad. So you do the only thing that makes Eunwoo stop crying to Jungkook.

So you cradle his face in your hands, and wiping the tears streaming down with your thumbs. “Why is my baby crying, hmmm, who made my baby cry? You're too pretty to cry.” You kiss his forehead and bring one of your hands to caress his hair, “ Shhh, baby don’t cry, it makes me sad when I see you cry.” You kiss both of his cheeks this time, “Baby do you want me to be sad?,” and he shakes his head. “Then can you calm down for me baby, can you be good for me?,” he still crying a little so you lay him against your breast and he’s nuzzling into it, you can feel his wet face seep into your shirt. You wrap your arms around his back rocking him gently. He stops crying after ten minutes of coaxing but it is still in this position, you check the time on your phone.

“Hey Jungkook,” you whisper to him and he nuzzles more into your breast. “ I need to pick up Eunwoo,” he gets up from you and you take a good look of his puffy face, he looks like a small boy. You push some of the strands of his hair that were sticking up downwards, “Did you take your car here, Jungkook? If not I can take you home but it’s gonna be after we pick up Eunwoo.” He finally speaks but it comes out hoarse, “ Mmm please, I walked over here. I don’t want to be walking home looking like this.” You laugh a little and move to the front seats.

The radio is on but it’s low enough so you guys can talk. Jungkook keeps muttering how ugly he looks while staring at his phone camera. “ There’s wet wipes in my glove compartment, wipe your face. There’s stain tears on your face.” He follows your instructions, and is now looking at you drive.   “ Y/N, I want to say sorry.”

“ It’s fine, Eunwoo used to cry on me a lot so I’m used to having snot and tears on my shirt,” you smile thinking about how your baby boy was so needy.

“ No, that’s not what I mean, I’m sorry for what I did to you on the day we broke up,” he chews his lip while still looking at you.

You want to look at him but you are driving, “ I’ll admit it was painful that day, it hurts when the man you love doesn't want a future with you. Everything reminded me of you, and I didn't know if I loved it or hated it. I remember feeling so hopeless, everything around me felt so colorless, but it doesn’t feel like that anymore. Once, I heard you singing on the radio it made me move on, that you and I do want different things. Then I had Eunwoo, none of the past mattered to me, what mattered was the future with him,” you park your car right in front of Eunwoo’s school. You turn to look at Jungkook, who’s just staring at you, and you give him a kiss on the cheek, “ I’ll be back,” as you leave the car.

Jungkook watches you leave and enter the school building. He’s mind is filled with thoughts, he admires the way you effortlessly speak your mind and how they are filled with acceptance and comfort. But does he still want different things from you? When he first saw you that day at the park, he thought that fate gave him a second chance and when he saw Eunwoo smiling at the presents he gave him, Jungkook knew he wanted to see that smile everyday. He wants to be in yours and Eunwoo’s future, but he is not so sure if you’ll accept him, afterall he did say he didn’t want a future with you in the past. His thoughts are interrupted when he sees you carrying Eunwoo and peppering kisses all over his face as your walking towards the car. Eunwoo’s giggling uncontrollably, Jungkook feels happy looking at the scene, he laughs knowing that Eunwoo will be a Momma’s boy.

You open the car door for Eunwoo, he gets in and lets out a surprised gasp, “ Mr. Jungkook! What are you doing here, wheres Tree!” He looks around excitedly to see if the Shiba Inu will jump out and surprise him. You start the car and drive, “ I’m sorry its just me, Tree is at home. Your Mom and I went to eat lunch.” Jungkook gives Eunwoo a sheepish smile, “ Aww when can I see Tree again?,” as he starts pouting. “ Whenever you want, I know Tree misses you too.” You think its cute seeing them talk together,  “What did you and Mommy eat?”

“ Kimchi jjigae.”

“ No fair! That’s my favorite, why couldn’t you and Mommy wait for me?,” he’s whining and pouting. Jungkook laughs and promises he’ll take him next time, and that he’ll even bring Tree too.

You drop Jungkook at his apartment and tell him that you’ll see him soon. On the way back to your house Eunwoo won’t stop asking questions about Jungkook to you, like what’s his favorite color, or his favorite food. You know all the answers to his questions so you answer him honestly. You enter your house and tell Eunwoo to wash up as you make dinner.

Eunwoo is eating contently, humming while eating, and you clean around the kitchen.

“ Eunwoo, do you like Jungkook?,” you ask clearly.

Eunwoo happily nods, “ Yes Mommy he is very nice and he looks like a bunny.”

You laugh loudly, “ A bunny? What makes him look like a bunny?”.

“ It’s because he has long fluffy hair, and when he smiles he looks like one!”

You start seeing Jungkook more often, he takes you out for lunch on the days your off of work. It’s never awkward or silent when you guys hangout, your always making him laugh and vice versa. He asks if you and Eunwoo can have dinner with him, and he talks with Eunwoo the whole time while you fondly stare at him.

You don’t know what the label of the relationship is, sometimes he’ll hold your hands or rest his hand on your thigh, and sometimes you’ll kiss him on his cheeks or hug him from behind. Jungkook gets closer to your son too, on Saturday mornings he’ll take Tree and Eunwoo to the park, while you sleep in. It goes like this for eight months and you enjoy it.

One day you were cooking dinner for Eunwoo and Jungkook, Eunwoo was in the backyard playing with Tree, while Jungkook was helping you cook.

“ Y/N, I want a future with you, I want to be in Eunwoo’s future too,” he confesses to you. You stop cutting the vegetables and look at him, he’s giving you the most loving look, “ I want that too,” you confess before placing a kiss on his lips.

Jungkook spends the night in your house, just holding each other and placing soft kisses. The next morning you get out of Jungkook’s arms and make Eunwoo breakfast, and take him to school. You go to clean up the mess you made and wash the dishes. Then you feel him hug you from the back, burying his face in your neck. “ Why didn’t you wake me up to help you?” You shake your head no, “It’s okay, I’m finished,”  you turn of the faucet and leaned back against his chest. Time slows when your in his arms, you feel relaxed. You feel his hands go under your shirt, lightly touching your stomach, he starts kissing your neck, lightly sucking here and there. His hands go high up to your breast, touching lightly under the swell of it and then brings it back down to your stomach.

Your getting antsy, you want him to touch you more, so you grab both of his hands and place them on your breast. You hear him groan into your neck, he rubs your breast and then pinching your nipples. “ Jungkook—,” you moan while your hands go behind you and grab his nape. He gets the message and kisses you from the side messily, continues to touch your breast. “ Mmm, baby I’m so wet,” you breath the words into his mouth. “Fuck, your so beautiful,” he replies and turns you around to face him. “ Y/N can I take off your pants?,” fingers tapping the button of the jeans. “ Yes please.” He unbuttons it and pulls your jeans down. You step out of them and you take off your shirt, now your just only in your panties. Jungkook gets a good look at you and crashes his lips on you, the kiss is filthy but you love it. He lifts you up, still kissing you, and carries you to the bedroom.

He lays you gently on the bed, leaving open kisses on your breasts moving downwards to your stomach, he leaves one last kiss above your panties, and then pulls down you panties. “ You are so wet, and it’s all for me” he traces his finger against your pussy. “ Ahh—just fucking fuck me. I need you right now,” you sit up and pull his shirt off, and he takes off his sweatpants and boxers.

You lay back as he hovers you, you grab his hard cock pumping it up and down in your hands. He starts groaning in your ear, “ Jungkook, do you have a condom?” He springs up from your neck and looks surprised, “ No...I don’t have one on me but I’m clean I haven’t had sex with anyone since that day in the park.” You don’t want him to fuck you raw because that means he won’t pull out since he’ll get lost in the feeling. You shake your head, “ I don’t know…can you not come in me?” Jungkook smiles and nods eagerly, “ Trust me, I’ll pull out right before I come.” He puts his cock inside you, and moans your name loudly. You feel him stretching you and it feels painful, it's been many years since you had sex with a man. “ Tell me when to start moving baby,” he places soft kisses against your face to ease the pain. You tell him to start moving and it starts to feel more pleasurable for you. He’s hitting it just right, and your hands start holding tight around his arms, “ Fucking hell babe, your so tight. It feel so good.” He kisses you and you try your best to return the kiss but you can’t stop moaning with pleasure. “ Jungkook, I’ll always be tight for you, only for you,” and he fucking loses it when you say this to him, he starts thrusting faster and deeper.  One of his hands goes to your pussy rubbing your clit, and you can’t hold it any more. “ Come for me Y/N, be a good girl and come.” Everything goes white and you moan his name loudly, hands grabbing any part of him, pulling him closer to you. “God… your so fucking hot when you come. Did it feel good for you baby?” You feel delirious and nod your head, “ Baby, don’t forget to pull out.” He moans an okay, and keeps thrusting into you deeply, you can tell he is about to come, his abs are contracting and is pounding harder, you call his name multiple times, you try to warn him but it all sounds like moans to him. His eyes are closed and he looks lost at the feeling. “ Y/N, I love you. I love you so much,” he says as he comes right inside you.

He lays on top of your body breathing deeply into your neck, you can’t stop thinking of the come that’s inside you, your disgusted of the feeling of it. You don’t say anything, you push him off of you, you can feel the come drip out of you as you walk into the shower. You try to wash it out but you can still fill it, and then you start crying. You start to get that vivid memory, of Jungkook leaving you with come inside of you.

“ Fuck, I’m so stupid,” Jungkook shouldn’t have fucked you bare, he should’ve just ate you out when you were hesitant of having sex without a condom. He didn’t think you would push him off though, he remembered when you guys were younger, you would let him come inside you many times, saying how you love the feeling. He gets up from the bed and walks to the bathroom.

You hear Jungkook’s footsteps and you stop crying, hoping he didn’t hear you. He enters the bathroom standing behind the shower glass, he lightly taps it, “ Y/N, I’m sorry. I told you to trust me but I ended up doing the opposite. It hurts me to see you unhappy, and it hurts even more when I’m the cause of it,” You can’t see him clearly because of the steam and the water droplets from the shower, but you tap your finger lightly against the glass. “ Tap twice if you want me to stay here with you, Tap once if want me to leave you in peace,” you don’t want him to leave alone you need to hear his voice, so you tap twice. “ Can you tell me what’s going on in your pretty brain? You can yell at me, I deserve it,” he leans his forehead against the glass.

