#like I would have to wear the same brand BUT not the same sock cause obviously young rosie thought that was bad luck | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bonny-kookoo · 1 year ago

Text

Jungkook

𝐌𝐨𝐧𝐨𝐜𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐞 [Part 1/Intro]

In which Jungkook has never fallen in love before- not until you came along, at least.

Tags/Warnings: Hybrid AU, Munchkin Cat!Reader, Siberian Tiger!Jungkook, DDLG aspects but they're very mild in this chapter, Daddy!Jungkook, height difference, strangers to lovers, mild Angst, Fluff!, quiet!Reader, Model!Kook, mentions of death & grieving (but only brief), romance, manhandling, strength kink (implied), biting, hybrid behavior (scenting, marking, grooming and other)

Legth: Long ~7K words

Additional Content: None (yet)

A/N: Dinner is served, but split into multiple courses cause tumblr app can't handle this buffet.

-> Masterlist

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"And this is where most level 4 hybrids usually reside, plus a few of the more social level 5's." The CEO explains, walking into the large hall together with Jungkook and his management.

He's a little upset at some of the things he's seen until now - so many of his own kind kept in a place like this simply because they're alienated by society. "Older hybrids above the age of twenty-one statistically stay permanently in housing, so once they reach that age, they don't have to wear any identification within the facility here." The man explains further, motioning towards some hybrids who sit at a table without any collars on, some eating, others talking.

"Would it be possible to involve some of them into the campaign?" Jungkook's manager asks, while he himself takes a look around, hands in his pockets. It's not often that his hybrid senses notice anything at all- having become more or less 'dull' from lack of use, really, since he's mostly surrounded by humans in his daily life. He's not around hybrids often, so today, it's quite overwhelming.

In an exciting way though, weirdly enough.

Jungkook and his management had been thinking and planning such a campaign to raise awareness and money for hybrid care for a while now. As a hybrid himself, he's pretty vocal about his opinions on certain topics- though, of course, he can't always say what he wants to in order to stay 'brand safe' down the line.

"I wouldn't recommend it, honestly. You know, most of these-" The man motions towards the table where Jungkook can spot a very short-looking cat hybrid, sitting by herself alone with her head on the table, legs swinging around as they fail to reach the floor from the height of the bench. "-Are, like I said, either 4 or 5 on the scale, so they probably won't understand what you want them to do." He chuckles.

"What about her?" Jungkook asks, nodding towards where you sit at the table, wearing a simple cotton dress, socks and no shoes, fluffy hybrid tail hanging almost entirely unmoving down to the floor.

It's unnerving to him. As if you're lifeless.

"Very good eye. I've seen her earlier- I think she could make for a very good contrast compared to you." The manager agrees- though the CEO clearly seems not on board with idea.

"I mean, she's got a pretty face, but that's really about it." He, in Jungkook's opinion, rudely comments, making him harden his gaze at the man. "Listen, when you run a place like this, you've got to stay realistic. She's got a lot of health and social issues and doesn't really respond well at all in general, so I'd suggest we look more into the other hybrids." He offers-

But Jungkook is an untamed tiger that rarely ever listens, so it's not surprising that he just decides to walk over to you to find out for himself what this is all about. Mainly because somehow, something feels off about this whole situation- and also, because there's an odd pull he feels towards you, like he's met you before but can't remember.

When he sits down next to you, with some distance of course, you sit up- looking at him for a moment, as if you're going through the same thought-process he had just moments prior. "Hey." He greets, waving his hand a little, unsure for a moment-

Until you smile, waving back, tail starting to move now. So much for 'she doesn't respond', he thinks to himself.

"You seem pretty bored." He asks you, getting into a more relaxed position next to you, his own tail curling over his lap- something you notice with interest, it seems like. "Is there nothing to do here today?" He asks, resting his head on his hand as his elbow is perched up on the table.

You shake your head. "Never." You answer him, and he pouts in sympathy. "I want to- hm.." You seem to think hard about how to voice out your thoughts. You stutter a lot, no matter how much you concentrate- and since the careworkers here get frustrated with your speech easily, you've taught yourself to talk more shortened to avoid stuttering. "Back home. I.. go to- no.." You seem frustrated now, and Jungkook chuckles- something you might mistake for something it's not, he realizes. "Sorry. I don't talk well." You offer, but he shakes his head.

"No no, you're completely fine, take your time." He nods, and you nod as well.

"Back home." You start again, and he nods, making sure you know he's following. "I took, speaking class..es. Classes." You explain, and Jungkook hums a reply, understanding what you're talking about. "But now.. not anymore. He says- I don't need. Them. Don't need them." You explain, your own hybrid tail now curling around you as well so you can hold onto it, a clear sign of self-soothing. "Because I stay."

"I'm sure someone like you has no issues finding someone to live with." Jungkook offers, and you seem to not take it seriously. "No, really. I know a couple of people who'd love to offer a place for an older hybrid." He shrugs.

"No. I stay." You tell him, almost with a disappointed undertone- a bell suddenly ringing, making you stand up and grab your empty cup from the table. "Uhm, thanks." You say as a form of goodbye, bowing politely to him- before you follow the other hybrids into a different area it seems, leaving him alone at the table until his manager finds him later.

Now he's definitely sure something's not right here.

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The next day when he arrives, still a little sleepy, he doesn't spot you until he almost throws his stuff on top of you by accident. You're asleep in a corner, and a careworker immediately picks up on it. "I'm so sorry- she sometimes sleepwalks!" The lady apologizes, and before Jungkook can even say anything, she's already calling your name, shaking you awake. You don't even seem to realize what's really going on as the worker pulls you away- leaving Jungkook by himself, only trace of you left being a small flower shaped pillow he stares at for a moment. Your scent still clings heavy onto it- though there's a slightly burned bitter hint to it, a hint of something sad.

In a way, he doesn't know if he believes sleepwalking to be the actual reason here. His friend, Namjoon, owns a hybrid as well after all- and Jimin does this too, sometimes, because he doesn't like to sleep alone.

And later, when he's in makeup and the hybrids in the main hall close by are all eating breakfast, he's aware that the facility must be putting more effort into things than usual with him and his entire team present- because he's not stupid. A lot of the hybrids seem confused about certain things, while others flat out appear nervous and uncomfortable by the unfamiliar energy today, bad at hiding their behavior due to their lack of social understanding. Meanwhile you're almost falling asleep at the table, clearly not awake at all yet.

Or maybe you just didn't sleep well?

There's definitely something about you he can't explain. It's like there's a voice inside his head that's not his own that keeps feeding him ideas of what he could do. Maybe he could share his own food during his break with you? He also needs to make sure you get your pillow back at some point. Or he could take it home to have something of you with him-

"You've got an eye on the munchkin?" His makeup artist giggles as she does his hair. "Weird that she's here, isn't it? She doesn't seem like one that's hard to find a suiting home for." She mumbles, and Jungkook agrees with a hum. "One of the workers here told me the CEO denies all potential adoptions though." She shrugs.

"Why would he do that?" Jungkook asks, a little wary of the answer he might receive. After all, he's heard many horror stories of what goes on behind closed doors in some hybrid shelters.

"I mean, it's a rumor but-" She sighs. "-So her old owner was a retired hybrid specialist, right? He died of old age about two or three years ago, according to an employee I spoke with earlier." She explains, switching to a different comb to fix his hair into place. "But that's where it gets weird. Her old owner, right? Well he like, created a trust fund for her in case something was to happen to him, so she would be taken care of financially." She explains further what she's heard. "But, when she was given into the care of this center, apparently, the CEO took advantage of her grieving, and is now using the money for himself."

"Explains why he would want to keep her here." Jungkook mumbles more or less to himself. "Because as long as she's here.."

"He can justify using the money to cover her expenses." She finishes for him.

"That's fucked up." Jungkook says. "Is there any proof of it?" He wonders, and she shrugs.

"Well the worker said she herself is pretty vocal about it. She knows what's going on- but no one believes her, because the CEO has her under file as a category 5 even though she's not." She tells him. "I mean, it's smart. Legally speaking, nothing she says would ever be taken into consideration because of that. I remember, my aunt has a 5 who witnessed someone getting assaulted near a grocery store when they went to Busan last year. But nothing he was saying could be taken as evidence basically because the legal system is so oddly structured." She sighs.

"It's a mess, isn't it." The model talks to himself mostly, phone in his hand as he spins it around. "I tend to forget how screwed up the system really is." He says.

"Well, a lot of people tend to forget you're part hybrid as well." She giggles, finishing up. It's true- while he's got his tail and his ears, he's become a pro at acting human- ignoring his own instincts in daily life to instead cater to the broader audience of the human world rather than appealing to his own kind. "Maybe this is all a good idea. An opportunity." She offers.

"Opportunity for what?" He wonders, and she shrugs.

"Who knows."

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The more he observes and interacts with you, the less it makes sense to him how you could ever pass as a category 5 hybrid.

Sure, you've got some trouble articulating yourself, but you're also clearly aware of everything going on around you, you're very emotionally intelligent, you understand social concepts perfectly fine, and you're also pretty independent. You don't need much help with things others of your alleged category clearly struggle with.

He'd spotted you helping many of the other hybrids to button up their coats or tie their shoes (though he has to admit, your tying seemed like it was a pretty challenging task to you) or even collect the dishes and balance them perfectly fine to offer some aid to the kitchen staff at lunch. He knows what category 5 have problems with, they typically struggle with tasks like that. He's lived with one growing up, after all; the younger boy next door always coming over during the holidays because his parents were friends with his owners.

But you? No, you don't share much of those characteristics typical.

Maybe there really is some truth to those rumors going around.

"What're they doing?" He asks a janitor, who looks surprised to be acknowledged, before he watches all the hybrids as well as they all get dressed into outdoor-clothes.

"Oh, Every week they get outdoor activities, you know, to keep them healthy!" The elderly man nods. "Keeps the immune system up and running." He laughs, and Jungkook nods, agreeing. "You look like you want to go with them? If you ask Penny over there, she might let you tag along." He offers, and Jungkook decides, on the spot-

yeah, he wants to tag along.

So he finds his manager, tells him his plan- and leaves, before he can argue too much- though the man doesn't even attempt to do so, seemingly happy that Jungkook is growing friendly with you.

"Oh, careful." Jungkook says, holding the door for you as it almost closes behind another hybrid who'd forgotten to hold it himself. You look up at him, nodding, before you walk outside with him right behind you. "The janitor said you go outside every week." He attempts conversation, and you nod, in typical fashion, looking at the other hybrids in front of you holding hands as they walk behind each other in pairs.

All but you.

"You can hold mine, if you want." Jungkook tells you, and he can't help but grin a bit adoringly at the way you almost instantly take the offer, hand grabbing his as you hold onto it with confidence- your steps becoming a bit more bouncy as if boosted by his presence. It makes his own tail sway rhythmically with every step as well, especially when you all stop at a red light and he swears he can hear you purr under your breath, ears moving around to catch every noise it seems. "You're cute." He comments, and you look up at him with a smile.

"Thank you." You tell him, before you both follow the group of hybrids and the workers to a large field, most hybrids already running to get balls and other items to play with. "Do you.. sport?" You ask. "Like?"

"I do. I like sports a lot, actually." He nods, and you nod as well, watching the other hybrids. "You?" He wonders, and you huff a bit in disappointment, though you nod.

"Makes me.." Your hand goes to your upper chest, before pointing at it. "Cough." You try and explain and he hums in understanding.

"Asthma?" He asks, wondering if you know what he's talking about- and much to his surprise, you nod.

"I need, plastic..thing." You explain, hands gesturing as if to map out the inhaler as you're unable to recall the word in the moment. But the way he keeps reassuring you, keeps treating you so normally, makes you confident in communicating with him. "But- he says, no." You shake your head.

"The CEO?" He wonders, and you nod, sitting down on the grass, leading him to do so as well, though he gently points to his lap for you to sit on. "So your dress doesn't get dirty." He explains, and you nod, happily taking your seat on his thighs. The purr he feels against his chest fuels his ego like nothing ever before, his tail wrapping around him and you to lay in your lap. "I heard he's.. doing some shady stuff."

"He takes.. money." You shrug. "But, hm." You just hum, shrugging your shoulders in defeat.

"What if you got an evaluation done?" He wonders, watching the other hybrids play with you. "To gain proof that you're not a category 5? That way you could go against him, no?" He asks, but you shake your head.

"Can't." You answer him. "Only owner."

"Shit.." He mumbles to himself, remembering as well. Only an owner can actually file in to get an evaluation done- and those things are expensive, not funded by the government at all. Without an owner, you're caught in the trap- and while caught in the trap, you can't get an owner. It's like the snake that's biting it's own tail; doomed.

And right now, he's got no clue how to help you.

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"But, let's say, technically speaking.." Jungkook starts to speak between bites of food, looking at Namjoon in front of him. "I'm barely a category 2, right? So, legally, I could own a hybrid." He asks, and Namjoon seems to think about it. Jungkook could in fact be counted as a simple category one if it wasn't for his ears and tail- but that might just be because these days, he's learned to ignore his instincts rather than embrace them.

"I mean, yeah, legally speaking, you can." He offers, nodding. "But like, why would you? You never had any interest in that." He asks confused, even a bit suspicious. Jungkook has been used for his kindness before, so the older friend tends to become wary of odd things asked.

"I think.. no, I found my mate. At the Seoul care center, where we're shooting the whole campaign right now." He offers, opening his can of beer. "And I want to get her out of there. There's some shady shit going on, and I don't want her to be caught in the crossfire before I pop that bubble."

"Jungkook, that doesn't sound like a good idea at all. Pop a bubble?" Namjoon worries instantly, putting his chopsticks down. "That's seoul central care we're talking about. Their legal team is crazy good." He argues, well aware of these things.

"I know." Jungkook nods. "But the evidence is better. Listen -" He shakes his head. "I won't personally be the one to do it. But some of the staff.. they've been talking. And for good reason." The tiger hybrid explains. "Someone is gonna blow that shit up soon, and I need to get her out before that happens. Considering what that guy has been doing already, I'm pretty sure he would, I don't know, send her overseas or some shit to avoid losing access to her money." He tells his friend.

"You know I can't tell you what to do, Jungkook." Namjoon offers, pushing his leftover food towards a sleepy Jimin, who silently starts to eat next to his owner. "But.. if things go south, I'll try and help best I can." he promises, making Jungkook nod in appreciation.

"Thanks."

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It's safe to say that Jungkook is more than just friendly with you now.

He knows it pisses off the man that tries to present himself as a saint with realistic opinions on the modern way hybrids are handled- and in a way, it satisfies Jungkook deep in his soul.

You're also a lot more vibrant it seems like, visibly perking up the minute he arrives at the center every morning to shoot his photos and small videos. It's adorable to see, really; especially today, when he offers you a new pair of boots, way better suited for you than the old worn down one's you kept wearing every time you went outside. They're of soft materials, pale pastel colors, fluffy accents on the sides, and your eyes widen in wonder at the sight of them. "I hope they fit. I bought those because they have laces- so you can adjust them if the size isn't perfect." He explains to you, and you nod slowly, holding onto them like they're some form of golden treasure.

You also continue to watch him during his shoot, clearly just as interested in him as he is in you at this point.

Staff has noticed, workers have noticed, his manager has noticed, and granted, everyone's pretty happy about it. You're seemingly a very nice fit, a good balance to the otherwise rather wild and untamed tiger hybrid known to sometimes act out of line. He's clumsy with his words at times, his actions often leading to consequences he's not thought of, though he never does anything will ill intend.

Right now, he's got you back on his lap, sharing a round cream filled donut with you, your tail going wild behind you as you enjoy the sugary treat. "Say, I've got a question.." He wonders, your ears turning on your head towards him, a clear sign that you're paying attention to him. "Would you like to.. you know, maybe live together with me?" He asks, and at that, you freeze, before you turn around towards him. "I mean it. I know, you think that might not be possible- but I want to try, at least, to make it possible." He explains.

"Busy." You tell him, before you watch his manager talk to some caretakers a little further away. "It's.. hm. Don't have to." You shrug, trying to grab the last bite he's holding in his hand, just for him to hold it out of reach.

"That's not an answer though." He teases. "You can also just.. I don't know- live with me as like, a foster situation maybe? Just to see if it would work." He offers, while you whine, reaching out for his food he'd been sharing with you until now, one of his arms holding you back securely while the other holds the last piece too far away. "Answer first, kitty." He hums close to your ear, making you freeze for a second as your tail swipes from side to side in excitement. He's so close now, and if he wanted to, a kiss would just be a tiny move now.

But he behaves himself. All in due time.

"Ok." You nod, because why not? He's nice, he's your mate after all, and you like him.

What could go wrong?

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He's still irritated. You don't deserve any of this.

He hopes he might be able to get the paperwork signed- and you out of this place as soon as he can. There's technically nothing speaking against it after all; he's a level 2 at the end of the day, his hybrid side a lot less dominant than in someone like you. And while it's made him feel like an outcast for a long time, feeling like he doesn't belong neither here nor there- looking at you now, his feelings have changed.

He feels glad, for the first time, that he's the way he is.

"If she's getting too much you can just tell her to go play or something." One of the workers tells him as she'd spotted him with you still somewhat laying on his thigh, his hand comfortably resting on your shoulder while you play with his rings on his other hand. "She tends to get clingy with anybody who pays attention to her." She snickers, but he shakes his head.

"No, it's really fine." He denies her, well aware that she's been eyeing him ever since he'd gotten here the first day, and he can't hold back on his next words. "I actually think she's cute." He smiles down at you, and your cat-ears twitch at that before you look up at him, making him laugh.

"I mean.. I guess? Maybe it's a hybrid thing that you like her." She shrugs, crossing her arms. "But she's gotta move soon, your manager told me they wanna take some more shots." She says with more bite to her tone now- and in a way, it satisfies Jungkook.

He lets you rest on him for a little longer- until he pulls out something from his bag, brown paperbag containing a baked treat you know all too well.

He brings it every time, ever since you've told him you like it, after all.

"Nuh-ah." He chuckles when you instantly sit up and reach for it, turning his body a little towards you on the bench before he holds out the donut, testing the waters. And for his own amusement.

And much to his said amusement, you do exactly what he hoped you would.

Without thinking much it seems like, you lean forward to take a bite out of the sweet treat while he's still holding it- and he can't help but smile at the scene. You're so unaware of your own appeal, completely oblivious to how charming you are, and in a way, it makes him upset. You really are just a soft soul being used and nothing else- and he just feels like he's got to offer his protection.

Because you deserve it- and because he wants to be that protector.

Mostly because the connection you both have to one another is undeniable. Mates are an odd thing; but they're a real thing at the end of the day, and it's clear now that he's found his own in you.

You seem to have a moment of realization after the second bite, ears turning before your head follows as a worker says something Jungkook himself doesn't quite catch- but he knows he doesn't like it. "Hey- I'm over here." He tells you, and you look at him with a more shy expression now, almost embarrassed- letting go of his wrist as you sit back down on the bench, visibly uncomfortable. "Dont listen to them. I'm more interesting, am I not?" He teases to get your attention back, reaching out to wipe a crumb from the corner of your lips, making you smile a bit shyly to yourself.

You're so easy to catch.

"Why.." you start, seemingly thinking about your words. You do that a lot, he noticed- you either don't talk at all, or very quietly, and in a way, he's not sure if that's been something they pushed onto you in the carecenter here, or if you've always been this way. He wants to find out, that's for sure. "Why do you.. like me?" You ask, visibly unsatisfied with how you formulated that sentence. It's another proof of your difference in hybrid level compared to Jungkook.

But no matter, he will learn to understand you, until he no longer needs you to speak at all.

Jungkook simply shrugs at your question. "Maybe a mate thing. Maybe just because I like you." He answers. "I don't need to have a reason for it, though. You're a very sweet person, very likable." He tells you before he breaks off another piece of the donut, holding it out. "Now come on. Be a good girl and finish up, alright?" He teasingly tells you as he eats the other leftover piece himself, just to pull yours away from you when you reach out for it with your hand. "Nop." He chuckles, making you glare at him, tail swiping behind you from side to side, and he can't help but laugh at the scene, head thrown back.

Adorable.

Until he feels your lips brush against the tips of his fingers as you snatch the last piece of your treat from him, his gaze immediately back on you as you watch his reaction with a more challenging expression, and he can't help but be intrigued.

"I feel like it'll be a good idea. Jungkook!" His manager smiles, walking up to you both. "You've got her there already, perfect. We'd like to include her in the next few shots tomorrow, see how she does." He tells him, and Jungkook looks at you who seems visibly uncertain.

"You okay with that?" Jungkook asks, and you look at the camera set up close by with an almost fearful expression. "Dont worry. They'll tell you what to do, and I'll help as well. Or is it something else?" He asks, making you move to sit on the bench more properly, feet almost touching the floor, but not quite. He realizes what might be the problem when a staff member accidentally let's a brush fall to the floor, your ears instantly flattening for a short second from the harsh sound. "Ah- does the camera sound scare you?" And you nod at that, making his manager laugh a bit.

"Oh no, don't be scared! It's totally normal. Maybe Jungkook can show you how it works?" He says, before looking over at the careworker close to him. "My son has a hybrid too- he used to hate the sound of the microwave too until my son explained to him how it functioned." He chuckles. Jungkook remembers that. Namjoon and Jimin are an odd couple, but weirdly, they also fit perfectly.

"I don't think she'll understand that, but you can try." The careworker shrugs disinterested, clearly upset at Jungkooks lack of interest in her.

"Come on, let's have a look then." Jungkook simply tells you with no thought wasted on the woman, as he walks to the big cameras with you, Taehyung already looking your way. "Hey, can you maybe explain to her why the camera makes that noise?" Jungkook asks his friend, who nods at you.

"Its pretty loud, isn't it?" He tells you, and you nod- standing on the tips of your toes to try and see through the lens, but to no use. "You're so short!" Taehyung chuckles, and Jungkook can't help but be amused too.

"Hm, here, you can step on that." He offers, sliding an upside-down thick plastic bucket close to you to stand on; his hands instinctively on your body yo steady you as you step onto the container.

"Alright, so.." Taehyung starts to explain the camera to you, and Jungkook can't help but be thankful that his friend is clearly aware of the fact that you're not a stupid child- the photographer never oversimplifying anything, simply telling you the general mechanics to make sure you understand what's happening, that nothing is breaking or could cause any harm. And then the camera makes its distinctive sound.

Your ears still flatten for a split second, but your body makes no sign of being scared or surprised any longer. It worked.

"I can't turn it off, sadly. It's a mechanical sound, so there's no way around it." Taehyung shrugs towards his friend, and Jungkook simply nods.

"It'll be fine." Jungkook says, helping you down from the bucket as the manager says his goodbyes to the first staff. It reminds Jungkook of something in that moment he almost forgot. "Alright, go get your stuff now. I'll go change and then we can go, alright?" He asks, and you seem confused- until you seem to realize.

You're going home with him today. And tomorrow. And the day after, too.

Jungkook can't help but laugh when you dash off into the hallway to get your things, as he himself goes to change himself. He really hopes you'll like it at his place, hopefully enough to decide to stay- and if you do, all he needs are your papers signed and approved. He hates the way the system works, but he also understands it somewhat.

Even though it's clear that not everything goes exactly as it's meant to be.

But once you're with him, once he's got you safe, there will be no more of this. He'll make sure the world gets to know what's going on behind closed doors, having already discussed the plans with his management after all- and he can't deny his anticipation.

He can't wait to see that man lose all he's never even deserved to have in the first place.

But before he can even think any further about those things happening, you're pulling on the hem of his sweater to gain his attention, already dressed in scarf and coat and those fluffy boots he'd bought you yesterday- a lot better quality than those worn down things they'd given you. You deserve to be spoiled in his opinion, not tossed aside like you've been for God knows how many years- and he'll make sure that'll happen.

"Come on." He smiles at you, taking your bag for you as he walks outside the building to his car, opening the door. "We can sleep early or have some food delivered- what would you like?" He asks, getting into the car after you, the driver closing the door after him as he's finally seated next to you, seat belts clicking into place for the both of you.

You shrug as an answer, and he laughs, watching as you yawn, the tiger teasingly pointing his finger into your mouth- but he doesn't expect you to close it so quickly. While you don't bite down on it (at least not hard enough to ever really hurt), he still can't help but be affected by it. Especially when he pushes down on your lower lip, your tongue jokingly licking the tip of his finger, making him smirk at you.

Behind your innocent facade does slumber a tiny little tiger too, in a way, it seems like.

And he honestly doesn't know if he can handle having you around him like this for much longer, while not doing anything about it at all. He's already almost kissed you yesterday, and by now he knows you feel just as attracted to him as he does to you.

You're mates after all. Similar age. Technically in the same hybrid group. Nothing speaks against it.

And yet he's got to be careful. He doesn't want to end up breaking your heart if things don't go as expected- he'd hate leaving you devastated. And yet still he feels as if he'd die soon if he doesn't at least get to feel your lips on his- there's nothing wrong with at least a kiss, right? Maybe just a little further than that- his couch his comfortable after all, and he for sure won't be able to withstand the temptation of at least holding you close with you staying with him tonight. "Do you want to sleep in my bed tonight? I can take the couch, no problems." He asks you to distract himself, ground himself again and get his mind off of things-

But then you visibly pout, ears drooping down a little as you look at him almost disappointed.

"Not.. with you?" You mumble, and his gaze focuses on you again, pupils dilated as he swallows thickly.

"I mean, I won't say no." He tells you, eyes never leaving yours. "But I probably should." He says, making you tilt your head in question. Though in your eyes, in the way they sparkle mischievously, he knows you're very much aware of the implications.

"You won't." You simply smile next to him, legs stretching and tail swaying from side to side, and all he can think of is brat. There's no trace of the shy little cat left it seems like right now, as you look at him all confident and almost challenging.

And yet, he can't disagree.

He won't say no.

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

He can't describe the feeling of watching you roll around on his couch, freshly showered and dressed in comfortable clothes.

You did an almost complete flip around from your usual behavior at the carecenter, right now completely relaxed, happily purring as you nuzzle the fabric of a pillow on his couch to cover it with your scent. You're so at ease, obviously feeling safe in his home, and it makes him incredibly proud, because that's exactly what he wants to provide to you.

A safe space.

"Happy?" He asks you with a chuckle, watching as you roll over, nodding at him while laying on your back.

"We'll stay home tomorrow, you know, to spend some time together." He informs you, sitting down close to your head. His hand is pushing into the couch next to your face, and you look at it for a second, seemingly very interested in the black bracelet he's wearing- before you grab his wrist, and bite into his arm.

It surprises him more than anything, thinking he might've come off too strong- but it doesn't hurt, and you're looking at him as if you're actually expecting a reaction from him. You're not trying to hurt him. You're not angry or upset in the slightest.

It's a love-bite.

"You are the most adorable thing-" He chuckles, grabbing onto your wrists to pull you over his lap and sit you up, "-I've ever met, you know that?" He flirts, looking at you, your tail swishing from side to side behind you in excitement, before your ears turn to the sides, flat outwards, as you wiggle out of his grasp, running down the hallway into your room.