“ You left me forever the last time you came in me, I don't like- the semen, it makes me feel awful. My therapist told me the reason I breakdown and feel that way, is because of that traumatic experience. It’s not just with you, I hooked up with a guy a couple years ago and he came in me, I just started sobbing-,” you let out a small laugh, “...um and he freaked out and bought me so much ice cream to calm me down.” It’s quiet for a few seconds, except for the sound of the shower. “ Y/N can I come in the shower?” You slide open the shower glass for him, letting out a small yes. He enters the shower, “ Can I hold you?” You nod your head yes and he wraps his arms around you. It feels more intimate since you are both naked, “ Y/N, I’ll castrate myself for you, I don’t need to have sex, I can just hold you like this forever. Being with you is more than enough for me.” You laugh against him, “ Please don’t do that and I don’t want you to stop having sex with me.” He brushes your wet hair out of your face and stares into your eyes, “ Baby, I know how you like the phrase ‘the past is in the past’, but I want to know more about what you’ve been through while I was gone, I want to know how your feeling. I want to be better for us.”  You kiss him gently on the lips as a small okay, and he gets out of the shower, and wrapped a towel around you.

After watching a couple movies while cuddling, you guys had to pick up Eunwoo from school. You park your car, kiss Jungkook on the cheek and was about to leave but then he stops you. “ I’ll get Eunwoo,” he kisses your cheek and walks towards the school. This is the first time he’s ever done this, and it tugs your heart a little. You hear a bark from the backseat, “ Shhh, Tree your suppose to be quiet to surprise Eunwoo,” you pat his head a little. You look towards the front and see Jungkook carrying Eunwoo giving multiple kisses on his chubby cheeks. Your baby is happily giggling with each kiss and Jungkook is staring lovingly at him.

This is your future, Eunwoo and Jungkook. ( and Tree)

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Do not repost, translate, or alternate my work in any way, onto any platform. I do not take plagiarism lightly.

[champagnecall]

OKAY I was encouraged to post this so I’m gonna <3 

This is just a pretty in detail character study of my portrayal of Hifumi following the latest drama track nobody has to read it or anything! It’s going under a read more due to content warnings for abuse mentions, depression, panic attacks, and suicidal ideation so please be careful when reading !!!

So in the latest drama track we got to see Hifumi’s abuser - who we met in a previous limited edition drama track, though wasn’t 100% confirmed to be his abuser - up close and personal. I’m going to focus mostly on the Hifumi aspects of this track - but I’ll be mentioning the other two members of Matenrō as well due to the relation they have to how Honobono got to Hifumi.

Before this track released we knew very little about how Hifumi functioned with his trauma. We know that he developed his gynophobia in high school - at the very least eleven years before the canon point in the series - and that at twenty years old he became a host to try and get over his phobia.

Becoming a host is what pushed him into creating his host persona via auto-suggestion, as it has been canonically stated that he does not have Dissociative Identity Disorder. The manga artist has drawn a panel with Hifumi’s personalities and their titles - being “Host” ( also commonly called GIGOLO off his MC Name ), “Hifumin”, and “Open Up”. But prior to this drawing, the three personalities were often just split into “Host” “Hifumin” “Phobia”.

So Hifumi has a strong motif of thirds being played into his character. His name is composed of the kanji for 1-2-3 and GIGOLO is actually a pun on that, being “Shi-gi-ro” or more simply...4-5-6. 

This is a sort of both clever and self deprecating play on Hifumi’s part. He has a lot of issues that were very subtly hinted at throughout canon up until this drama track, being that he dislikes who he is without his jacket because he views himself as weak because of his phobia. He doesn’t want to be afraid of women - he wants to interact with them freely - but he doesn’t have control over the events that traumatized him nor does he fully understand why what happened to him happened.

In this track, though, and both of the new songs on this album Hifumi is in, he outright says these things.

“When in despair there is always a desire to be saved / Black darkness and iron bars, a shortage of adrenaline / The world I see is different than what everyone else sees”

“D-Doppo.. I-It’s hopeless... I’m a weak human being.., I... I couldn’t do anything...!”

“I have a phobia that makes my mentality like that of tofu / But when I put on my suit, that of course changes it all”

“Standing aloof, dropping down to sit, even when I’m emotionally unstable / Don’t turn away, get the evidence with your words / But even though the day might be cold and I can’t lend it to you yet, / One day I’d like to gently place this suit jacket over you”

Not to mention, previous lyrics of his combined with what we have now...

“Are you going to stay by my side / Even after knowing my past? / Drunkeness arriving on champagne / Stopping your mouth / Our eyes meeting at length by chance / Can you see the real me?”

“If my spell comes undone / I won't be able to see you again”

“Sorry for being born with all this / With nervousness and panic / My heart won't stop beating fast, my kitten / It'll be fine, come here I'll be all yours until morning”

“Now, sexy girl / Smash my sense of values to pieces / 10,000,000 yen /  100,000,000 yen / 1,000,000,000 yen / 10,000,000,000 yen / I'll give you something that you can't buy with money”

“A spirit that's different from the others / Drawing eyes from all around town / But I don't do relationships / Somewhere, sometime, I want to meet you I want to take off my jacket / So we could love each other mutually / A battle with my past self / I'll end it with a victory... my sorrow”

“With my magic, I'll make your pain disappear / Don't stop the party / I'll stay like this, I won't leave you”

“No pain, no suffering, no worries / I'll make them all disappear, come closer / From heart to body to pores / I'll let you do as you like, so come here / It'll be fine, come closer / I'll envelop everything / And one day, I want to be enveloped too”

Hifumi is a character who tends to objectify himself due to his career. He speaks about people smashing away his sense of values, listing off prices people can purchase his attention for, saying that he’ll let people do whatever they want to him. He sees his host personality as someone who is better than who he is on his own - someone of a greater value, which leads into that pun with 123 being his actual name and 456 being his MC Name and the name people tend to use for his host persona.

When facing Honobono again for the first time since she initially traumatized him - he crumbles out of this persona. The personality he learned to shift into through extreme auto-suggestion as a protective mechanism breaks.

At first, Hifumi is able to hold himself together, despite being on the verge of a panic attack. It’s mentioned that he looks pale, the listener can hear his labored breathing and his hesitation, but his defensive mechanism is working...

Until the following exchange:

Honobono: I came here to see a friend, do I need a reason?

Hifumi: Were friends, if you’re mistaken. All those things you did... 

Honobono: “Those things”? What were they? They were so long ago that I can’t remember~ Ah! Now I sort of remember! But there’s so many things that I can’t grasp too well. Was it about your mother? Or about your sister’s case? Ah right, right! Or maybe even about your case at school!

It’s here Hifumi’s breathing becomes extremely labored until he actually starts screaming. It’s implied he falls over, as the sound of shattering glass alongside a thud follows his screaming all behind the sound of Honobono’s laughter.

Hifumi’s voice changes depending on the personality he’s fronting - going from “Boku” for “Host” and “Orecchi” for “Hifumin” ( more recently we discovered he very rarely uses “Ore” when he lets just his true personality “Open Up” front )

So it’s here that was a shock where Hifumi says “Boku wa...” and then immediately shifts the tone of his voice to his natural one and cries out “Orecchi wa...” signaling that for the first time we’ve ever witnessed it in canon...Hifumi’s suit failed to protect him from his phobia and his protective personality melted away, despite the suit jacket he wears in order to shift personalities still being worn by him.

Whatever Honobono did to him, his mother, and his sister - it was enough to give him a panic attack so bad that the defensive mechanism he developed and has been routinely using nine years prior to this point was broken away from him. Hifumi spends nearly the rest of the drama track - which is around 9~11 minutes - in a screaming, crying panic attack where he sounds like he’s in genuine physical pain, even as all of his pain is just psychological here.

We don’t know what she did to him in high school - and this mention of his mother and his older sister was the first time Hifumi’s family had ever been brought up. But whatever these events were, it was enough to drive him into the most severe panic attack we have ever seen him have - making it all the more extreme that it’s happening in the personality he developed in order to protect himself from his phobia and his anxiety.

It’s here that Doppo is able to enter - which Honobono had purposely tried to keep him occupied by pulling some strings to get him fired - and says the following:

WHAT DO YOU KNOW ABOUT HIM?! He went through SO much hell during that time! DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH HE HAD TO DO TO OVERCOME THESE PROBLEMS? LIKE YOU WOULD KNOW ANYTHING!!

Hifumi has all too casually dropped a few comments that lead to one assuming that he had mentally hit rock bottom with his depression and anxiety that came out of his phobia developing. He has a line about how even if living is the harder answer in the end, it’s the option you have to chose. Lines about “sinking into the sea of despair”, never really showing fear about the prospect of dying / being killed ( he always puts himself in harms way for other people - pushing away a stalker that was charging Doppo with a knife even if it meant he could get stabbed again ( he had already been stabbed by her on his arm because he moved just enough out of the way when she tried to kill him ), catching the same stalker when she tried to commit suicide and falling out of the window in her attempt with her and turning them over midair so he’d be the one to hit the ground instead, and putting himself in front of Honobono and Doppo when she was threatening him ).

Hifumi also has a lot of lines, however, about valuing his life. He sees his life as something that’s important, he stands up for other people; he pushes people to see the value in their own lives as well.

All of these things combined have led a lot of people, including myself, to believe that in that period between the event that triggered his gynophobia and when he developed his host personality that he did go through a period where he was suicidal - and canonically we know that at the very least, he was severely depressed during this period. 

I still don’t have any head canons or theories on what I think happened to him and his family - but I have a lot of things relating to that that I’m going to continue on with below because it plays heavily into my portrayal of Hifumi.

I think that he was extremely close with his mother and his older sister, and likely had an absent father. I feel like his sister was probably a few years older than him and helped to raise him in part, since his mother would have needed to work to take care of both of her children. I think he probably learned a lot of the things he still enjoys today - sewing, cooking, knitting, etc... - from his mother and his sister both due to an interest in it and a desire to help out around the house.

Whatever happened to his mother and his sister I feel like had to have such a massive impact on him, for the mention of them alongside whatever Honobono did to him in high school being enough to trigger the most severe panic attack he’s had to date, as well as feeding into the roots of his gynophobia. Thus, I really do think he was incredibly close with them.

Hifumi is also someone who seems to struggle a lot with his identity. He’s split his personality into thirds and rarely lets people in to see the real him - someone he isn’t really sure who they are anymore - being that the only time we see that real version of him is in the privacy of his own home around Jakurai and Doppo.

A lot of people agree with me on the fact that he seems to radiate some kind of Gender energy which is nice to see! I do genuinely think Hifumi is a character who struggles with his gender identity. I’m not sure what identity I think fits him, but I’m not sure he really knows either since I feel like his phobia is kind of drawing him back from exploring that properly. Same with his sexuality - given that he has been seen freely flirting with men but vocalizing his desire to freely do the same with women.