He's laughing, entirely amused by your sudden zoomies, as you peek around the corner of your door, before you hide away again, this time running into his room instead. He's watching how you suddenly come dashing out, sliding over his smooth floor on your knees protected by your thigh high socks, holding onto the edge of the backrest of the couch he's sitting on, staring up at him with wide open eyes.

It sort of invites him almost, as his hands grab your wrists again, easily pulling you up and over the back of the couch, leaving you belly down on over his lap, his arms holding you down as he nuzzles into the back of your neck, making you laugh.

You like it when he plays with you like this- proves his strength to you, his capabilities of keeping you safe. Shows you that his physique isn't just for show and anesthetics.

"You know I like you, don't you?" He wonders, and you nod easily at that, turning over on his lap, trusting in the fact that he'll make sure you don't roll off- and he does in fact make sure you don't, carefully holding onto you, and even adjusting the hem of your dress for you. "How do you feel about that?" He wonders, and you shrug, hand reaching out to play with his necklace.

"Happy." You just state, your attention clearly not entirely on him but more on your chosen toy. He notices that, takes the pendant away from your hands before he throws it over his shoulder, effectively removing it from your reach. And you don't roll like that, fingers instantly pulling on the necklace at his throat to pull it back- though he now holds your hand in his.

"Eyes up here, darling." He says, and you pout, though you comply. "Good. Now give me a proper answer." He demands, and you stretch your legs a little before going limp again.

"Happy.. really." You nod. "You're.. my mate." You tell him, and he smiles, nodding.

"That I am." He agrees, looking down at your lips before his haze moves up to your eyes again. "And you're mine." He says.

"Am I?" You challenge, making his gaze sharpen as he notices your clear intentions as you wiggle out of his lap and instead of the couch next to him, feet pushing against the outside of his thigh.

And he easily takes on your little challenge, well aware that you're no match for him at the end of the day.

It starts as nothing but slightly tickling kisses, ends of his hair brushing over your skin and making you giggle, before be chuckles, and bites at your neck. It's a lot more gentle than you thought he might be- but it's also clear that he's simply playing with you, no intent for anything more right now.

He'd live to play with you like that as well- but all in due time.

Your tail smacks loudly against the leather of the couch, his antics fueling your instincts as your ears pin back. He wonders how much you can take- until you move as well, biting his shoulder, this time leaving a clear mark that tells him you're at your limit.

Cute.

"Now there's no question, is there?" He wonders, moving around with you in his arms to hold you, kissing his mark to calm you down. "Now you're mine." He hums against your skin, and you nod, his slightly rough tongue moving over the tender spot once.

He catches himself in the act, surprised at it. He's never done that before- never, not even in past relationships. He doesn't even know why he did that, it's a little weird, no? Sure, he's a hybrid, but he's mostly human. He's never attempted to.. Groom a partner like this before.

But you don't seem bothered- in fact, you're happily purring in his arms, relaxed and comfortable.

"Yours." You mumble sleepily, yawning before you turn to cling to him, rubbing your cheek against his shirt to get your scent on him.

And he can't help but curl his tail around yours, feeling like everything has finally fallen into place for him.

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook imagine #bts jungkook x reader #bts jungkook fanfic #bts jungkook imagine #hybrid imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #bts jeon jungkook imagine

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homestuckreplay · 3 months ago

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Turning Lead Into Gold Into A Rocket Pack

(page 615-626)

9/9/2009 Wheel Spin: Character Switch Verdict: John Turns Into Problem Sleuth

9/10/2009 Wheel Spin: Parent Bad :( Verdict: Parent Kidnapped By Imps :( :( :(

There’s a fucking ROCKET PACK in this game. A blasting off, cool flame decals, doing loops around the moon rocket pack. This is an absolute game changer (if Rose and John can get it working) cause it’s kinda hard to be stuck at home when you have one of those bad boys.

But before that, John makes a sweet fort! It’s pretty good structurally, and mirrors Dave making a fort nine pages earlier (less good, but in fairness, he didn’t have sheets or dowels to work with). I remember that characters making forts and disappearing into their imaginations was a recurring feature in Problem Sleuth. It’s sweet that John and Dave are doing this at almost the same moment without consulting each other, both sharing a similar childlike whimsy while so far apart.

Not so for Rose Lalonde, who has abandoned all silliness and fun that allowed her to wear a W as a mustache, who destroys John’s fort and throws his whole dresser into the void. How’s he gonna get clean socks now?? I get that she’s in a scary situation and is trying to take control any way she can, but this disregard for John’s few possessions has gotta stop. I noticed recently that his magic chest is STILL on the roof. And it’s not like his situation is much better than hers – I say that if John wants to take a moment to enjoy a fort break, he’s earned it.

Following the fort interlude, John carves totems from a bunch of cruxite dowels. The different shapes of the totems are really fun to look at, and remind me a lot of vinyl records, with their various bumps and notches etched into the record’s groove that then turn into music when a needle (or in the alchemiter’s case, a laser) moves over it. It’s also notable that the totem that eventually becomes the rocket pack has the most mass removed from it, possibly because it has to code for four items instead of just one.

And with that, we FINALLY get started on punch card alchemy! It’s real, Rose was right when she hypothesized this back on p.157 (!!) and the possibilities are insane. The process functions very similarly to the apple from the pre-punched card – use the card on the totem lathe to carve a cruxite dowel unique to that punch code, then use the alchemiter to ‘read’ the totem with its laser and spend the required grist to create the corresponding item. When the holes are punched into a card containing the corresponding item, this object immediately shows up in the Atheneum (p.189, 620) – which is a benefit of punching the ‘right’ card, as even though you lose the original item, you get the cost information up front. When punching a card with a code for something it doesn’t contain, it’s entered as a question mark, and the grist needs to be expended to see the item.

One difference to the pre-punched card is that these codes/totems only contain the item itself, not its precursor. The apple grew from a tree with us seeing its whole creation, suggesting that the pre-punched card had extra information in its code, for an apple + tree combination. Speaking of which, I wonder if John still has the pre-punched card’s totem. It doesn’t appear in the Atheneum, so I wonder what would happen if he tried to use it again.

Rose creates a bunch of new captchalogue cards, ending the reign of the two-card sylladex (inventory of dumbasses) and pioneering the brand new two hundred card syladex (inventory of a different kind of dumbass if you’re using stack or queue). She makes a hammer and then a bouncing Slimer pogo ride, and as soon as the pogo appears, a couple imps jump up to the platform and one bounces off with it. I love this moment. The imps’ sense of harlequin mischief simply cannot be overcome.

Back to the most important thing here, the ROCKET PACK. It’s sadly inoperable, due to containing a violin (something we’ve seen in Rose’s room), a cinderblock (something that’s all over Dave’s house) and a flowerpot (something that fits pretty neatly with gardenGnostic’s chumhandle). So, a new theory: Sburb has somehow pre-indexed the houses of people who will play the game. Beta testers had to provide an address to send the discs to, so Skaianet knows which houses might play. GG has been signed up as a beta tester without their knowledge, either by a family member, or possibly by Rose.

In Sburb, the base items that can be created via alchemy are limited to 1. all items contained within players’ homes, and 2. Sburb-critical items pre-programmed by the game that will prove necessary for gameplay. These include the pre-punched card and the rocket pack – given John’s precarious location, it makes sense that flying would be a game mechanic. These Sburb-critical items probably have pre-punched cards of their own as unlockable rewards, or their codes can be learned from solving in-game puzzles.

We've only seen a few captchalogue codes so far, but they've all been alphanumeric, allowing both upper and lower case letters. While it's possible that future codes could include special characters or even wild card characters, the total number of 8-digit codes (from a set of 62 characters, order matters, characters can repeat) is over 218 trillion - specifically, 218,340,105,584,896. That's a LOT of possibilities.

From the base items, codes can be mixed in various combinations. This is where the creative aspect comes in. Some of these will be useless – like the rocket pack jammed with unrelated debris – but some will improve on their components and make something really cool. For example, John could combine a hammer with a piano and make a beautiful blunt weapon that plays Showtime whenever it bonks an imp on the head. That’s the dream.

#homestuck #reaction #im so excited about alchemy we are SO BACK the possibilities are literally earth shattering #chrono

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ninjagirlstar5 · 6 months ago

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Imagine getting the talent of the guy you absolutely despise. Yeah, that's right, Yoruko is the Ultimate Wizard in this Swap Talent AU.

Yoruko's was fun to tackle as I don't think she'd be super flashy or anything as a wizard but she'd still look very pretty as one. She may have been a hostess but she only dressed up like that cause she required to look appealing while working. But making it clear that she was a wizard was a bit...I don't wanna say "difficult" but I definitely had to consider how she would dress herself up as a wizard as I didn't just want to put her in a witch hat and dress and then call it a day. She's not like Mikado, who simply put on a fancy hat, cape, magical mask and gloves over his regular clothes and called it a day. (And even then, he wasn't even a real wizard.) So I decided to just go off of vibes when approaching this design: I gave her a sleeveless sweater, a long skirt with a split (I might change that split design though the next time I draw this Swap Talent AU), boots with dark socks, made her bow MUCH bigger, a single glove with a bracelet that has a gem hanging off of it (most likely to help her control her magic), a shawl and some glasses to both reference her real self's sprite design and to put emphasize on her smart looks when it comes to magic. I also changed her ponytail to a big side braid as it symbolizes wisdom and I tend to think of braids as a sort of wizard-y kind of hairstyle. Fun fact: I used heart shapes to make her hair. ^^ The butterfly tattoo on her arm is kind of a brand or a symbol to what kind of magic she specializes in, which in her case, I'm thinking is probably transformation magic, a kind of magic that's exactly what it says on the tin: she can transform any object or person into another thing, although there's probably limitations. Like, for example, she can't turn a living being into an inanimate object and the more complex the object/living being is, the less time that thing will remained transformed. (Basically, if she changed Nikei - clothes and all - into a frog for annoying her, he'll only remain as a frog for a couple of hours at most and will wear off with time.) She can also make simple changes like turning her black hair to pink. Hey, why use hair dye when you can literally just use MAGIC to change her hair itself? That being said, that's probably the only physical change in her appearance that she made. I don't think Yoruko is the kind of person to make any DRASTIC changes, just small, simple ones. Especially since she tends to copy people she looks up to a lot. Anyways, I changed her color palette from gold and blue to gold and lilac since purple is associated with power and since an Ultimate Wizard would be pretty powerful in raw talent and, well, power, I thought it would suit Yoruko a bit more although I made the colors far softer and gentler than Mikado's darker and murkier cape and hat. Yoruko isn't perfect but she tends to have her heart in the right place most of the time, unlike Mikado, who is...Mikado. And so, Yoruko is done and wow she is a pretty wizard.

Next up is Syobai!

Okay, coming up with background story beats for Yoruko and how she came into her talent is...interesting, to say the least. Like, for starters, the talent wasn't even real in the first place. It was just AIkado fucking around in the Neo World Program thanks to his administration access and to be as powerful as he can be in contrast to his "fellow students." A show of power without revealing where they really are. To be honest, I don't see Yoruko being given any kind of administrative access from Mikado if the main story were to remain the same, just with swapped talents, unless he had made her into an AI/program and frankly, I'm not interested in approaching this background like she IS a program. So I'm just gonna ignore the fact that magic isn't actually real in the DRA/SDRA2 version of the Danganronpa timeline and say that it does, in fact, exist. And hey, if ghosts can be canon in Despair Girls, why can't magic? (This also probably means that the age twist wouldn't work cause they're not in the Neo World Program and it'd be impossible to de-age them like they were in the original story, at least in this version of events. But since magic is real...well, regardless of Mikado's swapped talent, he'd probably delve into Necromancy just to see if he can bring back Utsuro thanks to Yoruko's talent confirming that magic does indeed exist. Oops.)

Anyways, for Yoruko's background, she would have never became a hostess if she had never met her Senpai, who saved her from a group of bullies that were going too far and nearly could've killed her. I think in this version of events, the reason for her Senpai, Amane, to intervene was twofold: 1.) because it was the right thing to do and she couldn't stand watching the same thing that happened to her happen to someone else, and 2.) because she noticed there was magic building up around Yoruko and realized that there was going to be an outburst that could easily injure, or worse, kill these bullies and intervened to keep it from escalating. She knew that if that were to happen, Yoruko would forever be haunted by this event and she couldn't stand by and watch her younger classmate become fearful of her own power. So she helps Yoruko and befriends her, trying to subtly train her in her magic without revealing that she has it and to keep it concealed. The bracelet Yoruko has is to help her keep control over her magic without it bursting and creating havoc whenever she loses her temper or when survivor instincts kick in in a way that would hurt others when she didn't mean to. She thinks that, for Yoruko, ignorance would be bliss. At least, at the start. But eventually, Yoruko hears rumors about Amane being a "witch" or doing "creepy rituals at night" and she's like, "Pfft, yeah, right. Like magic ever existed...right?" She didn't think it was true, but when the thought of the rumors covering up something more insidious that Amane couldn't get out of, she caves into her suspicions and follows her one day after school to prove to herself that it's nothing like that. And it wasn't! But she does end up witnessing a magical ritual where Amane easily repaired a valuable object that seemed irreparable with how many pieces it had been turned into or how she helps a plant regain it's vigor and color. So, the rumors were a lot more truer than everyone thought it was and she kinda freaks out. Which was enough for her to get caught by her Senpai and she begs for mercy. But her Senpai is quick to reassure her that she's not going to hurt her and admits the truth: she's an actual wizard and probably one of the last ones left...at least until she met Yoruko. It's then that she also revealed that one of the reasons why she approached Yoruko was because of her magic and how it was this close to hurting someone, which she had a feeling that her younger classmate would regret. Yoruko would try to deny it at first but when her Senpai takes the bracelet off, her magic starts to sizzle out from her due to all her anxiety and ends up cracking a mirror. Hit with the reality that she was the same as Amane, she questions why no one had noticed and Amane just...tells her to sit down.