Hifumi is a character with a lot of layers but in the end I think he just really struggles with that sense of “self”. He doesn’t know who he is anymore because in all of his struggles to get over his hurt - he left himself behind and walked out as a stranger to his own mind. He’s great at hiding the fact that he struggles with this - that he struggles at all - but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t hurt. I think he’s very much a “if I ignore my problems they won’t bother me” kind of person but he can’t...hide that from the people that really and truly know him either.

He can’t hide it from himself, either, even if he doesn’t know who he’s looking for inside himself anymore.

[tangerinegod]

Hello! I am sorry to bother you but I am a senior getting ready for college this year. I am in the US and I wanted to major in the same thing you did, do you have any possible tips for me? I still haven't even looked for colleges that would be best for animation majors so I figured if you were up to giving out any tips/saying any basic ideas if you wanted to/if you had the time to then maybe I'll have a better idea! I apologise for if I sound weird! I'm tried to word it correctly but I can't 😿

hi!! i’m totally down to share my experiences! someone else also had some questions so i’m going to put them all together in this post haha, hopefully this helps! it’ll get pretty long so apologies ahead of time but art school is a lot to think about so i wanna be as helpful as i can around it, its a lot of time and money. I’m gonna put it all under a read more cus it is really really long!

i wanna start off with the fact that I had the privilege of attending school in a financially stable environment, my parents were/are really supportive so w merit scholarship i only came out with around 20-30k in debt and i also had housing support my entire time in school. they were ok with me focusing on academics so i didn’t hold a retail job unless i was out of school like summer/winter break. Ofc though i regularly take commissions/do merch/cons to try and pay for all bills that arent rent cus i did want to be financially independent where it was possible. I also did try and work during the semester but everytime i did my body would deff start to breakdown from the fact that i didnt wanna compromise schoolwork with jobs.. so just read ahead know this experience is from a student who was able to attend focusing only on school work for most of the time!

the biggest thing is knowing art school is not required to become a professional in either freelancing or industry! there are a huuuge amount of online tools and classes these days that provide the exact same education and for cheaper too. i think it depends on what experience you prefer/can handle/want but it’s definitely possible to make art/animation art your living without higher education. the thing that college will for sure give you though is the ability to meet deadlines, work even when you dont want to, and connections with peers+teachers. i think the connections part is invaluable because you’re basically coming out with a network of people you already know and who know you! 

also its good to know if you want to attend/can handle art school! it’s a lot of time and energy and students get burned out really fast. the best piece of advice i got before going was ‘if you draw every single day, even if its for only like 5-10 minutes or a doodle for a whole year you should be fine’ consistency is super key because you’re attending school to draw, and you’ll have to create work for stuff you aren’t excited for at some point or another. burnout is extremely real and the only reason i didn’t experience it was probably because i got super into drawing naruto fanart again inbetween sophomore and junior year! it helped give me something to draw seperated from school which is the only thing i was drawing for since i had entered rip. a heads up id also consider myself a workaholic so i fit in ok with the ‘art school’ environment but it is suuper unhealthy. if you are fantastic at managing your schedule then it’s definitely possible to take care of yourself! freshman year i got 8 hours a sleep a night and only pulled all nighters for some second semester finals at the end. sophomore year + up though i ended up prioritizing hw over sleep and like for sure, definitely shortened my life span. there’s another q down below where i’ll go more into detail but ya, be careful w ur work balance!

another tip especially for animation is knowing for a fact what type of animation you’re looking to go into, and what the school is offering. I didn’t think i’d get into art school at the time so i only applied to two places + decided if i didnt get into either id attend community to get credits out of the way while building portfolio. honestly? i did not do a lot of research LOL but like i did end up having the chance to tour and stuff! just know that each school will have a very different curriculum. The main differences are schools that prioritize 3D (cg animation, cg modeling, ect) and 2D/traditional (hand drawn, ‘oldschool’, digital or traditional based) this is a huge difference so make sure you do research for it! in most cases a 2D/traditional program will also offer 3D since it’s at the forefront of the industry animation wise rn. My school taught 2D but like hand drawn on physical paper 2D, frame by frame. while it was a good experience it’s super outdated because digital tools make it way faster + easier! i’d recommend looking for a program that is digital 2D over traditional 2D. 

if after your senior year covid is still affecting campuses in the US to keep them shut down i’d recommend attending a community college to get credits and then transferring into school. one of the negatives is paying money for gened classes when ur not there for them; if you can get them out of the way sooner and cheaper there is absolutely no negative + you could graduate earlier or use the extra time for better work or to work a job! 

these are all the general tips i think i’d give on like a broad basis of attending or not to think about? let me know if u have more q’s! someone asked q’s im answering below that go more into personal experiences + work culture so heres those:

- how many hours a week do u spend studying, in class, otherwise making art? like how much of ur life does it consume?

I was basically working on art.... 24/7! since i wasnt working a job at the same time i crammed as many credits as possible into my schedule so on avg i did 18 credit semesters (around 6 classes) art classes go for 6 hours and non art go for 3, so i’d spent around 30-35 hours in class a week! hw wise it varied on the class but combined it would be around 35-50 hours a week... im guessing? on average studio classes would have 8-10 hours of hw, maybe 5 for a light week, and gened classes 5 hours w them all combined. or this was probably how things were before junior year? junior+senior year i had thesis + everything else ontop.. i’d spend around 30-40 hours on thesis a week with other classes ontop of that bc my film was super long cus im a dummy! 

- is it hard going to art school n realising that altho u were probably quite talented… so is everyone else? Like. all of a sudden. ur not special and everyone seems as good as u, you know? More generally, how do u deal with comparison?

kinda?? i think instead of the idea of like you vs others it feels more of like a competition at first to be the best. this varies hugely on school culture though; my animation year was really friendly with each other and get along extremely well, so my answer to this is v different than some others who attended different schools. i think that the idea of ‘comparison’ only lasts a portion of the first year because at some point you realize that it’s not a who’s better as much as its a ‘these are my coworkers’ type thing? like healthy competition 100% because we’re all working to improve but i think most of us learned pretty early on that viewing each other as peers going into the same workforce helped a lot. also at some point everyone develops their own style/starts to develop their artistic preferences so there isn’t a way to compare whos 'better’ anymore? i dont think there ever is tbh because style is appealing based off of an individuals preferences. If anything realizing everyone else is also amazing makes you wanna work harder ig? or thats how i felt! it’s inspiring to be surrounded by so many people who create such amazing work. 

- is there a lot of workaholic culture? all nighter culture?

100000% there can be a workaholic and all nighter culture. i know people who avoided it and thats honestly fantastic because i fall super easily into that pit. sometimes i’ll pull all nighters on a personal project just because i really want to finish it... i am definitely considered a workaholic all the way through and its not healthy rip... i’d estimate at the worst i was pulling 2-3 all nighters a week and only 4-5 hours of sleep on the nights i didn’t? that was only for one year tho, after that i was like yeah ok this is really bad for my health in the long run LOL so i tried to cut it down to one all nighter a week and around 5-6 hours of sleep the rest of the week! by senior year my decision to cram in full semesters paid off and i was able to consistently get around 7 hours of sleep a night + no all nighters minus finals since my schedule was lighter despite thesis 😭 while there is that culture i don’t think people view it as like a badge of honor or something to be proud of anymore which is good, we mostly view it as a flaw of the art school system and something that needs to be fixed!!

- are you glad u did it? how did u know it was what u wanted?

i am glad i did it! i’m definitely in a limbo right now of if it was worth both my time, money, and my parents money rip but i think with what i got out of it i definitely wouldn’t be as far skill wise or knowledge wise when it comes to the art industry. i would say it was only worth it for be because i had so much support going in though so i was able to focus so much on improving. if i had only been able to put in part of the effort and not make full use of the resources provided i would honestly have a different answer.. 

i knew it was what i wanted when i realized i really couldn’t see myself pursuing a different profession happily! despite all the bumps and stuff im fully in love with drawing still and feel honored that it’s a field that can provide a living. my second profession choice was to go into culinary school? and third option i think going was into music cus i was also a band kid hehe.  

- how do u cope with ur hobby becoming ur job? how do u deal with art going from something u do for fun to something u do on command constantly?

i think seperating work art from personal art is important! in my case im doubling naruto into being personal work so i have something to fall back onto that isn’t work related. its been a hyperfixation for 12+ years? so drawing it at this point is just like personal art imo. some people have hobbies outside of art and only draw for their job! i think after attending classes for so long the idea of hobby turning into job feels extremely natural? also i enjoy doing it so thats a huge plus! 

sorry this is SO long but i hope i answered your guys’ questions! if you have more just lmk!

[drawlfoy]

Mirror, Mirror P.3

masterlist request guidelines requests are open! just please be sure to read my guidelines before sending one in :)

pairing: draco x femravenclaw!reader

request: the original idea is all mine, but p.3 has been requested

summary: while on their prefect rounds, y/n runs into both an issue and a mirror that she knows nothing about (but her partner certainly does).

warnings: foul language, light physical violence. i hesitated to write the slap since i don’t believe that anyone should ever hit someone. especially in a romantic relationship. but also this is magic and fictional and this draco is getting on my damned nerves

a/n: fr i’m so flattered that you all wanted a third part, i really am, but oh my GOD this particular draco is being such an intolerable dickwad and not cooperating with anything that i want him to do. thank you for your patience

music recs: i listened to the hp soundtrack while writing this so that’s pretty meta

word count: 1,239

tags! tags! @accio-rogers @geeksareunique

Y/N huffed as she stamped off to find Professor Flitwick, her hair falling loose from her bun as the sharp movements jerked it out of place.

That git that git that git that git that git....

How had he known? Y/N was secretive and so were her friends...as far as she was aware of. Perhaps she had fallen asleep in Potions that day and uttered her undying love for her fantasy Malfoy, but while the Slytherins were cunning and sly, there was no way they all wouldn’t have laughed at her. And she wasn’t even tired, thanks to the Wide-Eye she was permitted to take after her 10-12 shifts. 

She was pondering the thought as she neared the end of an unfamiliar hallway, suddenly struck with the realization that while she was deep in concentration, she had missed the turn to Flitwick’s office. The end of the corridor was oddly familiar, though, and when she turned to the left, she knew why.

The mirror she had seen with Draco was right in front of her. If she squinted in the dark, she could make out the letters ERISED on the top, something she committed to memory for her next library visit. But before she could spend too much on her many tricks to memorize a word, a movement in the mirror distracted her.

“Aah! Malfoy!” 

He had appeared next to her, gazing into the mirror with a teasing expression on his face. A smirk formed as he closed the distance, resting his chin on top of her head and shutting his eyes contently. 