You see, if wizards/witches and magic really do exist in Danganronpa, you'd have to question why this wouldn't be common knowledge in this universe, especially with a world based off of real life and the real history we've been through. Some people's solution to this is to make a secret society, but that actually crops up OTHER issues like how some humans would react to actual real world events like, you know, war and such, and how many of them would probably try to use their magic to stop it or make it worse, and how difficult that would be to keep that a secret when such events happen. But honestly, I think there's a much simpler solution in this case: wizards are just...a dying breed in the modern world, for lack of a better word I could think of. If they were common place back then, then most of them had been hunted down and killed due to their power in magic scaring society. That's Amane's assumption, at least. According to her, even she doesn't know enough about magic and it's own history. Just that if no one believes that magic actually exists, that it's just a fictional part of storytelling or folklores, then the real history of magic had nearly all but disappeared from existence. Even Hope's Peak never had an Ultimate Wizard before since it's existence. There just isn't enough people to even be considered a group, and to Amane...she considers herself to be one of the few wizards left in this world. Assuming there are more of them out there.

Yoruko questions how the hell she even came to realize her own power, and Amane simply says that she was just lucky that her own parents had magic as well and were far more equipped to handle her magic when it became obvious that she had it. When Yoruko questions how the hell her own family never noticed, Amane simply asks if they had magic, and if they did, she should think back on the times when strange things were happening around her while growing up, if she ever got blamed for something that seemed out of her control, and how they handled it. If they had magic, would those signs have gone under their radar? After a pause of Yoruko thinking back on her childhood, on the times when she managed to jump higher than should've been possible when playing tag, on the times when a kid blamed her for getting hurt when they tripped on a root that wasn't there before and thought she had pushed them, on the time when she tried to blow out a candle when her group of friends brought her a birthday cake but somehow the flames grew bigger instead and accidentally set the table on fire, and how everyone started to avoid her for being "accident-prone" and becoming more and more pessimistic in her life in response, she realized, no, they didn't have magic. Yoruko's parents, and perhaps even her sister, were normal people that simply tried to comfort and support her when things went wrong, never realizing the power their daughter/sister had in her all along. Yoruko asks how that's even possible, and Amane simply shrugs, admitting that even though she and her parents had magic, her younger siblings did not. She may have theorized that wizards had been hunted down and killed, and for all she knew, she may be right since witch hunts WERE a thing, but it could also possibly be because magic was a gene and humans just...stopped needing a use for it over time and wasn't being passed down by the majority anymore. It doesn't mean it can't crop again, like what happened with her and her parents and even Yoruko, but that also meant that the majority of people born with magic are more likely to end up with a family that may not understand what's going on with them, let alone figure it out. Like what happened with Yoruko since, according to her, neither of her parents nor her sister seemed to have magic like her. Again, Amane didn't know enough about magic's history and even her parents knew jack shit, gravitating towards each other because of their shared issues and only then realizing that what they were dealing with was magic. All their learning was pretty much trial and error, which they passed down to her.

Yoruko...has no idea how to feel about all of this. On the one hand, learning that she has magic is almost...freeing, in a way. An explanation for the many things that just shouldn't have happened in normal circumstances but did. But on the other hand, she had a power that could hurt others. Kill others. That kind of power would be terrifying for Yoruko. What if she messed up? What if someone got hurt because of her? But Amane, ever kind and patient, calms her down, saying that she doesn't have to go through this alone. Not anymore. Not as long as she's around, and she offers to teach her to control her magic and even give it a use. If that's what she wants, at least. Amane reminds her that as long as she wears that bracelet she gave her, her magic would never get out of control, even when she uses it as an outlet to better direct what kind of magic she's using and such. She can easily return to her normal life if that's what she desires most and apologizes for leaving her in ignorance. But Yoruko, knowing that Amane may be the only one that can understand these magic-related issues in a way no one else would and wanting to stay by her side, accepts. After that, Yoruko spends months, perhaps even years, learning from Amane and even teaching her new things as well since she's still learning more about magic herself. Learning together, working together, and helping each other when the other is down helped Yoruko become just as skilled of a wizard like Amane, perhaps even better.

But one day, Yoruko would ask Amane why she has new things to repair almost every day. She would laugh awkwardly, admitting that she kind of turned her magic into an independent job by repairing people's most valued objects in exchange for cash. When Yoruko asks why she has to do that, for the first time, Amane grows quiet...and admits that her parents actually passed away in a car accident a few years back. She's not sure if they had no relatives or if they somehow became a black sheep to their relatives due to their magic, but no one took her or her siblings in so it was either being stuck in a system that may separate them all or try to take matters into her own hands. Clearly, she chose the latter as she's able to take care of both herself and her siblings through her magic, and even gained a reputation of sorts. A reputation that she really hopes doesn't take the notice of Hope's Peak cause as much as she wished there were more people like her, she knows better than to let the world know that such powerful magic exists. She doesn't want to think of the consequences that could entail from it. Yoruko agrees but is also surprised as she had never realized that Amane is dealing with a lot more on her plate than she admits. She simply says that she didn't want to burden Yoruko at the time since her teachings were much more important and she had managed this far, it's just...well, it's become a bit harder to find commissions lately and she's worried she may not be able to pay the bills in time. Yoruko rebuts, though, saying that she may be her mentor but she's also her...friend, and it wouldn't be fair if she just vented all her feelings to her but never allowed her to do the same. She even asks if she could help, which surprises Amane for moment but then...she agrees. She even says it would be a good opportunity to teach Yoruko how to repair objects from scratch as it's a pretty handy spell to know for daily life, although it's much more complicated for something that's to have a more permanent effect than Yoruko's usual transformation spells.

Looking back on it now, Yoruko wished her Senpai had turned her down. If only to avoid what happened next.

Amane had asked her to set up the chalk circle and candles while she double checks the book. Yoruko wasn't sure what she had messed up back then, especially under Amane's watch. Did the candles not have the correct properties? Did she make such a small, tiny mistake in the chalk circle when messing up just a smidge could change it into a different spell entirely? Or did she overdo it with her magic as she followed her Senpai's instructions in staring at the original photo of the object and visualizing what it should look like as she imbued the object with the spell?

Regardless of what the mistake was, magic was the embodiment of chaos, not logic, and only bends to it's own rules. And Yoruko, despite doing her best, messed up and turned the object into dust.

Shocked by what had just happened, Yoruko tries to apologize and even says that maybe they could still try to fix it but Amane just stared at the remains of the object in silence before saying that this can't be fixed. All the pieces had been destroyed and now it's impossible to fix it at all. She tried before, but couldn't, and had to bring the bad news to her customer, getting hit with a refund soon afterwards. Yoruko apologizes again, quieter, but this only gets Amane to snap at her, blaming her for losing the paycheck she could've used to help her and siblings from this one commission. In hindsight, she probably shouldn't have allowed Yoruko to work on a commission the first time trying out this spell as it's only natural for her to mess up on her first try, but she was too angry and distraught to realize her own misjudgment in this situation and Yoruko is too hurt and upset to try and defend herself. She just constantly apologizes as she leaves, hoping that by removing herself from the situation, it would allow Amane some space to calm down.

By the time Yoruko worked up the courage to talk to her again, though, she couldn't find Amane at school and finds out through her teacher that she had to pull out for the time being. Horrified by the implications, Yoruko runs back to the hideout, only to find the mess had been cleaned up with a stack of books left on the desk and a letter on top of it. When she opens it up, it was an apology from Amane snapping at her, saying that she shouldn't have done that and some of the blame was hers as well for making the wrong call in judgment. Still, due to her current circumstances, she could no longer stay in school and had to go searching for a second job, bringing her siblings along with her as she admits to moving away. The letter tries to reassure Yoruko that this was probably going to happen anyway due to the lack of commissions, but she's not internalizing that, instead blaming herself for forcing her Senpai into a position where she had no choice but to move away. When she gets to the bottom of the letter, her Senpai reveals that while she can no longer teach Yoruko due to both her own circumstances making it hard to meet up anymore and Yoruko simply being better than her at magic at this point, at least according to her, she left her all the books and research both she and her parents had done over the years in her care. She expresses the hope that she'd still continue to study and research magic so that maybe, one day, when they meet up again, they can understand their shared magical history together. Yoruko, still racked with guilt, chooses to do just that, taking responsibility for her actions by continuing her studies in magic.

And then, perhaps a few months or even a year later, Hope's Peak comes knocking at her door via a letter proclaiming that they know her secret and wish to bring her into the school to study her talent as the Ultimate Wizard. And if she doesn't, they'll out her to a government agency and have her be taken away. Worst of all, Hope's Peak is still tied to the government themselves, even when they lacked funding, so it's basically a "damned if you do, damned if you don't" situation. So Yoruko decides her only option was to "willingly" join Hope's Peak Academy's newest class so she can have more freedom, and perhaps, more control over what they learn about magic. If she has to be forced out of hiding and reveal that magic exists, she'd doing it her way in the hopes that she can at least try to give guidelines on how it should be treated and worked with.

Too bad she ends up in a killing game, but hey. It was an effort, at least. And to keep her from being too overpowered in the killing game, Mikado probably set up some kind of magic-negation objects that keeps her from blowing him up on sight. After all, she does still have her bracelet that both negates her own magic and helps her control it, and doesn't actually require magic to create. Some gems simply have magic-negating properties. And HE learned this from HER during their time at Hope's Peak, even if she doesn't realize it due to the collective amnesia plot point. Oof.

#SDRA2 #Yoruko Kabuya #Super Danganronpa Another 2 #SDRA2 Spoilers #sprite edit #Star's Art #my God I literally just made an entire essay on Wizard Yoruko #My brain has more capacity for pretty women I guess

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my-chaos-radio · 1 year ago

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youtube

Release: August 29, 2012

Lyrics:

Hey Macklemore? can we go thrift shopping?

What, what, what, what

I'm gonna pop some tags

Only got twenty dollars in my pocket

I, I, I'm hunting, looking for a come-up

This is fucking awesome

Nah walk up to the club like, what up, I got a big cock!

I'm just pumped, just bought some shit from the thrift shop

Ice on the fringe, it's so damn frosty

The people like, Damn! That's a cold ass honkey.

Rollin' in, hella deep, headin' to the mezzanine

Dressed in all pink, 'cept my gator shoes, those are green

Draped in a leopard mink, girls standin' next to me

Probably shoulda washed this, smells like R. Kelly's sheets

(Piss)

But shit, it was ninety-nine cents! (Bag it) Coppin' it, washin' it

'Bout to go and get some compliments

Passin' up on those moccasins someone else's been walkin' in them

Bummy and grungy, f*ck it man, I am stuntin' and flossin' and

And savin' my money and I'm hella happy that's a bargain, bitch

I'ma take your grandpa's style, I'ma take your grandpa's style

No for real ask your grandpa can I have his hand-me-downs?

(Thank you) Velour jumpsuit and some house slippers

Dookie brown leather jacket that I found diggin'

They had a broken keyboard, I bought a broken keyboard

I bought a skeet blanket, and then I bought a kneeboard

Hello, hello, my ace man, my Miller

John Wayne ain't got nothing on my fringe game, hell no

I could take some Pro Wings, make them cool, sell those

The sneaker heads would be like Aw, he got the Velcros

I'm gonna pop some tags

Only got twenty dollars in my pocket

I, I, I'm hunting, looking for a come-up

This is fucking awesome

I'm gonna pop some tags

Only got twenty dollars in my pocket

I, I, I'm hunting, looking for a come-up

This is fucking awesome

(Goodwill, poppin' tags, yeah!)

What you know about rockin' a wolf on your noggin?

What you knowin' about wearin' a fur fox skin?

I'm digging, I'm digging, I'm searching right through that luggage

One man's trash, that's another man's come up

Thank your granddad for donating that plaid button-up shirt

'Cause right now I'm up in her skirt

I'm at the Goodwill, you can find me in the (Uptons)

I'm that, I'm that sucker searchin' in that section (Uptons)

Your grammy, your aunty, your momma, your mammy

I'll take those flannel zebra jammies, second-hand, I rock that motherfucker

The built-in onesie with the socks on that motherfucker

I hit the party and they stop in that motherfucker

They be like, Oh, that Gucci. That's hella tight

I'm like, Yo that's fifty dollars for a T-shirt

Limited edition, let's do some simple addition

Fifty dollars for a T-shirt, that's just some ignorant bitch (Shit)

I call that getting swindled and pimped (Shit)

I call that getting tricked by a business

That shirt's hella dope

And having the same one as six other people in this club is a hella don't

Peep game, come take a look through my telescope

Trying to get girls from a brand? Then you hella won't

Then you hella won't

I'm gonna pop some tags

Only got twenty dollars in my pocket

I, I, I'm hunting, looking for a come-up

This is fucking awesome

I wear your granddad's clothes

I look incredible

I'm in this big ass coat

From that thrift shop down the road

I wear your granddad's clothes

I look incredible

I'm in this big ass coat

From that thrift shop down the road

Is that your grandma's coat?

I'm gonna pop some tags

Only got twenty dollars in my pocket

I, I, I'm hunting, looking for a come-up

This is fucking awesome

Songwriter:

Ben Haggerty, Ryan Scott Lewis

SongFacts:

👉📖

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nathank77 · 7 months ago

Text

4/19/24

3:46 a.m

I bought 12 more pairs of Nike Socks and 12 more pairs of boxers. I went to XXL for the boxers bc I wanted them to be extra comfy and I'm always worried that I'm going to get fat from Methimazole. The XL fit nice with a little room but so did the mediums that eventually got too tight and stretched out.

I'm done buying boxers and socks for a while.

Boxers=24 pairs of Under Armour. I prefer them over Adidas cause of the band being loud and proud stamped in big letters and bc they don't have as many seems. Adidas had seems on the butt that I felt when I was gaining weight. Under armour has very little seems. And I mean I'm not going to lie I like representing brands as a poor person.... I look less poor.

Socks=18 pairs

This is all total obviously with my last purchase. I still want to buy those shoes. I'll be able to afford everything bc of credit cards and pay it all off with no interest. Not the shoes. I got to think about those. As my eyes pop out hearts everytime I see them.

Soon I'm going to have to worry about t-shirts as I have like none that fit me that arent ratty, I have 3 shirts that look nice... and I only have one pair of jeans and 3 pairs of shorts that aren't basketball shorts.

I bought 3 packs of these. I already have one pack and I love the camo. Also basic silver/gray and black is nice. I like that the lettering is highlighted and stands out on all pairs. My favorite camo combo is gray and black and I just love them.

I got one set of these:

I already own 2 sets of these. My favorite colors are black, red and blue. I like black as the base color and red or blue as the highlighter color.

Red and black may be better than blue and black depending on hue. I didn't buy any blue ones in all these 24 pairs I'm getting :( but tbh I didn't like the options much and I find the black one with the red band to be perfect. I don't like the red ones as much cause they lack the color in the under armour logo on the band.. that would be the one thing I'd fix if I could. The graphic one is cool I love the band.

These socks are comfy, I'm excited cause I want to do my laundry every 6 days so I never have to wear any of my others.

I'm doing laundry for that exact reason atm.

Now I got to worry about t-shirt eventually but who cares if they are stained and tattered. I mean I don't leave the house much.

Jeans got to be a thing eventually but again I don't leave the house much.

I still got to get those shoes but I'll wait and see how everything adds up.

Glasses are still a thing but I really truly don't want to even worry about them, one pair for 300$ to a poor person is like, you're joking right? All I got to do is drop them. They are 1/3rd of my monthly income. I'm just wearing arons. They aren't that uncomfortable.

I found these shoes my cousin gave me they are 9 1/2, I'm a 9... I might wear them sometimes, I was trying to sell them on ebay but they are kinda ugly. She bought them for her son and he wouldn't wear them bc they were ugly lol they will be a nice shit pair. They are laced up tight bc I'm truly a 9.

As for Saturday, I'm going to wear my nice Adidas either the red/black ones or the black/white ones. I'm going to wear my Aron glasses, silver gauges, jeans or shorts depending on the weather and my billabong shirt under my champion hoodie. I don't wear my champion hoodie around the house bc its nice so it has no stains yet. It isn't tattered. My billabong shirt is old. It says New York on it, cause I got it from New York. It's older and a little tattered but it's one of my only nice shirts that fit...

This is why I overcompenstate with brands.. they last longer. When you buy Walmart shit it turns to trash in 5 months. Or even 5 washes.

Anyways that's what I'll be wearing, the same outfit I wore to the Brass Mill Mall. I'm excited to potentially wear my new shoes in nice weather. I'm excited about my kohls purchase.

I'd be excited about my glasses if I could get a pair that fit but I mean these arons aren't that bad I'm getting use to the pressure behind my ears.

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bumblely · 1 year ago

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Hey! I find your post about Pierre's outfits interesting to read, to me he always looks good and I enjoy him trying different styles and looks, but it's fun to read other people's opinion on his outfits 😁 I was just wondering, since you blame his stylist for the not so good outfits, what if Pierre actually liked and chose those looks? Pierre has always said he is very into fashion so I don't think he just wears what someone tells him to, he would want to have a say in some way. So yeah I guess my question is, don't you think he should be able to wear what he wants?

hi, I believe that everyone can wear whatever they want and that there is nothing wrong with disagreeing with someone's choice or work because we all have questionable or bad outfits, even the greatest stylists and designers during their fashion shows. the issues with Pierre aren't the clothes by themselves but the bad fitting which make them look messy. I obviously only give my opinion on people who claim to love fashion. if Pierre likes these outfits, honestly good for him because that's the most important thing at the end of the day, to like our clothes, because it's also what makes a mid outfit looking great and a good one looking amazing; confidence and attitude.

I received a few asks regarding my post —and apparently some people (not you) took it the wrong way given what's inside my inbox at the moment— and noticed that many people liked these outfits. we all have different tastes so, once again, good for all the people satisfied with these looks 🙂

I don't follow Pierre's every step so I have to trust the people in my inbox regarding his involvement in these outfits. some believe that his stylist had to work with very little options hence the poor fitting, others that Pierre fully gives his opinion or that he just wears what his stylist decided. I have no clue 🤷‍♀️

I'm not thinking it didn't look good on him for the fun of it or because I might not like him. what I pointed out is the poor fitting on these outfits mainly caused by the fact that his stylist (and some brands) failed to adapt the clothes to his body. Pierre is a professional athlete, so he has muscles —more than models—, and isn't as tall as the models so the clothes will always look different on him.

for his LV look at the LV event:

the idea was good, I see the vision —I personally believe that there was more to do with more 'fashion' pieces— it's fresh, but the execution isn't good so it doesn't look as good as it could have been.

just see how the slight difference in fitting changes everything: the shirt is way too big on Pierre so it's not balanced. also the difference it makes at the jonction between the shirt and shorts, way neater and cleaner on the model. for the socks, as he is an athlete, his legs have more muscles, so it can't look like it did on the model; on him it gives the feeling that they're too tight and they're cutting the line of the legs. + the styling with the white t-shirt underneath.

this kind of fitting problem usually happens because brands don't have the clothes in all sizes but as small as it seems to be, it makes the look messy when it could have been way better. there is also maybe some posing skills —it's something models and celebs have to learn.

I personally prefer LV's styling with the white shoes because we focus more on the clothes when dark shoes always weight an outfit down. with high white socks and shoes, legs seem to be longer (and the model has skinnier legs and is taller so it works well —Pierre's legs are more than fine, just not everything works on every body). this kind of adaptation —from the model to the client— are supposed to be the stylist main concern as not every clothes work on every body.

for his Ralph Lauren look at Wimbledon:

I guess his look was inspired by this runway one. on Pierre, the length of his bust (the blazer) is almost the same as his legs when it's closer to 1/3 - 2/3 on the model as he is taller. the trousers are longer for the model, increasing the visual lengh of his legs and it's oversized so flowing making it look overall better.

once again, it's not a bad outfit it's even good, it's just that the fitting wasn't done properly so it looks off. to correct the problem they could have kept the blazer open, used a shorter one or a suit jacket. the trousers tightened around the ankles are worsening the situation. I know some brands/stylists do the navy blazer/brown mocassins but I'm personally not a fan of it, I would have preferred oxford shoes (but it's just personal taste here) nothing wrong with those.

for his Ralph Lauren outfit (shoes excluded) for the Louboutin show:

here as well the pieces are interesting but nothing go together, there is too much going on, hence why I called it messy. the jacket is nice and works on Pierre (he has the vibe to wear this kind of things) but it's drowned in all the brown. I love the trousers but we can barely see them and their brown don't go with the brown of the jumper. the jumper is nice too and the half tucked in shirt is good but it just doesn't work with the aviator jacket because one thing is 'boyish' (it's giving school uniform in a good way) and the other is more 'cool grandpa' (in a good way too) so it clashed with the trousers. and then, there are these super modern white and red shoes? these 3 pieces should be main character in an outfit not put together like this. and the aviator jacket is way too tight.

for these 2 Berluti outfits :

I've been told that it wasn't his stylist, nor himself but the brand —which is likely as it's a full look. I put the inspiration behind this look: heavily old money and well fitted. for Pierre they did some weird things and it doesn't look good. left one is really disproportionate, top and bottom don't work together. for the second one, nothing Pierre can do with the fabric of his blazer/trench coat(?), the white shirt is obviously way too long and the shoes the two times just don't go with the aesthetic of the outfit and bag. I don't know why the brand did that as they're selling "old money" and nothing is here.

this is why I wanted Pierre to hire a stylist or work with a new one. working with athletes is something not every stylist knows how to do as it's specific and there is nothing wrong with that. I would love to see him have a full time stylist making consistent choices though all his apparences and brands he wears/works with. there is nothing personal here against Pierre, it's just observation and details that can change everything.

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tommyspeakycap · 3 years ago

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Hi love, I adore your writing so much! And as you just asked for some ideas/concepts here’s mine for Jack Grealish from prompts list 2: fluff #11 where he’s asking her (she’s his best friend) to go for a walk cause there’s so much going on in his life and he just needs to talk. fluff #36, angst #31 and a happy ending please? Basically a Best friends to lovers thing as I’m a sap for that…thank you!! xx

Fluff #11; “I know it’s 2 in the morning but do you want to…”

Fluff #36; “because I fell for you, isn’t it obvious?”

hope I did this justice for you!

Fell for you

“Jesus god,” you grumbled with hands aimlessly palming across the mattress for the blaring sound of your phone from its place charging somewhere on the bed. Your next move is an elongated “Ahhhhh,” sound, fatigue still holding tightly onto your body in a way that seals your eyes shut even as you try to shut off the sound your phone was deafening your with. In a wakened state, you might’ve noticed that it was your ringtone that had interrupted your sleep. However as tired as you were you ruled it as your alarm right away and moved yourself into seated position with the duvet still wrapped tight around you and your eyes still shut.

You were suspended in that space between being asleep and being awake, still sitting up when the offensive sound came screaming through your phone once again.

This time, your eyes snapped open in fright and the fatigue-blurred letters of Jack Grealish’s name popped up across the top of your screen.

“How is it morning already?” You protest down the line, a heavy sigh passing your lips to follow. Jack’s chuckle can be heard through the line, “It’s not.” He replies simply, prompting you to pull your phone away from your ear to hold out in front if your face.

02:17am

“Then why on earth am I up?” You mumble, a question more posed to yourself than the man on the other end. “Wait, why are you up? And why are you calling so early?”

“I’m outside your door.”

“You’re what?!” You throw back your duvet and swing your legs over the side of the bed. You’ve hung up the phone already by the time you reach the front door at a tired shuffle. His hair is tousled when you see him, like he’s been running his hands through it over and over, you imagine that he has. He does that when he’s stressed. You have to squint against the street lights and his car headlights outside, still on as it sits running on the street. “Can we go somewhere?” He asks, his voice as desperate as his eyes look when he speaks, begging you to agree. Not that he would need to beg. You’d do anything for that man. Even if it did mean dragging yourself from your bed at 2 in the morning.

“Course.”

No question, no pressure. He loves that from you. He knows you’ll ask him later and when the time is right you’ll force him to tell you of course. Now is not that time yet and you’re nowhere near awake enough to do so much anyway. “Let me just grab my-“

“I have a hoodie in the car and your shoes in my boot.” He cuts in, tugging your arm gently out the door of your house. He knows you better than any other person in this world, so he knows full and well that there’s not much you are going to do in the way of protesting when you’re so soon out of sleep. He’d often teased with layers of worry deeper beneath that he genuinely worried for you living on your own. You open the door to people far too easily, and he will not fail to bring that up sometime tomorrow. For now, he steps into your doorway where you had stood moments before, grabs your keys from the cabinet and pulls the door closed behind him with a click of the latch locking behind him.

The cold paving stones beneath your feet make you shine in protest, shifting your weight between each one to ease the chill. In was in that cold that you look down and make the realisation, or rather come to remember the fact that you don’t have any pyjama bottoms on. “Jack!” You yelp, “I’m not wearing trousers!” You suddenly feel very exposed and rightly so, standing outside your home suddenly very awake in only a long claret and blue shirt that only extended down to the middle of your thighs. “Eh?” He whips around, “You what?”

It’s only now he really takes you in with rosy cheeks from embarrassment, your hair messed up from your sleep. His frantic eyes soften and his heart stops thundering in his chest finally. The sight of you there calms him. You’re there. Right there. His (y/n) is right there in front of him.

“What’s the rush, Jack? Is everything okay?”

Your gentle words and tired eyes bring him back to the ground, the flurry of his racing thoughts only now finally calmed. He often acts on impulse, but you are always able to slow his brain down a few paces. His sits heavily, "I know it's two am but...do you think we could go somewhere. My heads fuckin'... I don't even know." He dips back down to run that hand through his hair once again. His words stoke a bit of a worry in you, head tilted to the side in question. Jack doesn't tend to be the kind who gets himself panicked and all wound up like he has right now. That's more your half of the friendship. You did the worrying, he did the easygoing.

"It's okay, Jack. Of course. Come on then, let's go." You nod your head and he goes around the back of the car to get the shoes and socks he promised you. You very nearly choked up a lung when he presented you with a brand new Balenciaga box. "What the fuck, Jack?" You all but wheeze out, head whipping towards him climbing into the passenger seat.

"Got you a present 'cause I'm leaving soon." He shrugs with a jaw-dropping ease. You list open the lid and inside sit a pair of sliders that cost nearly £400. You physically gawp. "Oh my god."

"What?" Jack asks, drawing out of his parking spot on the street, "Heard you telling your mum you needed new sliders for the summer, do you not like 'em?"