The only problem with the picture was that when Y/N looked to her side, Malfoy was nowhere to be seen. He only existed in the mirror, and it appeared as though her reflection wasn’t a perfect copy as well when she looked closer. Y/N was donning formal ministry robes that only high ranking members of the Ministry wore...the very career path she wanted to follow. She laughed, lacing her fingers through Malfoy’s and squeezing.

Y/N watched, speechless, as the pieces all began to fall into place. Just like the many riddles she had had to solve in the past to enter her common room, the confusion slowly drifted away until she was left, staring right at the answer.

Erised was simply the word Desire reflected. She desired a high ranking career in the Ministry and Draco Malfoy. That was no secret, at least not to her.

But Malfoy knew now. She had confessed to seeing their reflection in the mirror when she was holding onto his sleeve to make him stop. While she thought the claim of it being a regular old mirror innocent enough, she had been dead wrong. And, somehow, he had known what the mirror was.

Now she had to find Professor Flitwick.

<>

“That’s kind of funny,” Rena admitted, dicing her beetroot with practiced precision. “But mortifying. What are you gonna do?” 

Y/N sighed, adding her own ingredients to the shared cauldron between them. “I don’t know. I talked to Flitwick, but he refuses to switch us. Something about house unity and maturity. I would push harder, but I want him to choose me as a prefect next year too, so I’ve just got to roll with the punches.”

“So how are you going to act around him? Are you gonna be the same or come clean?”

“Well, he knows now,” Y/N mused. “But I was thinking that instead, I could tell him that he was getting his knickers in a twist about nothing because I went back there and just saw my simple reflection.”

“That’s evil, and you know it.”

“You say that as if he’s not evil.”

“Fair, fair.”

The two worked in silence, finishing up the extra credit assignment in the cold dungeon air. Y/N shivered as she began cleaning up the ingredients and noticed that Rena was yawning profusely.

“Rena, you don’t need to stay. I know you stayed up late studying last night. I’ll take care of it, you hurry up to our dorm and I’ll be there soon with some tea.”

Rena smiled. “You sure? You don’t look too well-rested yourself.”

“Absolutely. You forget that I fell asleep watching you lean over your desk last night. You deserve to sleep a little more.”

“Okay. Love you, Y/N!”

“Love you too.”

Rena skipped off, suddenly revived. Y/N rolled her eyes but smiled after her, gathering up the rest of the ingredients and washing the cauldron.

While she knew that she had done the right thing sending Rena back to their room, she couldn’t help but wish that she hadn’t. The dungeons were creepy at all times of the day, but especially so if it was 11pm and you were alone. Y/N thought that she had heard some suspicious sounds from the corridor but brushed off the notion. 

No one’s down here except for the Slytherins, and they’re all holed up in their swanky common room. 

Ah, yes, the Slytherins. Y/N cringed at the thought. She was in Malfoy’s territory, something she wasn’t too pleased about. The most disobedient part of her mind wanted to catch a glimpse of Malfoy in his natural habitat, but she knew that that was a bad idea.

Before she knew it, her station was completely clear and it was time for her to depart into the dark and freezing corridor. Gross. She didn’t understand how Rena had managed to look so cheery skipping into a corridor that probably had its own budding rat civilization. 

She shut the door quietly behind her, hissing as a water droplet fell on top of her head. The chill as it slipped down her neck caused her to yelp, jumping nearly a foot in the air. In her surprise, she almost didn’t hear the amused snort from the shadows somewhere to her left. 

“Who’s there?” 

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

Shit. She could recognize that drawl anywhere. 

Draco Malfoy stepped into the dim lighting by the torch, wearing his signature silk suit. Does he ever take that off? His hair was annoyingly nice looking considering how late it was, and its silver glow, brought out by the torchlight, made her knees weak.

He cocked his head expectantly, waiting for her scathing comeback. She just stared, her eyes wide and dilated from the dark. What could she say to him? 

“I went back to the mirror after our rounds.” The words just tumbled out of her mouth, quick and shaky. 

“And?” His mouth quirked and his eyes sparkled.

“And I don’t know why you’re so enchanted by it. I just saw my reflection again.”

He frowned, but she could still see a shadow of amusement dance across his features. “Really, now?”

Y/N was frozen in place, but she so desperately wanted to run away from the situation. “Er...yeah?” 

Before another word could come out of his very well-shaped mouth, the frozen spell over her had broken and she was already speeding halfway down the hall.

“Hey! I wasn’t done talking to you!” 

Refusing to look back, she turned to the stairs and began jogging up them, praying that he couldn’t hear her feet on the stone as she was literally running away from him. 

This was so, so embarrassing. Ravenclaws didn’t run, they remained and outsmarted their opponents with their wit and wisdom. But, for some reason, when it came to Draco Malfoy, all of that went away. 

final a/n: so the wait for this one was long and it didn’t even turn out that cool, but i want a lot more time to actually construct the next meeting of them during their rounds, and that should be out soon. i’m sorry for making this one so short!! i’m thinking there will be either 1 long part or 2 more short parts before the end of this is reached. thanks for reading!

[badbhye]

fuck buddy! jungkook

Warning: this is literally like 1.5k words of pure smut. I have no excuse so read with caution.

“No kissing, Jeon,” you say moving your face away so his lips barely graze your cheek.

“You’re letting me fuck you in a closet but you won’t let me kiss you?” he raises an eyebrow, moving to your neck instead and suckling on the juncture between your neck and shoulder. You whine a little, grinding your hips on his thigh to ease the need for friction.

“You’re not my boyfriend, Jeon,” you say, as his hands dig into the flesh of your thigh, skirt raised so high you’re practically naked from the waist down.

“Can you at least call me Jungkook, I really don’t want to hear my dad’s name when I’m fucking you into next week,” he says, before pulling your panties aside and continues to barely graze your entrance.

“God, you’re so annoying,” you spit but move your hips in hopes to feel more of his fingers.

“A-ah, don’t even try it,” he pulls away from you, “I won’t touch you until you call me by my name.”

“Is this your way of teasing me? Because it won’t work, Jungkook,” you deadpan and he laughs hard enough that he has to lean his head back, exposing his neck to you. At this, you take action, because clearly, he wasn’t capable of a quick fuck. You had things to do today.

“Listen, we don’t have a lot of time,” you say, unbuttoning his pants and letting them fall down to his knees, “I need to be out of here in the next ten minutes, I don’t need everyone to know what I’m doing here.”

“Relax, would you?” he responds, hand slowly reaching for your waist so you’re leaning against the wall once more, “everyone already knows what you’re doing, why else would you come to the frat house?”

“I’ve been here before, for your information,” you bite, inhaling sharply when you feel him finally insert a finger in you, “Namjoon, unfortunately, lives here too.”

“Uhuh,” Jungkook says, it’s obvious he isn’t really listening to you, he adds another finger and you suddenly don’t even care that he doesn’t buy your stupid excuse, and frankly you don’t even remember why you were making it in the first place. You’re fucking Jeon Jungkook in a closet for god’s sake.

“Let me eat you out,” he rasps, groaning a little when you clench on his fingers.

“W-what,” you say, a little breathless from his ministrations.

He gets down on his knees, spreading your legs further and further apart. “Can I?” he asks, eyes wide, as he looks up patiently awaiting your answer. Your immediate response would have been no, but when you see him on his knees, almost begging, it stirs something within you and you just nod in response. He immediately hooks your leg on his shoulder and dives in. You have to bite your lip to hold back the surprised moan that threatens to break out. “F-fuck, Jungkook, you really just go all out don’t you,” you pant, hands finding purchase in his hair. He just hums in response, tongue teasing your entrance and you hold yourself back from just straight out grinding on his face, you might be hooking up with Jungkook in a closet but you still had some of your dignity left.

“Fuuuck, your pussy is a straight up delicacy,” Jungkook moans, then aims at your clit. Your hips jump and you immediately press yourself harder on his tongue.

“Ugh, why do you - fuck - make everything sound so gross,” you bite back, words punctuated by short grunts.

He ignores you and instead adds his fingers to the mix, and immediately plunges two inside of you. You gasp and the suddenness but it tapers off into a long drawn out moan when he crooks his fingers just right and taps at your g-spot. It’s like your brain is leaking out of your ears and the only words you know are fuck, yes and Jungkook. You’re so lost in the feeling that you belatedly realise that you’re harshly tugging on his hair. You soften your hold on his roots and stop pulling, thinking that he probably didn’t like it.

“Why’d you stop?” he asks immediately, looking up, but fingers still moving at the same pace. You look down at him with wide eyes, he looks so obedient with his chin and cheeks glistening and eyes wide. “Can you pull my hair again?” he asks when you fail to respond.

“Uh, yeah,” you say, strengthening your hold once he’s buried his face back between your legs. The second you pull you feel Jungkook’s entire body shudder and he groans against your folds.

“Fuck,” you can’t help but grind your hips with his movements, “I’m gonna come,” you mewl as he presses his tongue flat against your clit and just lets you grind on his face.

“Fuck- fu- Jungkook I’m cumming,” you whine and he just moans against you, letting you ride out your orgasm. You’re breathing becomes heavy as your limbs loosen around him, and he helps you stand straight. “Need a breather?” he asks, rolling on a condom.

“Just fuck me before I get bored,” you respond immediately.

“As you wish,” he chuckles and slightly lifts you up and your legs automatically wrap themselves around his waist. He teases at your entrance a bit, and every time he would reach your clit you would hiss, still sensitive from your last orgasm. “You sure?” he asks once more, and you just nod, “Just put it in already,” you whine impatiently, moving your hips in hopes of somehow putting his dick in you. He doesn’t tease you any further and enters you slowly, asking if you’re okay again once he’s maybe two inches in. At your confirmation, he enters the rest of the way and groans when he’s suddenly balls deep in you. You have to hold your breath at the feeling, even though you’d been thoroughly prepped, he still feels so full. It doesn’t hurt, it’s more like a pleasant stretch that you hadn’t felt in a while and honestly didn’t realise how much you were missing.

“Y-you can move now, Jungkook,” you nudge him, and but all he does is shudder, a groan muffled from where he sucks on your neck hard enough to leave marks. You have half a mind to stop him but the feeling of him being inside of you and the suction from his mouth just adds to the pleasure and your eyes almost roll back. He starts with a gentle pace, almost as he was testing the waters, his mouth doesn’t leave your neck, teeth gently grazing your jugular. You shiver and start rocking your hips with him. At this, he gets the hint and begins moving at a faster, stronger pace.

“O-oh my god, Jungkook,” you shamelessly whine, “faster, fuck me faster!”