His nerves would be clear in his voice if you hadn't been in such a ferocious level of shock. You're glad you weren't eating anything because it surely would have choked you to death. Of course you had seen Jack wearing brands like Balenciaga, Gucci, Versace and the likes, but you had never owned such an expensive piece of clothing. "I mean of course I love them, J but I meant from Primark or bloody amazon, you shouldn't have spent al that money on me." You protested, but Jack really pays it no mind. In fact, the suggestion that you don't deserve everything luxurious that this world has to offer offends him more than it does anything else. You should know that you deserve everything good that this world can give and he has the means to actually give that to you. He'd count himself an absolute fool not to.

"Gonna pretend you didn't say that." He mutters, eyes kept carefully on the empty road ahead of his car. Your eyebrows are furrowed, a part of you brain still very much trying to a) wake up and b) process the expensive of the gift he handed to you so casually. "Not arguing about it either." His voice cuts you off the second you open your mouth to speak, shutting down your protest before it even leaves you.

As the fatigue of your sleep wears off, your mind continues to be just as boggled as it had been the moment his name popped up on your screen at 2am, if not more boggled now.

"You're acting so weird, Jack. What the hell is going on with you today?" Your insistence is careful with your pressure. It's enough to try to open him up but not enough to make it sound like a confrontation. Neither you nor Jack like confrontation especially with each other. The words make him chew on his lip as he careens the large white range rover through a turn that leads up a gravel road that crunches beneath his tires. The stops when he's met with a with a large gate that prevents cars but a little slot for people to walk through. Jack leaves his door open when he leaves the car with a curtly mumbled "Stay here" as he does. He pushes open the gate with ease before he gets back in the car and follows the path up the hill further.

He stop abruptly in a very small gravel car park without any parking lines to abide and steps out, slamming his door behind him like he absolutely always does; you swear that man couldn't be quiet if his life depended on it. Which was another reason why you were so surprised by his silence. You clamber out after him with that same fear of falling flat on your face that always fills your mind each and every time you leave his car. But Jack is where he has been every time you step out the Range Rover since the first day he got it; standing by your door to hold your hand so you can jump out without a trip onto the gravel beneath. He shuts the door behind you and hands you a spare pair of his loose fitting track pants.

On an average day you might've teased the reason he hasn't worn them was because they wouldn't have squeezed the life out his legs. Today wasn't one of those days, so you slip them on without a word. Followed up by his way too big for you socks and the brand new black slides. Even wide awake, this confuses you to no end. Jack was never quiet and never elusive. He was boisterous, loud, open and confident.

The second you turn around, you realise why he brought you here.

The view of the stars, the sky completely clear. There wasn't a street lamp in sight. The moon provided the kind of spotlight hue that you kind of thought only existed in the enhancement of Hollywood movies. "Woah," you breathe, words stolen by its beauty.

"Yeah," Jack laughs, "Now you know how I feel every time I look at you."

You head turns to him so fast it sends your head spinning a little, or maybe that's just the shock of his words. You couldn't tell.

"What?"

He shrugs his shoulders, scuffing his feet along the gravel to meet up with where you stand. But he freezes before he gets the chance.

"Why are you wearing that?" He asks, a very sudden cold change in his tone that actually makes your body feel colder. "Wearing what? This?" You gesture to the claret and blue shirt you had thrown on in a haste to get to him standing at your front door a short while ago. You turn to see his unhappy scowl and the firm discontented cross of his strong arms. "Yeah that," he grumbles, "And where'd you even get it." He adds with a flare of his nostrils. He looks adorable angry like this, like he's trying so hard to look angry when his emotions lie truly elsewhere.

You look down at the shirt with furrowed brows, before you shift your shoulder forward, crane your neck and pull the material around to view the back as best you could. "What's wrong with it?" You ask finally, attempts to defy the natural state of your body failing to allow you to see your back.

"It's Ginny's." Jack states as if its the most obvious thing in the world. You just look at him bewildered. "And?"

He huffs as he takes a few more heavy steps up to you, looking like he had a lot of things to say without any way of being able to get them to coordinate from his brain to his lips. "Why do you have Ginny's shirt though?"

You breathe a little bit of laughter at him, shaking your head softly. "it was just a joke. I saw him after a match waiting for you so I jumped out at him and pretended to be a fan for a video and he signed it and gave to me as a joke. I just threw it on when you showed up at my door in the middle of the night. Wasn't exactly a fashion statement."

Jack still grunts in dissatisfaction at your answer, refusing to meet your eyes. "You have plenty of mine to wear though, don't need his." His argues in a disgruntled grumble. You raise and drop your arms down by your side with a sigh. He was really testing your patience now. "Hm, last time I checked you couldn't give me yours anymore because your ex didn't like it." You protest with a wag of your finger, making him turn his head downwards with something like a shudder running through him at the mention of her name. "Yeah well there's a reason she's my ex innit." He mutters under his breath.

"What the hell is the problem with you today Jack?" You exclaim, his eyes jolting to you in surprise. You don't often snap.

"First you show up at my door in the middle of the night and drag me out of my house and then you won't actually speak to me and now you're picking a fight about John M fucking Ginn?" You snap, the anger and confusion he had stirred up showing in your emphatic hand gestures that only come out when you're telling him a passionate story or going off your head at him. "He's your best mate, why would that even bother you?!"

"I'm sorry, I-"

"I'm not done, Jack!" You yell, holding out a hand. "You haven't even spoken to me all week. I found out you made the England call up on fucking twitter Jack, twitter! And your mum told me about you dumping your girl and I can't even get through to you and now you're buying me gifts and bringing me here? I don't know if I'm coming or going here Jack, you have to give me something. We're meant to be friends." You voice breaks on the last syllable and a lump forms in Jack's throat that he can't just swallow away. Any pain, any hurt and any slight sadness of emotion that appears in you shatters his heart. He thought that was a normal reaction until two weeks ago when he realised it only happens to him when its your upset he witnesses.

"I'm sorry." He says, his voice thick and wavering with the same level of emotion. "I really, really am." He stands right in front of you now, so close you're basically chest to chest, faces merely inches apart.

"And I'm scared." He admits, sending a pang through your already aching heart. "Scared because I'm leaving and I can't take you with me." His words tickle your lips as they leave his, clouds of air puffing above the two of you as his hot breath meets the cold night air. "You've done it before, J. It'll be fine." You soothe, hands gently raising to reach up and brush the hair out of his face. His let's forth a content sigh of relief at the feeling of your touch. "That was before though." He confesses with a slight shrug. He watches that furrow sow itself back into your brows.

"Before what?"

"Dance with me?" He suggests, his arms finding their way around you with ease, much less fumbley than you remember from your high school prom. Your head tilts in that adorable confused way that makes a grin form on his cold lips.

"Why?" You query, eyes slightly narrowed in suspicion. He laughs softly. "Because the music is slow and the sky is gorgeous and because I love you."

Before you get the chance to recognise, process or even understand what he said, he's swaying you around the gravel under the stars.

"Because you what?" You squeak, your eyes desperately searching his as you look for any reason this might be some kind of a joke or one of pranks that makes you want to throttle him. He just smiles at you with those crinkled eyes and the love shining right there in his eyes for you to see. Your stomach flutters like the teenager you were when you fell in love with him. His lips dip down to capture yours in the best kiss that your being has ever felt, his hands ringing your hair, stroking down over your cheeks with those warm hands of his.

"Because I've fell for you, isn't it obvious?"

#jack grealish imagines #jack grealish imagine #jack grealish x reader #jack grealish prompt #jack grealish blurb #england national team imagine #england national team #footballer fics #football fics

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goldenraeofsun · 3 years ago

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A/b/o + celebrities and/or coffee shop 👀

Thanks so much for the prompt, Julesy, and I'm so sorry for the long wait! Part II should be up in the next few days, but hopefully this beginning 7k will satisfy for the time being 😘

Castiel is elbow-deep in suds when Jo plunks a medium to-go cup on the edge of the sink. “Thank you?” he says, bemused.

“It’s not for you, doofus,” Jo says, rolling her eyes. “There’s a customer out back,” she jerks her head towards the service exit that leads to the alley where they dump their trash and Ruby takes her furtive smoke breaks. “I need you to take this to him.”

“Out back?” Castiel repeats dubiously, craning his neck to catch sight of their on-site baker, Benny, who is busy kneading focaccia dough for tomorrow’s sandwiches. Benny, full of southern politeness, doesn’t give any indication he’s eavesdropping.

Jo gives Castiel a short nod, her alpha scent flaring with irritation. “I’d take it out there myself, but he always talks my ear off, and Kevin still can’t draw a latte art that doesn’t look like a dick, so…”

Castiel frowns but nods, and Jo’s expression eases once she doesn't hear a challenge to her request. Still, he has to ask, “But why doesn’t he order at the counter like a normal customer?”

Jo takes a step back towards the door. “You’ll see. Just… don’t make a big deal of it.”

“A big deal of what?” Castiel calls to her, but she’s already disappeared out to the front of the cafe.

Castiel sighs and wipes his hands on a dish towel. He picks up the drink, sniffing curiously.

He nearly gags at the strong aroma of brown sugar, cinnamon, nutmeg, and apples all on top of espresso and milk. They definitely don’t serve that on the menu. Admittedly, Castiel hasn’t memorized the list of hot drinks they serve at Hunter’s Cafe, but this is an assault on anyone with a nose. He’s been their busboy and dishwasher for six months since his second year as a graduate student began, and Jo has only let him mind the counter three times, all as far from peak time as she could get.

But a job is a job. Holding the drink, he shoulders open the back door.

“Hey - oh, you’re not Jo,” a familiar voice says.

Castiel stops dead in his tracks because, despite the sunglasses, the baseball hat, and hunched shoulders, Dean Winchester is unmistakable.

Away from the limelight, Dean apparently favors soft-looking flannels over worn tee shirts and jeans. In one hand, he holds a half depleted sheaf of french fries. Stunned, Castiel doesn't immediately hand over the reason for his appearance.

“Whatever, is that mine?” Dean demands, zeroing in on Castiel’s cup.

Still beyond speech, Castiel dumbly hands the affront to coffee over.

After a muttered thanks, Dean takes a long drink. “Christ, this tastes even better than normal.”

Castiel inhales a surreptitious breath. It’s not every day one gets to catch the scent of Hollywood’s omega darling.

Not that anyone would know Dean's secondary gender just by looking at him. Dean stands a few inches taller than the average male omega - he has nearly an inch of height on Castiel, and Castiel is the dictionary definition of standard alpha physique.

While Castiel might not be Dean’s most knowledgeable fan, he hasn’t been living under a rock for the past five years. It was all over the papers when Dean was cast in his first alpha role. Dean wasn’t the first omega actor to do so, but he was certainly the most prominent. Castiel’s sister, Anna, an actual fan, spent a memorable dinner ranting about how all the prejudiced reporters on the press tour. Apparently they only asked Dean about the diet and exercise routine that transform into a “real” alpha, while, in the next round, his alpha castmates fielded questions about their characters’ moral code and complex development.

But, in the alley behind Hunter’s Café, Castiel’s nose is completely overwhelmed by the fryers of the fast food restaurant next door, the set of dumpsters directly to his right, and the almost offensively apple coffee Dean is currently drinking like his life depends on it. Dean could smell like old gym socks for all Castiel can tell.

“Where’s Jo?” Dean asks once he resurfaces. He jams a few fries in his mouth. Before he's finished chewing, he sucks down some more latte in an unholy taste combination.

“Busy,” Castiel replies. “We have a new hire, and so far Kevin can only draw genitalia on lattes instead of flowers.”

Dean guffaws, nearly inhaling his drink. Swearing unrepentantly, he takes his sunglasses off and rubs at his temple with his free hand. “Christ, I’m too hungover to laugh like that.” He squints over at Castiek before sliding the sunglasses back on his face.

Castiel stares. “If you’re hungover, why are you here at -” he checks his watch “-seven in the morning?”

Dean slurps at his fruity latte before he answers. “Got a meeting at nine. This,” he says, brandishing his mostly empty cup, “and a large fries are the cure.” His hands occupied, Dean ducks his head to fish a single fry out and holds it like a cigarette between his lips.

“That sounds disgusting,” Castiel says, aghast.

Dean inches the rest of the fry into his mouth. “Don't knock it ‘til you try it,” he says with a wink.

Cas blushes.

“Hey,” Dean says, a new thought coming to him, “What’s your name?”

Taken aback by the question, he answers, “Castiel.”

Dean mouths his name once, his brow furrowing at the new syllables. With a small shrug of capitulation he says, “Well, Cas, thanks for the drink.” He toasts him one before tipping the cup all the way back, draining it.

“You’re welcome, Dean.”

Dean grins. “I couldn't tell if you recognized me or not.”

“I did,” Castiel says, clearly unnecessarily.

Amused, Dean throws him a long, considering look. “You’ve got one hell of a poker face.” He unceremoniously shovels the rest of the fries in his mouth and balls up the wrapper. He tosses it with practiced ease into the waiting dumpster.

“Thank you?” Cas says, nonplussed.

“Thank you,” Dean says, pushing his sunglasses up his nose. “You’re the one who saved my hide.” He sidles forward and shoves a bill into Castiel’s slack hand. Without another word, he takes off out of the alley and onto the street.

Once he’s out of sight, Castiel unclenches his hand. Dean tipped him ten dollars.

* * *

“How is this even more pungent than last time?” Castiel demands, nose wrinkling as he sets a now clean muffin tin back on the shelf. It’s been a week since he met Dean Winchester, and hadn’t gotten so much as a whiff of apple pie since then.

He is alone with Jo in the kitchen, since Benny’s early morning shift ends at eleven.

“I added a caramel drizzle,” Jo says, her scent rising with her self-satisfaction.