He complies without complaint, and all you can hear are his shallow breaths and soft moans. You want to bite your lip to stop your own noises just so you can focus on him. You never thought you’d find this so sexy but his moans are the one thing that pushes you towards the edge. Your whining gets more incessant and when Jungkook pinches at your nipple you physically feel time stop for a second before an intense wave of pleasure courses through you. The orgasm is so strong you have to stop breathing until it rides out. Jungkook continues to thrust in, and at the flutter of your walls, he comes after you. He stays buried inside you, until your walls stop clenching on his dick, his fingers trailing patterns on your inner thighs, making you shiver.

He pulls out and helps you stand up straight, helping you find your balance when you stumble a little because your legs are still shaking.

“God, that was amazing,” he says, taking off the condom and tossing it aside.

“Don’t you share this closet with your housemates,” you sneer at him in disgust as he pulls up his pants.

“They never throw theirs out, why should I?” he shrugs and you immediately shove him aside, not wanting to spend any more time in his presence.

“God you disgust me,” you say, hastily fixing yourself up and making your way out the door so you can quickly sneak out. The coast is mostly clear, you can hear someone in the kitchen downstairs but you don’t care since it’s not on your way out anyway. You’re almost out the door when you hear, “Same time on Friday, right?”

You flinch and turn back to find an amused Jungkook at the top of the stairs. Immediately after that, Namjoon exits the kitchen and pauses when he sees you, “Oh hey ____, I didn’t know you were coming over today.”

You’re mortified and feel utterly defeated. You want to grab the nearest gross boy sneaker and fling it at Jungkook’s head but instead, you pin him with a glare to match his smirking face. It’s silent for a few seconds, the tension so thick you could cut it with a knife.

“I’ll text you,” you say after a pause, turning to Namjoon, your expression changes slightly, “See you later, Joon!” and you immediately depart, shutting the door loudly behind you.

A/N: ummmmmm so yeah this happened. tell me ur thoughts n send me some prompts pls !!!

[anothersillyfanblog]

These Days- Sanders Sides au

Not sure if anyone is going to like this, or if this is a one shot or a running thing. But this is an au focusing Virgil, who lives in the attic of a lovely little house. He’s just going about his day, trying to get his studies done. Oh and also he’s never left the attic in his entire memory. If I ever do a follow up, the u!Logan will make a hell of a lot more sense. It’s mostly just Virgil’s daily routine tbh.

Warnings: potential abuse, emotional abuse, unsympathetic Logan, potentially u!Patton.

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Part Two (there’s a part two)

He had just started studying today- sat up in his attic with beams of sunlight lazily floating through the large, triangular window by his bed. With how calm it seemed, Virgil almost could’ve mistook the early 7am atmosphere for a tranquil summer’s afternoon. Maybe it was the lack of shouting.

When he heard Patton’s bedroom door creak open, he held his breath for a second but smiled. Patton waking up sometimes meant loud arguments with Logan, but always meant breakfast.

A knock on the door.

“Hey kid- I brought breakfast.” Patton sounded really happy today, obviously whatever interactions downstairs went well. Virgil tapped on the floor twice and smiled as his protector (but more importantly, waffles) entered. Patton softly placed the plate on the desk, next to Virgil’s laptop.

“So how’s studying going? Gonna make mr. grumpy proud?” he asked.

I’m on 11th grade work right now- Virgil signed

“Ooh, I didn’t know you’d moved up! What subject?” Patton asked.

Logan said I could move up today. At this second I’m on Physics. It’s a lot harder than 10th and I’m a bit worried… he trailed off, looking down.

Patton smiled softly “Well, kiddo, I’m sure you’ll get your head round it. Now, I’ll leave you to your physics (but more importantly, waffles).” He whistled briskly to himself and left.

The day was almost not normal. Virgil almost just sat in his attic and worked on the sheets, read the textbooks and occasionally pulled out a secret book he owned to flick through. But then, like usual, there was a crash downstairs and, like usual, he heard Logan scream.

He couldn’t hear what either of them were screeching about (he never could) but they just were. There was a fizz of electricity, or something, and everything went silent before the usual third voice hopped in.

Virgil didn’t really know who the third voice was. Roman, a family friend around his age- if they were a family- was still at school at this time and it just didn’t sound like him. It also wasn’t Virgil’s secret friend, the one who gave him the books, because the others didn’t know about him. So that limited it to someone he didn’t know which, according to one of Virgil’s books, was a list of about seven billion.

-

Once he had finished all his work and Logan had come upstairs to collect it, he was just left to read and wait. And the waiting paid off. Eventually, he heard the front door open and a fast figure bounce up the stairs before proceeding to burst open his door.

“No need to be bored any longer, Virgil! I come bearing DVDs!” a melodramatic young man clutching a carrier bag stood in his doorway.

Virgil tried not to laugh. Hey Roman. He signed nonchalantly. How was school?

“Oh come on!” Roman dumped the DVDs on the floor just in front of the sofas “I’ve got Frozen 2 and I managed to get a really good deal on some weird nature documentary for your ecology stuff- don’t take that tone with me!”

I can’t speak. Virgil smirked.

“I’m talking about your psychic tone.” He said smugly.

Virgil raised his eyebrows Psychic tone? Do you mean my facial expression?

Roman scoffed “That’s just a fancy way of saying ‘psychic tone’, emo-boy.” He sat himself down on the sofa and beckoned Virgil over. “Now let me show you the glory of Frozen 2!”

-

In the late evening, Virgil left his room simply to go to the toilet. He remembered that one time Patton had said he’d had a discussion with Logan about moving Virgil to a different room so he’d be closer to the bathroom, but Virge liked the attic and it never got past discussion stage.

Today, though, he bumped into Logan. Physically.

I’m sorry! Virgil signed, panicked.

“Why are you outside of your room?” Logan asked, quietly “I almost dropped my briefcase, I’d like to obtain some information as to why you needed to be an obstacle at this exact moment.”

Virgil indicated towards the bathroom door.

“Ah. An unavoidable biological function, proceed.” Logan gestured and the younger guy walked quickly towards it. “Halt!” Logan suddenly said “Your work was adequate today, to say you have only just moved up from the 10th grade curriculum. Congratulations.” He nodded, before turning around to enter his office.

Virgil wasn’t a big fan of Logan. One of his earliest memories was when Virgil tried to sneak downstairs… It was clear Logan didn’t want to be friends.

Virgil had a secret friend though, one who only turned up at night, with his scandalous books and fantastical stories. He had a friend that need monitoring or marking, or anything like that, who was going to climb through the window he’d left open any minute now!

“Boo!”

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Thought you’d like, Vanessa:

@the-pastel-kitsune

[mousehole5000]

tgcf lb the third chapter 14 - 21

okay hit me with the lore

Xie Lian hadn’t spoken his next words before the teenager said, “He dug it out himself.” Startled, Xie Lian asked, “Why?” The teen replied, “He went mad.” -digging out your own eye okay worm

If there were demons in this world who would scam or entice the hearts of people, then there would also be humans who would fool demons. There would exist much ongoing exploitation and betrayal. He said, “If it was handed over in infatuation, yet only results in broken bones and scattered ashes, it would indeed render one’s heart to feel aggrieved.” okay also kind of dope i love it when humans and demons get some back and forth. also this feels like it could be foreshadowing

awwww xie lian giving away his only steamed bun what a sweetheart

everyone keeps telling me this book is also a tragedy but now im just laughing at the visual of headless ghosts carrying their heads around and bickering

chronic bad luck and chronic good luck meet... what will happen to our heroes...

Xie Lian raised his head, softly saying, “You are tenacious, extremely dedicated, and despite many bitter encounters with frustrations and dashed hopes, you’ve stayed true to your heart. More often than not, your misfortunes will turn into blessings, calamity to prosperity. You will continue to have good fortune, my friend, your future is radiant and will blossom spectacularly.” All the things he said were made up on the spot, so they were complete nonsense. - fhklasjksldfdfh i know this is a ploy but still this was funny. also why didnt xie lian try to pick up palm reading from another source when he fell? are they just not as good? is he pretentious like that? either way i hope we find out more about what he got up to during those 800 years

Xie Lian felt rather skeptical on how he only ate half a bun for the duration of the entire day. If young people took advantage on their good health like this, sooner or later they would surely end up passed out on the streets. - xie lian is directly calling me out for my quarantine eating habits im sorry king ill do better

Previously, it had always been Xie Lian telling other people ‘it’s alright, it’s okay’. Today was the first time he heard those words spoken back to him, leaving him with an indescribable feeling. - awww okay this got me

oh my god there was only one bed

again comedy of the year. “oh you’re putting up a curtain that repels evil thats so interesting. on an entirely unrelated note im going to make you a door”

Brushing past him, San Lang pulled out the bamboo chopstick. He swayed it twice in front of him before saying, “It got dirty. I’ll throw it out later.” - edgy bastard moments begin

Xie Lian could hear the deliberation win Ling Wen’s tone. One thing he could be sure of was that she must be in a difficult situation. He said, “Okay, I understand. Since this is inconvenient for you, then there’s no need for you to say more. In addition, the two of us never had this conversation in private.” - awwwww considerate crown prince xie lian

“What, do you guys know him?” Xie Lian said. “……” Fu Yao coldly replied, “No we don’t.” - all men do is lie. also love the petty little broom dispute. i know its actually quite intentional and that only makes it funnier. also guys stop wrecking xie lian’s home he just got it fixed up!! if anyone breaks the new door ill be highly disappointed in them

Xie Lian nodded his head. “That’s right. I wrote it. If you guys continued fighting in there, I would be pleading for reconstruction instead of renovation. Then, I would really have no dignity left.” - see xie lian said if youre not going to contribute to it then please dont fight in my monastery its been through enough

Earlier, when Fu Yao had entered, he hadn’t gotten to examine the interior furnishings. Now, after standing in this crooked, shabby house for quite a while, he was able to see it all. As if his entire body, from head to toe, was uncomfortable, he asked, “You live in a place like this?” Xie Lian handed him a chair and said, “I’ve always lived in these kinds of places.” - ive seen this quote before and it really is just that “damn bitch you live this like?” meme. amazing

Fu Yao did not sit, his expression also turning rigid for a second. It was hard to tell what the look on his face was. It seemed nine parts blank shock and one part schadenfreude. - THIS IS MY NEW FAVORITE EXPRESSION I WOULD LOVE TO SEE IT

In the desert, the difference in temperature between night and day was drastic. During the night, the freezing temperature was cold enough to seep into one’s bones, yet it was still tolerable. But come daytime, it was a whole other experience. The sky here was incredibly clear and expansive with dashes of white clouds, but likewise, the blazing sun was just as fierce. The group continued to walk, but the more they walked, the more it felt as though they were going into an enormous steamer basket. The hot air emitted from deep within the earth felt as though a day’s worth of walking could steam a person alive. - YES DESERTS YES

okay xie lian is so kind and so generous? he keeps giving stuff away when he has almost nothing and making sure that others are taken care of first..... love him

Xie Lian watched them put on airs. But when such airs were discarded, they finally got physical. Separated by the space of the table, the three of them fought with the poor water bottle, pushing it back and forth. - if these three really are who i think they are this is even funnier. the very clear toying thats going on is truly delightful

Even before, Xie Lian had always thought that although this teenager was always smiling, his smile often made it hard for people to distinguish whether it was actually genuine, or whether it was mockery in the guise of compliments. However, this time, anyone would be able to tell that there wasn’t even half an ounce of goodwill in his smile. - yeah that about sums it up. not even half an ounce of goodwill damn that sure the hell is not a lot of goodwill

He had Ruoye go grab onto something sturdy and stable, but Ruoye ended up grabbing onto San Lang! - awwww thats kind of cute. also the mental image... im going to make this its own post too but

im waiting for xie lian to cough up all that sand hes eating and say something funny when we’re back on the ground. i hope we get more very literal decisions from ruoye

It should be noted that there was a common saying within the mortal realm—a powerful dragon cannot crush a snake in its old haunts. - oh i like this and the translators note This is an old Chinese adage that basically means, ‘even a powerful man cannot crush a local bully.’

“General.” Nan Feng and Fu Yao both spoke at the same time, “What?” - CONFIRMED I CALLED IT tbh it was kind of obvious now ig now im just waiting. also again hysterical. if youre gonna hide your identities boys fucking lkafjfjlkdaf; try harder to remember that youre hiding

To be demoted again and again, to the point one couldn’t be demoted any further…… this kind of experience honestly felt too familiar. Xie Lian felt two gazes collectively fall on his body, but he pretended not to notice and continued reading the text on the stone slate. - this is a funny little set up for what seems to be a parallel between xie lian and this central plains general. he tripped on his own bootlace??? this HAS to be xie lian parallel what does it mean. oooh the common people on both sides of the conflict were the ones who commemorated him? interesting..

San Lang faintly smiled before he whispered, “No, I made that up. Since they had laughed at him before, making them kowtow to him now wouldn’t be asking too much, right?” Xie Lian looked and saw that it was really true. There was already no more text left to translate on the stone slate. He had originally wanted to sigh, but now he just found it funny. Thus, he also whispered, “Why are you so cheeky?” San Lang stuck out his tongue. The two of them were laughing when suddenly, someone screamed, “What is this!!!???” - okay they are funny and i respect the deception. also oooh scorpion tailed snake. oooh a horde of them. a classic cave blunder

“Yeah! The results are relatively the same as worshipping that rubbish immortal! The more you worship, the unluckier you become! “ “……” For an arrow to hit the bullseye despite being in a place so distant and unrelated, Xie Lian was left with no words. - oh my god xie lian are you wearing a spiritual “kick me” sign because it really feels like you are

HE GOT STUNG XIE LIAN NO

[miguel-manbemel]

Aspects & Fanfics Ep. 39: Alone in the Dark

As it has been the norm lately, 14 days have passed and I present you with a new episode of the main narrative of the blog. In this episode, although I had made mentions of it in previous episodes, I fully start mentioning the quarantine and the effect it’s having on Thomas and the Sides, which is gonna be the base for this episode. Some of it is inspired on my own experience of being under quarantine in Spain, which is one of the countries that had the strictest confinements in all the world (we couldn’t leave the house at all except to buy first necessity goods, like basic food and medicines, and the penalty for breaking the lockdown was of 400 euros, with the possibility of even going to jail) I know in America the confinement wasn’t that strict (at least I read they let people get out to do some exercise, always keeping social distancing) but a confinement is a confinement anyway and when its as long as this one, it can take a toll on anyone, including character Thomas. That’s what I’m exploring in this episode. I hope you enjoy it and I’m leaving you with it now. Until next time.

SYNOPSIS: It’s been four months of confinement. Thomas is feeling very lonely, even hopeless, so he calls Joan. They give him the idea of visiting him in the Mind Palace since now they can enter from any physical location at their own free will, and so they both meet there. Roman visits them and soon they realize he’s not feeling well at all, and it doesn’t help matters that Thomas once again gets possessed by his Dark Master self, threatening to wreak havoc all over the Mind Palace.

WARNINGS: Mentions to lack of hope, sickness and the possibility of death. Romantic prinxiety, dukeceit and logicality. Remus and Janus make some innuendo references.

In memory of the great acting lady, Dame Olivia de Havilland (1916-2020), one of the best actresses of the last century. May she rest in peace and her work never be forgotten.

EPISODE INDEX

[Thomas is playing video games in his living room. He seems to be struggling on a difficult level. When he was almost on the verge of finally completing it, he’s beaten out]

THOMAS: [yelling] MOTHERF… [bleep] [bleep] you fu… [bleep] [bleep] [bleep] son of a fu… [bleep] b… [bleep] [bleep] [bleep]

[the screen pauses. Patton’s voice is heard off-screen]

PATTON: Don’t adjust your TV sets, kiddos. Your speakers are totally safe and… sound.

LOGAN: [voice in the distance] Holy sh… [bleep]

PATTON: Logan, please, get your bleeping act together! As I was saying, Thomas is just going through a fit of inappropriate language to vent out his frustration over having to restart that level he’d worked so hard on. Remember, kiddos, it’s not nice to use this kind of language at home. Use instead clean alternatives like “Dadgummit”, “Son of a bee-sting”, or my favorite, “What the fwah?”

REMUS: [voice abruptly interrupting Patton’s voice] Naaah, to the f… [bleep] with that! These words are in the English dictionary so why the f… [bleep] shouldn’t we use them? Let people express themselves however they f… [bleep] …ng want, Patton! Okay, I just wanted to leave that there, go on with whatever boring voice-over you were doing. See ya!

PATTON: [loud sigh] As I was saying, signal will be resumed ten minutes after Thomas calms down so your ears don’t suffer any longer. Roman, if you don’t mind, could you serve us a flash-forward, please?

ROMAN: [off voice] At your service, Patton! Rolling title screen, before the green goblin decides to come back!

[intro sequence]

THOMAS: [still angry but more calm] What is up, everybody? [sighs] Sorry about earlier. I shouldn’t have reacted as verbally angry as I did, and I apologize. It’s just that this quarantine thing is driving me crazy. I know it’s the right thing to do and that it’s hard for everyone and that it is our duty to comply, because everybody’s health, even lives, are at risk, so I’ve complied without fail. I only got out when strictly necessary to buy food, hygiene products, or medicines if I needed them, always wearing my mask and keeping social distancing, and I stayed home otherwise. But it’s been four months already and… every day is harder than the previous and… I also miss hugging my friends and family. I must endure, I know, that’s what I keep telling myself all the time. I thought, as an introvert, this would have been much easier, but one thing is avoiding social contact because you want to and another thing is being deprived of social contact by someone else. I never thought I would say this, but… I miss social contact, every day more. [sighs] Sorry about this rant. I have no one to talk face to face like that, so… yes I have my Sides, but they are me, so it’s not the same… I think I need to talk to Joan. Maybe I should call them. They always have that word of wisdom that helps me see the light in any situation, like all best friends do. I’ll call them. I hope they’re not too busy… Oh, what am I saying? We’re all confined at home, they’re as busy as I am right now.

[Thomas picks up his phone and calls Joan. After a couple of seconds, Joan picks it up]

JOAN: Hi dude.

THOMAS: Hi Joan.

JOAN: What’s up?

THOMAS: Nothing, really. I just needed to hear your voice… Wow this sounded way different in my head, I…

JOAN: It’s okay, I got it. Are you okay, Thomas?

THOMAS: To be honest, I’m kinda feeling like a mess right now. I’m getting a fit of longing for speaking to someone face to face. You’re lucky you’re spending quarantine with Talyn, at least you got each other to hold each other’s back. But I’m feeling so alone in my house right now… I’m sorry I’m venting on you. I don’t want to make you feel as down as I am right now…

JOAN: It’s okay, Thomas, that’s what friends are for and I’m happy to listen to you when you’re feeling bad, just like you listen to me when I’m in your place.

THOMAS: Thank you, Joan.

JOAN: Say, I suddenly got an interesting idea.

THOMAS: What is it?

JOAN: You know, I cannot go there in person to cheer you up, no matter how much I’d wish to do so…

THOMAS: I’d truly wish you to come here in person too. [sighs] but I guess that can only happen in my imagination right now…

JOAN: You read my mind, Thomas.

THOMAS: What?

JOAN: Have you forgotten? Thanks to us synchronizing our brainwaves I can enter inside your Mind Palace any moment, from any physical location. Why don’t we hang out in your Mind Palace so we can see each other face to face?

THOMAS: Oh, my goodness… that’s the best idea you’ve ever had, and you’ve got a lot of great ideas! But wouldn’t it be dangerous because of the virus?

JOAN: I don’t think so. I never heard of a virus spreading inside imagination. Have you? Besides, you said that Sides don’t get human diseases. I presume that also goes for people in the Mind Palace. It’s worth a try, at least. Don’t you think?

THOMAS: I think you’re right. Let’s try. Are you ready?

JOAN: I’m already concentrating. Hang up the phone and I’ll see you there.

THOMAS: Got it!

[Thomas hangs up the phone. Then he concentrates and sinks down. He rises up in a random room in the Mind Palace. After a couple of seconds, Joan rises up next to him]

JOAN: Hi, Thomas.

THOMAS: [happy] Joan! I’m so happy to see you in the flesh, you don’t have an idea!

[Thomas gives Joan a hug. Then he summons a couch and they both sit down]

JOAN: So, how are you doing, Darude Sanderstorm?

THOMAS: Well, as I told you… I’m feeling a little lonely at the moment. And this quarantine thing seems like it’s never gonna end. It’s driving me mad. Literally.

JOAN: Thomas, don’t lose hope. This has to end some day. You’ll see how, when we least expect it, they’ll find an effective vaccine and we’ll finally wake up from this nightmare.

THOMAS: I’m trying to, Joan, but lately, my hope has become so frail.

[Roman rises up in front of them]

ROMAN: [princely pose and smile] Did someone say prince?

THOMAS: What? No… But hi, anyway, Roman.

ROMAN: [confused] That’s weird, I would have sworn that this time you wished to summon me for certain, so I came… Are you sure you don’t need me?

JOAN: Well, maybe you could be of help, Roman, now that I think about it. Sit down here, please.

ROMAN: Okay…

[Roman walks to the couch. When he’s almost there, he stumbles. Joan grabs him before he falls down]

JOAN: Whoa! Be careful, Roman!