Castiel stares at her in horror. “Why on earth would you do that?”

“’Cause I’m trying to see what his limit is, and so far - nothing,” Jo says, shrugging. “Get to it. He’s real grouchy if you make him wait too long.”

“And why aren’t you taking it to him?” Castiel says, eyebrows rising. “Kevin’s moved onto multiple hearts now. Admittedly, his first one looked like a labia, but he’s gotten much better.”

“But Ruby didn’t show up, so we’re short staffed,” Jo says shortly. Outside, Kevin yells something indistinguishable though the kitchen door, and Jo winces.

Castiel takes the latte.

Just like last time, Dean is waiting, wearing a different flannel but the same jeans with the hole above the left knee. He abandoned the sunglasses, since the clouds overhead cast the whole alley in shade. They’re hanging from the vee of his shirt collar, pulling the fabric down a tempting extra inch.

Unfortunately, the fast food restaurant next door must have just taken out the trash last night, since the alley reeks of stale bread and rotting fish patties.

Castiel lets the door slam behind him, unable to hold back his corresponding smile as Dean lights up as he sees him.

“Thank god,” Dean says as he reaches for the latte. “I was starting to think Jo was gonna stiff me.”

“We’re short staffed at the moment,” Castiel says apologetically, “so you got me again.”

Dean eyes him over the lid of his cup. “Not a downside from where I’m standin’,” he drawls.

Castiel has no idea how to respond to that, so he doesn’t. Dean can’t mean it like Castiel thinks he does. He’s an actor, feeding people lines is the dictionary definition of his job. Instead Castiel asks, “No french fries this time?” because he’s not nearly ready to leave yet.

“Already ate ’em, while I was waiting,” Dean says dismissively.

Castiel shoves his hands in his pockets. “I’m sorry.”

“No harm, no foul,” Dean says with a little grin. “I got my caffeine fix eventually, and that’s what I really care about.”

“You look remarkably more put together than last time,” Castiel says as he leans against the doorway, watching Dean sip at his drink.

“Didn’t drink as much,” Dean says with a grin. He tips back his cup and takes a long pull. “Fries can only get you halfway there. Christ, that’s the stuff.”

Castiel can’t help but make a face. The latte smells horrendous; it can’t taste that much better.

“What?” Dean asks, eyes narrowing.

Castiel probably shouldn’t tell Dean what is exactly on his mind. Castiel has found very few people appreciate his default brand of honesty - Hunter’s Café customers, especially. But Dean isn’t technically his customer - he’s Jo’s - and Castiel has reached the point in his life where he doesn’t need to hang onto people who don’t like him and vice versa. Dean isn’t even providing extra publicity for the establishment, since he’s getting serviced in the alley behind the kitchen.

Technically, Castiel needs a celebrity acquaintance as much as he needs a free bag of cat food (he doesn’t have a cat).

But he does like having one.

A celebrity acquaintance, that is. Cats are inherently suspicious.

Reluctantly, Castiel says, “I can’t imagine that latte tastes very good.”

To his surprise, instead of demanding Jo bring him his coffee from now on, Dean laughs. “Not a fan of apple pie?”

“Not in my coffee.”

Dean takes an obnoxiously loud slurp. “I think it’s delicious.”

“I think your taste buds must be severely incapacitated.”

Dean waggles the near empty cup in front of Castiel’s face in what must be an enticing manner to someone with no sense of smell or taste. “Wanna try?”

Castiel valiantly holds back his recoil. “No, thank you.”

But Dean’s genial expression doesn’t waver. “‘M feeling pretty much human again, so it’s up for grabs.”

“I’d sooner lick the dumpster,” Castiel blurts before he can filter himself.

Dean whistles, rocking back on his heels. “Harsh.”

Castiel sighs. Honesty was a mistake. He mutters, embarrassed, “I’m just not a very big fan of sweets.”

“No?”

“I’ve been living with my cousin while in graduate school at Columbia,” he explains, his tone apologetic for his earlier comment, “and he has a horrendous sweet tooth. I don’t think he’s ever seen a carrot that wasn’t in a cake first.”

A wide grin splits Dean’s face. He laughs.

What Castiel wouldn’t give to scent Dean’s joy for himself. “He would probably love that latte,” Castiel continues wryly.

“Probably,” Dean agrees. He taps his fingers against the sides of the cup as he asks, “So you’re in school? For what?”

“Do you really want to know?” Castiel asks seriously. He’s had too many conversations with strangers and casual friends who have asked the exact same question and regretted asking it almost immediately.

Dean ducks his head. “I don’t know any graduate students, and I,” he breaks off, his cheeks going pink, “I never went to college, so I have no idea what it means.” He sucks on the dregs of his latte, gaze dropping to the vicinity of Castiel’s knees.

“Oh,” Castiel says, feeling lighter. “In that case, I’m studying ethnomusicology.”

Dean’s eyes narrow in suspicion. “Are you fucking with me? That doesn’t sound real.”

“It’s a legitimate area of study,” Castiel assures him. “I research music as it pertains to culture and diverse elements of social life. Ethnomusicology focuses not only on the music itself, but music as a social process, as a medium for humans to relate to each other. In short, it examines how music functions in a particular society.”

To Castiel’s surprise, Dean doesn’t get the glazed-over look most people do when he explains his field of study. “So what kind of music are you talking about?”

Now it’s Castiel’s turn to flush. His colleagues, while they respect his academic reputation, have nearly all looked down on his chosen object of study. “One of the main tenets of ethnomusicology is a global perspective on music-”

“What, like Tibetan throat-singing?” Dean interrupts. At Castiels’ stare, he explains quickly, “Sammy had a phase.”

Castiel chuckles. “Yes, I do know a professor at Cornell who is studying just that. But my focus is much closer to home. I study,” he inhales a small breath, “tribute bands.”

Dean’s mouth twitches. “What.”

“Tribute bands offer a fascinating definition of the nature of performance, the difference between authenticity and identity,” Castiel says, already on the defensive. He can already hear his voice trying to fall into his usual academic patterns, and tries to rein himself in, “and historical consciousness in popular music. Here -” He pulls out his phone.

Dean listens in complete silence to Yellow Dubmarine’s cover of I Want You.

“Anyway,” Castiel coughs, embarrassed he made Dean sit through all that, “I also teach Rock and Roll from the 1950s to 1980s. There is a great deal of crossover with my specialty since most tribute bands recreate acts from the 60s to the 80s.”

“Dude,” Dean says in a rush, “if you think that makes you less interesting, you’ve got another thing coming.”

Castiel blinks.

“What bands are we talkin’ about?” he asks eagerly. “More Beatles? The Stones? The Who?”

Castiel nods. “I’m hoping to go to a Lez Zeppelin concert next month.”

“Led Zeppelin?”

“Lez,” Castiel says, emphasizing the ‘z’, “an all-female Led Zeppelin tribute band.”

Dean frowns. “They have a gimmick?”

Castiel shakes his head. “They’re completely sincere, I assure you.” He smiles wryly. “I interviewed Misstallica for a paper I’m writing on diverse, for lack of a better word, musicians in the tribute world, and they felt right at home with the long hair and tight pants. I’ve never met people who more adore the songs they perform.”

“Huh,” Dean says, rubbing his chin.

“Except maybe Air-O-Smith,” Castiel adds, “an American all-omega tribute band of Aerosmith.”

Dean’s eyes widen to the size of dinner plates.

“My favorite all-omega tribute band, though, is Omega You Eight One Two,” Castiel muses, “a Van Halen cover band.”

“Yeah, I got that,” Dean says faintly.

“Their lead guitarist, as you can imagine, is phenomenal.”

Dean shakes his head, his expression going slack. “Wait, seriously? That’s a thing? All omega acts?”

“Of course,” Castiel says. “That’s one of the most compelling aspects of tribute bands, when they flip the traditional male-alpha dynamic of the original, and how they translate that into their own act while keeping the whole performance authentic to the creators. It’s a fascinating process to watch and study.”

“I bet,” Dean says fervently. “Hey, d’you think-”

The back door opens before Dean can finish his sentence.

Jo pokes her head out, looking askance at the pair of them. “Are you still out here?” She glares at Dean. “Stop complaining about your diet, and let Castiel come back to work.”

Castiel’s mouth purses. “You’re on a diet?”

“Not on cheat day,” Dean tells him, lifting his empty cup. He turns to Jo. “And I wasn’t complaining at all. Cas was actually telling me about tribute bands.”

“Really?” Jo asks, her nose wrinkling.

Dean tosses his trash in the dumpsters. “They sound awesome.”

“I like them,” Castiel says lamely, off-footed now the conversation is clearly wrapping up.

Jo rolls her eyes, alpha irritation practically radiating off her. “Good for you.”

“Alright, well, I’ll let you deal with Joanna Beth on your own,” Dean says as he pulls out his wallet and hands Castiel a folded bill. He gives a mocking salute as he takes a step back, “Good luck, dude.”

“Thank you?”

“Come on, fanboy,” Jo growls once Dean’s disappeared from view, “back to work.”

* * *

“Can’t you take it?” Castiel asks, his tone verging on pleading, as Jo follows him back into the kitchen. It’s too early in the morning for another meeting, closer to first time Castiel met Dean at seven am compared to their last meeting at a little before eleven.

This past weekend, Castiel went down a spiral of Dean Winchester content. He read up on all of Dean’s recent projects, scanned headlines about rumors of his next film - some action thriller that Castiel presumes is the reason for Dean’s diet, and watched interview after interview. Dean on Stephen Colbert. Dean on Good Morning America. Dean on some very confusing show where they forced him to eat spicy chicken wings, which just seemed like an exercise in pepper-based sadism.

Castiel didn’t really understand the Saturday Night Live skit where Dean played one half of a demon-hunting brother duo, but the live studio audience laughed uproariously at multiple points.

Jo all but slams Dean’s latte on the ledge above the sink. “You know the health inspector is here. I can’t let Ruby near the guy, and you know how Kevin gets around figures of authority.”

Castiel sets down his tub of dirty dishes. “He nearly peed himself when he had to tell you he dropped a tray of scones over the floor last week,” he says flatly.

“Exactly,” Jo says. “Benny is busy,” she says, tipping her head to where Benny is adding more flour to a huge bowl.

“Cheers, darlin’.”

She turns back to Castiel. “So, you’re it today, champ.”

“Great,” Castiel grumbles.

“What?” Jo asks, her hands on her hips. “You seemed to get along with Dean. I actually didn’t know you could talk that much before I sent you back there.”

Castiel carefully transfers the dirty plates to the sink. “Getting along with him isn’t the problem,” he says darkly.

“Getting along with him too well is the issue?” Jo asks, her eyebrows rising.

Castiel scowls at her observation. Her emotional intuition is what makes her an excellent café manager, so he can hardly fault her for that. He doesn’t respond to her question.

“Take it to him,” Jo says, her tone softening. “He likes you.”

Castiel raises his head to stare at her. “How do you know that?”

Jo pulls her phone from her back pocket and waves it in his face. “We talk,” she says. “How do you think he orders every time? He’s not getting those lattes for free, not after I spent so much time getting them exactly right.”

Castiel can’t hold back his grimace. The latte still smells awful, like a vat of boiled candied apples.

“Look,” Jo says, lowering her voice, “Dean’s famous, sure, but he’s actually a very private person. He runs his mouth to anyone who’ll listen, but he never really says anything important. So he doesn’t really connect with a lot of people. If he says he likes you, I’m gonna say that’s a good thing - if you tell him I said this, I’ll kick your ass - and make you his designated errand boy.”

Castiel bites his lip. “But I don’t -”

“Dude, don’t make me pull the boss card,” Jo says, just the barest hint of threat in her words.

“Fine.” Castiel snatches the latte off the counter. “But I want a raise.”

“You can get a free sandwich.”

Castiel glares daggers as he shoulders open the back door.

But the alley is empty.

Castiel breathes through his mouth as he steps out. The overflowing dumpsters carry the odor of moldering cheese and more rancid fish, and the fryers next door are still going strong. He doesn’t find Dean lurking behind the trash for some strange reason, and he’s about to head back in and dump Dean’s latte down the sink when a shout makes him turn around.

“Hey, Cas!” Dean calls, jogging in from the brightly lit street.

“Hello, Dean.” He hands over the latte.

“Thanks - sorry.” Dean rubs the back of his neck with his other hand. “Some fans caught me sneaking in here, and wanted a selfie.”

“Oh,” Castiel says for lack of anything better to say.

Dean tips back his cup, his expression falling into pure bliss. “Christ, that’s so much better when I’m not hungover.”

Castiel stares. “You’re drinking that with all your capacities intact?”

“Ain’t no better way to enjoy pie,” Dean says, grinning widely.

Castiel rolls his eyes. “That’s not pie.”

“It’s as close as I’m gonna get at eight in the morning on a Thursday,” Dean says with a shrug.

Silence falls between them, and Castiel can’t help glancing over Dean’s shoulder, tentatively scanning for the people who caught his attention earlier. Plenty more would have approached Dean if he didn’t have Jo’s latte waiting for him; Castiel would bet his job on it.

Dean is a celebrity.

Castiel is a grad student who can’t even afford to support a guinea pig on his stipend and café salary.

After a long beat, Dean asks, a touch hesitantly, “So, what’ve you been up to?”

Stalking you on the internet.

“Nothing,” Castiel lies. At the slight fall in Dean’s expression, he adds, “I cleaned my kitchen over the weekend.”

Dean chuckles. “You’re a weird dude, you know that?”

Hurt, Castiel takes a step back. Jo probably needs him for… something.

“Not in a bad way!” Dean says quickly. “Shit,” he swears under his breath, “please don’t stop giving me coffee.”