ROMAN: [giggling nervously] Haha… I tripped… Thanks for grabbing me, Joan, you’re my hero.

JOAN: You’re welcome. [mumbles in confusion, looking at the ground] What did you trip on, anyway? There’s nothing on the ground… [normal voice] Are you okay?

ROMAN: [sits down next to Joan] Yes, I’m… I’m totally okay, don’t worry. Well, how can I assist you?

JOAN: Well, you thought we were calling you and in a way you were right. The truth is we weren’t calling you by your name, or by the name Princey or anything… But we were discussing about Thomas’ frail hope… And you are Thomas’ hope, aren’t you?

ROMAN: [sighs] I think I know where you’re going, Joan… Thomas, I’m so sorry.

THOMAS: Sorry? For what? I don’t understand.

ROMAN: I’ve been feeling a lack of strength lately that I cannot ignore any longer.

THOMAS: What? But you’ve been working as usual. I may have stopped proper filming, but I never stopped writing, much less imagining stories. I’d say you’re working as good as usual.

ROMAN: Not in the creativity department, but in the hope department. I’m doing my best, but I’m running out of strength to keep your spirits up and you’re feeling the effects of it.

THOMAS: Oh…

JOAN: Do you have any idea of why is it getting so difficult for you to maintain Thomas’ hope strong enough?

ROMAN: Well… Having to face the current reality of the outer world one day after another… it weakens me. I’m fantasy. I feed off from fantasy. But fantasy in turn is grown from reality. If good things happen in reality, good and bright fantasy is created and I become strong as I can be. But lately… reality is so harsh, so crude, so full of illness, injustice and… death… that the fantasy that grows from it is equally spoiled and rotten. So, to put it in a single word, in a way… I’m starving. I’m acting strong but I’m feeling so weak lately…

THOMAS: Roman, please, you don’t need to act strong.

ROMAN: Yes I do, Thomas, because you count on me. I’m your main tool for your work. You need me, and, as I told you once already, so long ago… I can’t let you down.

THOMAS: And I also told you that you could never let me down.

ROMAN: You keep saying that, but you and I know that’s not really true. I… I’m capable of failure. In fact… I’m prone to failure lately. And it scares me that one day you may need me and I just… won’t be able to deliver. If that isn’t happening already, that is…

[Virgil rises up]

VIRGIL: Why didn’t you tell me any of this, Roman?

ROMAN: Oh, Virgil, you were listening?

VIRGIL: I came here looking for you… I just happened to arrive mid conversation and I heard everything. So, again, why didn’t you tell me any of this, Roman? How am I supposed to support my husband if he doesn’t open up to me?

ROMAN: I’m sorry, Virge… I didn’t want to worry you… We already have too many things to worry about, with our child injured. As I said, I need to be strong to support you all, and…

VIRGIL: Do you think you are the only one who has to support our whole family? That’s too much weight over your shoulders! We’re in this together, remember? I’m here to support you as much as you are here to support me. It’s not like the first time we’ve had this conversation.

ROMAN: I know, but…

[Virgil sits down next to Roman and hugs him. At that point, Roman drops the act he had been performing up until that very moment, and Thomas shows a face of horror when he sees Roman’s real face of exhaustion, even emaciation]

THOMAS: Roman! You look horrible! You mean that’s your real face and you’ve been hiding it from us all this time!?

ROMAN: [weak voice] I’m the best actor in this Mind Palace… [ironic weak voice] You must recognize that I delivered the performance of my life… I was even able to disguise my legs failing me as if I had simply tripped. Also, makeup was really helpful too…

[Roman moves his hands around his face and the makeup he was wearing disappears. Now everybody can see the deep dark bags under his eyes and his white paleness]

VIRGIL: [horrified] Wow… You look more emo than I’ve ever looked in my whole life. That shadow under your eyes, I never had it so dark… and it’s not even eyeshadow, right? Are you crazy? You’ve put your life in danger! You should have told us this earlier, at least you should have told me!

ROMAN: What use would it have been anyway? This isn’t something that Thomas or any of us can fix by waving some magic wand. It’s the state of the world what has caused it and there’s nothing we can do about it. Do you mind if I lie on your shoulder, Virge? I’m feeling so tired right now…

VIRGIL: Of course you can. You need to rest. I don’t know how you’ve been able to act as if nothing was happening to you and no one would notice. Heck, I don’t even know how you’ve been able to walk at all.

ROMAN: I’m a great actor, as I told you… and the show must go on, right?

[Roman grabs Virgil’s hand]

VIRGIL: Goodness… Your hand is so cold. Heck, you’re literally freezing! [Virgil takes off his hodie and puts it over Roman’s royal suit, placing the hood over his head. Then he summons a purple blanket] Here, maybe this will warm you up. [Virgil hugs Roman closer to him and they both cover with the blanket up to the neck] I don’t know if my body warmth will be enough, but I’ll do my best to keep you warm.

ROMAN: [now shivering] Thank you, my love. Snuggling with you always makes me feel so nice.

THOMAS: Roman, I’m scared to see you like this. If only I could do something to help you.

JOAN: You can do something, indeed. Thomas, you must try to cheer up and focus on the positive things of life.

THOMAS: You do realize that’s not exactly the easiest thing to do in the current times, right?

JOAN: Yes, I know. But you must try to stop focusing on the negative, or else Roman will suffer the consequences. Not to mention that if you go on this route, you may end up falling in a depression.

THOMAS: [suddenly angry] That’s not something that I can exactly control, Joan! Don’t blame me! It’s not my fault!

JOAN: [weirded out] Nobody is blaming you for anything, Thomas.

THOMAS: [standing up, even angrier] Yes you are! You are all blaming me on what is happening to Roman, as if it was me who drained him of all his energy on purpose!

ROMAN: Thomas, calm down, nobody is…

THOMAS: [demonic voice, his eyes turn green] STOP PUTTING THE BLAME ON ME OVER EVERYTHING THAT HAPPENS IN THIS MOTHERF… [bleep] …NG MIND PALACE!

VIRGIL: Oh, no, something’s wrong again! This is the third time this happens!

JOAN: The third time? You mean this happened to him another time after the first one I saw it happen?

THOMAS: I’M TIRED OF HAVING TO TAKE CARE OF EVERYTHING IN THIS PLACE AND NOT RECEIVING ANYTHING OTHER THAN COMPLAINTS! F… [bleep] ALL OF YOU!

VIRGIL: But it had never lasted so long! Thomas, control yourself, please!

[Thomas starts screeching a demonic yell while his eyes start glowing in green and a whirlwind forms around him that pushes the others away from him. Virgil holds Roman tight, preventing him to fall from the couch, while he himself grabs to the couch with all his strength. Suddenly, Patton and Logan rise up, then Janus and Remus rise up too]

LOGAN: [yelling over the storm noise] What is happening!?

PATTON: My ears!

VIRGIL: Thomas suddenly went out of control! He’s being controlled by his Dark Master self again!

REMUS: Wow, I could never screech like that. It hurts even me! Somebody make him stop!

JOAN: [fighting the wind] I know I called him Sanderstorm, but this is ridiculous!

PATTON: I got an idea! I hope it works! If I can get past the wind, that is!

[Patton struggles, trying to reach Thomas’ hand. The wind unties his cat hoodie and it flies away, but Joan manages to grab it before it gets lost. Patton can’t go any further and is pushed back, falling down. However he immediately stands up and tries to reach Thomas again. After some heavy struggle, he manages to grab Thomas’ hand. At that moment, the wind stops, Thomas stops screeching and he shows a neutral, emotionless face. The glow in his eyes disappears, then his eyes start flickering in the colors green and blue. Finally, they go completely blue and he shows a peaceful face, while his eyes start glowing in blue]

PATTON: Is that you, Light Master?

LIGHT MASTER: [speaking through Thomas’ body] Yes, it’s me, thank you for giving me the strength to rein the Dark Master in for the time being.

PATTON: What is happening with Thomas?

LIGHT MASTER: I’m ashamed to admit it, but I underestimated the Dark Master’s power and maybe forcing him to join me in the Mind Palace Core was a bad idea after all. He’s trying to take control of Thomas as he always intended to do. He can’t take control completely while I’m here, but he’s trying to overcome me and we’re in a constant fight.

PATTON: Is there anything we can do to help you?

LIGHT MASTER: Not much, unfortunately, you can’t get into the Core, as that would destroy you. This is a fight I must do on my own, and I promise you I’ll never stop fighting him.

PATTON: But why is this happening to Thomas right now?

LIGHT MASTER: It’s everything that is happening in the outer world lately. The quarantine, the injustices in America and the rest of the world, the people that is suffering and dying for so many different things, the racism, the virus, the denial of healthcare… Thomas is losing hope and that is threatening the equilibrium in the Mind Palace. To put it in words easier to understand, it’s like he’s starting to believe that evil in this world is stronger than good, at least at the present moment, and as a result he’s starting to surrender to his evil self, making the Dark Master stronger than ever since he was “defeated”.

VIRGIL: There has to be something we can do!

LIGHT MASTER: Thomas is gonna need all the help in the world. Both from his Sides and from his friends in the outer world. He needs to be reminded of how much good there still is in his life and how much there is still in this world worthy to fight for. It’s not gonna be a quick process, so you must work on it on the long term, and the Dark Master will never lose his influence completely, as you already know, but the more you can lift his spirits up, the stronger his good self will be. Also, Roman is endangered.

VIRGIL: [scared] Endangered?

REMUS: [also scared] Wait, what is happening to my brother? [noticing Roman’s face of emaciation] Roman, what’s wrong?

LIGHT MASTER: You’ve seen how he is right now. Roman mentioned that he was starving. He intended to say figuratively, but unfortunately, he’s literally starving and no ordinary food can help him, he needs to feed on clean bright fantasy to save himself. If Thomas doesn’t regain the spirit he used to have, Roman will slowly get weaker and weaker until he’s no more.

REMUS: But I’m not feeling weak or starving at all? We are connected, anything that happens to him will happen to me. Why am I not as emaciated as he is right now?

LIGHT MASTER: As a matter of fact, Remus, you are endangered too. You’re not feeling the same as Roman because you don’t take care of Thomas’ hope, that’s all entirely Roman, and you’ve got plenty of dark fantasy to feed on, but if Roman perishes, as you know, you will perish too.

ROMAN: [weak voice] I’m sorry I’m dragging you into this, brother. I wish I could be stronger.

REMUS: [grabbing Roman’s hand with a face of determination] Never mind… we’ll figure something out.

LIGHT MASTER: And I’m sorry I keep on bringing bad news, but there’s more. If Roman and Remus perished, a new Creative Side would be created in the Core as Thomas needs Creativity in his life, but it wouldn’t be Roman or Remus, and of course, if Roman dies, Sandersia, and all its inhabitants, would disappear too, including Roland, your newly found Sandersian friends and the Sandersian body of Ira, who would be condemned to turn back into a Green Sprite again. So there are lots of lives at risk. You mustn’t fail, guys.

JOAN: We’ll do our best, at least our share of the task. Thomas is our best friend and we love him, we won’t let him down on this one.

JANUS: And we’ll also fight for him, like we’ve always done. You can count on us, Thomas. You too, Roman.

LIGHT MASTER: Thank you, Joan, thank you Janus. Thomas is very lucky of having such good and unconditional friends. Now I must go, my fight is never ending and I must continue the struggle. Don’t worry, after the boost of energy Patton has given me, Thomas will be okay after I’m gone, the Dark Master won’t take control of him at least for some time. Farewell, Joan. Farewell, Sides.

PATTON: Farewell, Light Master. Thanks for your advice.

[Patton drops Thomas’ hand. Then Thomas’ eyes turn back to brown]

THOMAS: Thank you, Patton. I was… so full of irrational anger and hatred. It was horrible. Thank you for rescuing me.

PATTON: [suddenly weak voice] You’re welcome, kidd… [Patton suddenly loses balance. Thomas and Logan grab him before he falls down] …oh…

LOGAN: [concerned] Patton, what’s wrong with you?

PATTON: It’s okay, my love. I’ll be all right. I just gave a lot of energy to the Light Master so that he could fight the Dark Master more efficiently. That was the plan, after all, and it worked. Now I’m feeling exhausted, but I’ll be okay in a couple of minutes if I rest. Let me sit down on the couch and I’ll be good as gravy in no time.

THOMAS: I hope so, I don’t want two Sides sick at the same time.

[Logan and Patton sit down next to Roman and Virgil. As the couch is now full, Janus summons two more couches on the sides of the existing couch and everyone sits down]

ROMAN: I’m sorry you guys had to interrupt your honeymoons…

REMUS: Don’t sweat it. Your health is more important, Ro. Many lives depend on it, including mine.

JANUS: And Thomas’ health is important too. If you need us, we’ll stay around. We’ll need to form a plan of action to lift Thomas’ spirits up. It’s time for me to get back to work as your self-preservation, Thomas, and I’m coming in full strength.

JOAN: I’ll also get in contact with Dahlia, Dominic and the others. You better get ready for a good long Zoom call session. You’re gonna have a big bunch of Dahlia’s corny jokes until you can’t handle them anymore. And you know Dahlia has a lot of those jokes… and if they run out, she’ll find more.

THOMAS: [smirks] Yes, I know… Thank you guys, all of you. I don’t know what I would do without you. By the way, Roman, Virgil, where is Chris?

VIRGIL: Don’t worry, Chris has already got out of hospital, and he’s back to his bedroom in our room. Ian is taking care of him right now. He’ll be fine.

THOMAS: Still, he should know what’s going on with you, Roman.

JANUS: It’s okay, Thomas. Ian knows everything through our shared memory. At this point he’s informing Chris.

THOMAS: Okay, glad to know. Thanks, Jan.

REMUS: I hope you switched him off from your memories while we were out on our honeymoon. I mean, I personally don’t mind that he saw everything we did, outdoors and… [mischievous smile] indoors, but I wouldn’t want to disturb your brother… more than on average.

JANUS: [nervous] Remus, please, leave that topic for when we’re alone. And yes, I switched him off at those moments…

REMUS: [wiggling his eyebrows, with a naughty smile] Do I see blushing on your cheeks? Don’t tell me you’re embarrassed of talking about it. Come on, we’re all experienced adults in this room and I’m not so bad at that, am I?

JANUS: [a little angry voice, his human cheek now blushes heavily] Remus, the problem is that you’re… excessively good at that, so much so that I can’t keep up to your rhythm. And this conversation ends right here. We may be adults here, but there may be younger viewers watching, and maybe we can’t stop you from saying what you want whenever you want, but not even you could escape the power of outer censorship of this work of fiction, so zip it!

THOMAS: [face of shock, stuttering] Yes… please… I… I beg you… too much inappropriate innuendo… and too much meta too… [clears his throat] Okay, back on track. What are we going to do to help Roman in the short term? We can’t leave him like this, in this condition.

VIRGIL: Don’t worry, Thomas. I’ll take care of him. We’ll be heading to our room and I’ll make sure he takes some time to rest.

ROMAN: I don’t want to be a burden to you…

VIRGIL: “In health and disease”. I vowed to be there with you, and I’m fulfilling my vow, just like you would if it was me standing there sick, right?

ROMAN: I love you, Virgil. Did ever tell you that?

VIRGIL: Yeah, you did, but it never stops lifting my spirits up, so keep saying it, please.

[Roman holds Virgil’s hand and looks at him with the most loving glance in the world. Virgil kisses his forehead and then Roman kisses Virgil’s hand, with a tear rolling down his now dark purplish cheek]

THOMAS: Guys, when you give each other so much love… I feel so good and complete…

ROMAN: Thank you, Thomas, for rejoicing in our happiness.

THOMAS: It’s more than that. Before you all started dating, there were times in my life were I felt… I don’t know… alone in the dark, like there were times were I despised myself, and I know I have no reason to do that, but self-love is so hard to achieve and… [gasp of realization] …wait a minute, I think I get it. [smiles] Your love for each other, guys… feeds my self-love. You guys are me, so you guys loving each other is me loving myself. I…

[Thomas gets emotional and he starts crying]

ROMAN: I had never thought of that before… but you’re right. If we are you, our love for each other is your love for yourself. Wow, it’s beautiful if you put it this way.

PATTON: It also helps that we all love you, Thomas and we’d to anything for your well-being.

THOMAS: [cleaning his eyes] Sorry, guys, I got overwhelmed by emotion. I love you too, guys.

JOAN: We, the ones that are not part of you, love you too, Thomas, if I’m allowed to say it. I hope that helps you too in your quest for self-love.

THOMAS: Thank you, Joan, it really does. I’m happy to count on your friendship as always. And you know what? I’m feeling more hope than before already. Still not feeling perfect by any means, [singing the song from Tangled] “but at last I see a light”. Wow, it may be true that thing the Beatles said, that “all you need is love”.

ROMAN: It may be true, Thomas. I’m already feeling a little stronger, [singing the same song from Tangled] “and it’s like the sky is new”. Still have a long way ahead until I feel recovered, [theatrical princely voice] but we’ve started walking it. And nothing will stop us. Our adventure has only begun, and we’re gonna be victorious, both of us!

THOMAS: That’s the spirit, Roman. Now, to get some rest and gain strength to keep on walking. [to the camera] And to all of you out there, I hope you all find ways to work on your self love too. You don’t need to have Sides like I do, just remember that you are loved, that you are capable of loving, and that you are worthy of love too, and then you’ll be ready to start loving yourself, I know it’s not easy, but just one step in front of the other, and we’ll get there. Until next time, take it easy, guys, gals and non binary pals. Peace out!

[ending card]

[Thomas is in his living room, in front of his computer. He’s having a Zoom call with Joan, Talyn, Dominic, Dahlia and Kenny]

THOMAS: Wow, guys, I really missed this.

DAHLIA: Well, it’s not like you don’t already know we’re here for you. You can call us by videochat any time you need.

KENNY: Yes, you can count on us for any cyber-reunions like this one. I also miss all of my friends.

DOMINIC: Yes. We should try to make another video together like this. Thomas, Joan, you’ve got to think of something.

JOAN: I have already something in mind… but I need time to make it work. I’ll call you when it’s ready.

DAHLIA: Yeah, and in the meantime you can always count on your other friends, right, Tho…? [notices she’s messed up and covers her mouth]

KENNY: [confused] Other friends? What other friends? What did I miss?

[Dahlia looks at Thomas with a face of guilt, like apologizing without words. The other friends and Thomas show an awkward face]

KENNY: Guys… I suddenly feel like you all know something that I don’t. It’s fine if you want to keep it to yourselves, but this is making me feel a little weird.

[Logan appears next to Thomas, off-screen so no one in the chat can see him. Thomas looks at him with a face of angsty questioning, like telling him “What do I do now?” without words]

LOGAN: Well, it’s my opinion that the circle of people knowing your secret was already wide enough. But you know Kenny well. It’s your choice if you think you can trust him enough to tell him the secret. What does your heart say?

[Patton rises up too]

PATTON: I say let’s give it a try! If Kenny keeps the secret, there’s nothing wrong on him knowing, right? In fact, I would tell all of your close friends. I’d really love to be able to interact with them all, they’re all so nice people, it’s a pity we can only interact with them from within you.

LOGAN: Okay, Patton, one step at a time, let’s focus on Kenny first and we’ll make any future choices when we get there.

[Thomas nods, agreeing with Logan]

KENNY: Thomas, what are you looking at? Who are you nodding at? Is anybody there?

THOMAS: Sorry… I was having a discussion with my… friends.

KENNY: What friends? What discussion? What is going on here?

JOAN: So you’re gonna tell him? Okay, but Kenny, you must promise that you will keep the secret, for Thomas’ safety.

DAHLIA: I’m sorry you’re being forced to do so because of me, Thomas.

THOMAS: It’s okay, Dahlia. If Kenny promises to keep the secret, there’s nothing to fear, and I know I can trust he will keep this promise, right Kenny?

KENNY: And now it’s when I’m getting really confused… Okay, I promise to keep your secret, whatever that is.

THOMAS: Okay… [sighs and keeps going] Remember my videos where I portrayed different characters representing the different aspects of my one personality?

KENNY: The Sanders Sides? Yes, I do, remember that I lent you a hand to film some of the episodes. [smiles] You’re not gonna tell me now that these people are real and are living with you in your apartment right? [chuckles] That would be fun if you think about it…

THOMAS: [nervous giggle] Yes… it would be fun… [smile drops] and it is fun actually… or at least it usually is… Guys? Come here, please and show yourselves.

[Thomas makes a gesture to Logan and Patton to get closer to Thomas, and they do, getting in front of the camera and appearing on-screen. Kenny’s smile drops immediately, while the other’s friends smile nervously, timidly waving hello at the Sides]

LOGAN: Nice to meet you Kenny.

PATTON: [with a huge smile and voice of joy] Look at that Kenny Guy over there! I’m so happy to meet you at last, kiddo!

[Kenny is so in shock that he’s gone completely speechless]

THOMAS: Okay, firsts things first, don’t freak out, Kenny. I know this is gonna take some time to digest so let me tell you my… our story, but remember your promise.

[Kenny barely nods with the same face of shock, still unable to speak. Thomas sighs and starts putting Kenny up to date about the Sanders Sides]