Castiel hesitates. “Why is it weird that I cleaned my kitchen?” He frowns. “I suppose you employ someone to do that for you.”

Dean seesaws his free hand back and forth as he sips at his latte. “Not always,” he lowers his voice, “I actually like cleaning - it helps me relax and shit. There’s nothing like blasting some tunes and scrubbing out that stain on the counter that’s been annoying you forever.”

Castiel lowers his voice too. “Is this a secret?”

Dean grimaces. “Not really. But, you know, it’s one of those omega things.”

Castiel doesn’t know. Well, he knows it is a stereotypical omega trait to like housework, but he has no idea why Dean would whisper it in a back alley like he’s confessing to defrauding an elderly relative. “And that is bad because…?”

Dean takes a long pull from his cup. “I don’t want to hammer the omega thing home too hard, alright?”

“But you are an omega,” Castiel says, feeling a little stupid for saying it out loud.

“Yeah,” Dean sighs, “but if I lean into it, I’ll stop getting alpha roles.”

“You only want to play alphas?” Castiel asks curiously.

Dean’s mouth twists. “They’re the better parts. Omegas are always the damsels in distress or get killed off first for the plot.”

“I’m sure not all films are like that,” Castiel says. God knows, Anna made him sit through enough films with an omega protagonist that did not fit the typical romantic comedy restrictions.

“Most.”

“The last movie I saw,” Castiel says, hesitant because Dean must know more about this than him, “my sister recommended it, it had an omega lead who led a team of paranormal investigators. A sort of horror-comedy.”

Dean’s face loses some of its hostility. Almost intrigued, he asks gruffly, “D’you know who wrote it?”

“Not off the top of my head.” Castiel pulls out his phone to look it up. He reads aloud, “Ghostfacers, directed by Ed Zeddmore, written by Harry Spangler. Starred Maggie Zeddmore and Alan Corbett.” He pauses, trying to remember the details. “I think they both were omegas. I’m sure there are more films like Ghostfacers out there for you to make.”

Dean sips at his latte. “A few. None with big enough names attached to really get on my radar.”

“Well, if you signed on, wouldn’t there be a big name attached?”

“Yeah,” Dean says in a tone that clearly conveys he’s thought of this possibility before. He runs a hand through his hair. “It’s just - what if I take one of these roles, and it gets all this attention just ’cause I’m in it, and it flops?”

Castiel tilts his head. “That would hardly be your fault. Most failed films are hardly the work of one person. Usually, it’s a combination of a bad story, bad production, and bad acting.” He levels Dean an appraising look. “Right off the bat, you control two of those elements - pick a good script and act as well as you always have.”

Dean blinks. “You’ve seen my stuff?”

Castiel’s brow furrows. “I thought I already said I knew who you were?”

“Yeah, but,” Dean says, his voice petering off with embarrassment, “that didn’t mean you liked my movies.”

“The majority of America liked your last movie, Dean,” Castiel says dryly. “Either that, or you have a very hardworking and wealthy mother who poured a hundred million dollars into ticket sales.”

“I mean, Mom’s a fan, but not that big of a fan,” Dean says, chuckling. “I’m pretty sure she’d rather get a twenty-minute call from yours truly than sit through a two-hour flick with my name on the poster.”

Castiel hands over his phone. “Here,” he says, tilting it so Dean can see the summary of Ghostfacers.

Dean brightens as he reads through it. “The Alpha dies first?”

“He thought he could deal with the ghost on his own.”

“Typical alpha macho,” Dean snorts. His head snaps up as he gives the phone back. “No offense.”

“No offense taken,” Castiel says easily. “With my lifestyle, posturing is a waste of time. I’ve long ago resigned myself to not being the primary breadwinner in any future household.”

“Really?”

Castiel throws him a look. “I’m in academia, Dean. Tenure is hardly a guarantee. Even so, there isn’t a wealth of money out there for ethnomusicology grants.”

Dean tips his head in acknowledgement. “It’s awful big of you.”

“Just logical,” Castiel says evenly. “It shrinks my dating pool considerably, but I’d rather do what I love than compromise that much for any potential partner.”

Dean inhales a deep breath, his eyes unfathomable. “I get that.”

“If it means I can’t afford to mate a house-omega, I’ll just have to keep cleaning my kitchen myself,” Castiel finishes with a shrug.

Dean grins. “I mean, if you spot me a six pack and don’t tell my trainer about it, I’ll clean your kitchen.”

Castiel turns bright red. He can’t bring himself to respond to that offer, so he changes the subject.

* * *

Castiel doesn’t even bother pretending to protest as Jo barges into the kitchen, the telltale scent of sugary apples wafting around her like a palpable shield. Castiel already set himself for heartbreak where Dean Winchester is concerned. He might as well take advantage of every interaction he has left.

He went to sleep late last night, watching one of Dean’s earlier movies. He was slimmer and younger, but he still shone with his signature charisma and talent. For the first time since Castiel started the morning shift at Hunter’s Café, he snoozed his alarm.

Hurrying through his morning routine, Castiel couldn’t help resenting Dean just a little. If only Dean hadn’t chosen a profession where his literal job is to be whatever his audience wants him to be.

As Castiel pushes open the door, Dean is waiting outside. Dark sunglasses shield his green eyes, and a violet bruise blooms over his left eyebrow. As the door slams shut behind Castiel, Dean winces. His left hand holds a half-empty paper container of french fries.

“Hello, Dean,” Castiel says. “You don’t look good.”

“Tell me about it,” Dean says darkly. “Gimme.”

Castiel pauses. “Did your hangover eliminate your manners?”

Dean flushes bright red. “No,” he mutters. “Sorry, Cas. I just feel like shit.”

“You look like shit,” Castiel says frankly as he hands it over.

“Thanks,” Deans says, his voice sour as old lemons. “I told Charlie tequila shots before Monopoly was a bad idea, but did anyone listen to me?” He gestures to his face. “Next thing I know, Jo’s throwing Charlie’s bag of DnD dice at my head.”

“You got that playing Monopoly? Wait, Jo did this to you?” he demands, gesturing to the cafe behind him. “Jo Harvelle?”

Dean just glares over the rim of his coffee cup. “Yeah, Katniss got me good.”

“God, why?”

One corner of Dean’s mouth lifts in a distinctly smug smirk. “’Cause she was going bankrupt, and she had to sell her last property to me.”

“So this was because of Monopoly,” Castiel says dubiously. In his experience, a board game has never led to actual violence.

Dean shrugs. “Game nights get intense. Why do you think I’m always bangin’ down your door the morning after?”

Castiel can’t believe it. “You’ve been getting this drunk at a game night? Every time?”

“So what?” Dean shoves four french fries in his mouth. “Whaddya think I was doin’?”

“Partying?” he suggests.

Dean snorts. “Maybe six years ago when I was doing B-level flicks and trying to meet as many people as I could. Now I have a back-to-back shooting schedule and hangovers if I don’t pace myself.”

Castiel watches Dean polish off his fries at a truly impressive and horrifying speed. He can’t help asking, “Why was Jo at your game night?”

“’Cause she’s a menace who knows how to pick locks?” Dean heaves a weighty sigh. “I’ve known Jo since we were kids. She and her mom - who started Hunter’s Café - were my neighbors.”

“I had no idea.”

Dean gestures to the alley with a wry hand. “Jo likes to keep it under wraps.”

“I see why Jo keeps making those drinks for you,” Castiel says, nodding at the half-finished latte in Dean’s hand.

“You didn’t make it?” Dean says, and does he sound almost disappointed?

Castiel shakes his head. “Jo is keeping the recipe close to the chest.”

“Probably worried everyone’ll want one if they get the taste.” Dean tips the cup back.

Castiel can’t help his noise of disgust. At Dean’s sharp look, he says aloud, “She’s probably worried everyone will never come back if they try it.”

Dean’s laugh cuts off with a wince. He raises a hand to his head. “Christ, last night was a mistake.”

Castiel surreptitiously scents the air for a better gauge of how discomfited Dean really is, but, as always, all he gets is trash and fryer oil. “How are you doing? Apart from the injury, headache, and general hangover-related malaise.”

“Oh, apart from that?” Dean echoes mockingly, but his words lack any heat. He crams a few fries into his mouth. “I asked my agent to send me a few more scripts with omega roles,” he mutters.

Castiel smiles. “That’s great.”

Dean hums his agreement. “Hopefully, she’ll pick out a decent one, and I can get something set up for after Two for the Show wraps.”

“Is Two for the Show the reason for your diet?”

Dean huffs. “Yeah. I have a bunch of shirtless scenes, so that means three months with the diet coach from hell.”

Castiel makes a noise of sympathy. After a moment, he asks, “Is it worth it?”

Dean chews a fry, scowling between bites. “Not really,” he says in a low voice. “Sammy’s the farmers market maniac in the family.” Wistfully, he continues, “Give me a good cheeseburger deluxe every day for the rest of my life with a side of pie, and I’ll die a happy man.”

“I didn’t think apple pie came as a side.”

“Not for you, maybe,” Dean says with an obnoxiously loud slurp of his latte.

Castiel doesn’t bother holding back his smile.

Dean sighs, rubbing his temple with the heel of his hand. “It’s just like, I don’t look like a traditional omega, so I figured I might as well try for the alpha roles.” He swallows. “’S a win-win situation. I look the part and the characters are better - what’s the downside?”

Castiel cocks his head. “Other than your restricted diet and inadvisable levels of drinking?”

A humorless smile pulls at Dean's mouth. “Not pullin’ the punches this morning, huh?”

Castiel colors, his face heating with shame. “I’m sorry. I didn’t sleep well.” An inadequate excuse, but it’s not like he can tell Dean the real reason for his more uncharitable thoughts.

Castiel has never been one to lean into his alpha instincts. Possessiveness, aggression, arrogance - Castiel has had his (mostly regrettable) moments, but they hardly define his character. But over these past few weeks, he’s had to repeatedly tell himself that he can’t solve Dean’s problems. Dean is a wildly successful adult with millions of fans, while Castiel can’t even handle Hunter Cafe's front counter during the morning rush.

Dean would hardly welcome a nobody little alpha telling him to just… do what he wants and damn the consequences because he deserves to be happy with his life and his work.

Dean plucks out the rest of his fries and balls the wrapper against his hip. He lobs it in the dumpster. “No, I get it. I’m complaining about things that most people would kill to have.” He glances towards the mouth of the alley, his mouth set in a thin line.

But before Dean can leave, Castiel says quickly, “That’s not the way I see it. Your specific frustrations aren’t universal, but hardly anyone’s are. Society is inherently unfair, and it’s understandable to be angry about it.”

God knows Castiel railed enough about the unfairness of Dean Winchester to Gabriel enough over the past few weeks.

Even now, hungover and bruised, Dean is beautiful.

Castiel steels himself. “And, for what it’s worth, I don’t think not looking like a typical omega is a bad thing.”

Dean turns to him in surprise, and Castiel would give up that free sandwich Jo offered him to be able to scent what exactly Dean is feeling. But, after a second that stretches into an eternity, all Dean gives him is a quiet, “Thanks, Cas.”

Castiel nods, chastised by Dean’s reaction. “I should get back to work,” he says awkwardly.

Dean mutters something that might be a swear underneath his breath. Raising his voice, he says, his tone apologetic, “’Course. Sorry for keeping you.”

Castiel shakes his head. “It’s alright. I,” he pauses, “always enjoy talking to you.”

Dean’s mouth lifts into a small smile, and it’s like the sun rising through the early morning fog. “You too, man.”

* * *

After his next shift, Castiel asks Jo to show him how to make Dean’s apple pie latte.

Castiel’s first attempt is a disaster. He burns the espresso and adds too much nutmeg. Jo makes him try it anyway, as a non-monetary payment for her time. As Castiel gags, a smirking Jo dumps the bitter, weirdly savory mess down the sink.

“Passable,” Jo declares at Castiel’s second try. “You need more of the apple concentrate, though.”

“It’ll be too strong,” Castiel protests even as he shakes more powder in and gives it a stir. He hands it back to Jo for evaluation.

“You could barely taste it!” Jo says. She raises it to her lips. “Mm, that’s the stuff.”

“It is?” Castiel asks hopefully.

Jo nods and pushes the cup towards him. “That’s what it’s supposed to taste like.”

Castiel frowns as the overly sweet apples hit his tongue. He can barely taste the coffee underneath all the other layers.

“Trust me,” Jo says, flipping her hair behind her shoulder as she sets Castiel up for a third cup. “Your scent’s getting in the way, but it tastes exactly like an apple pie.”

“My scent?” Castiel echoes, baffled.

Jo throws him a look as she pushes a clean coffee cup into his hands. “Yeah, you already smell, I dunno, crisp but sweet? A little like apples. Makes you think the latte dials it up to eleven when it’s more like a nine for everyone else.”

Castiel hadn’t thought to put those pieces together, but it makes an astonishing amount of sense.

He brings his last apple pie latte home to Gabriel, and his cousin makes him write down, step by step, how to make it. In between actual licks into the cup to get the dregs, Gabriel swears to visit him at Hunter’s Café more often.

When Jo next ducks her head into the kitchen to tell Castiel that Dean will swing by in fifteen minutes, Castiel gets to work. He awkwardly sidles behind the front counter and maneuvers around Ruby and Kevin, nearly knocking Kevin’s elbow as Kevin attempts some elaborate leaf pattern.

Castiel draws a rudimentary apple on top of Dean’s latte, and if it looks more like a misshapen mango, nobody will see it but Dean.

For the first time, Castiel heads out to wait for Dean at the mouth of the alley.

Dean doesn’t keep him in suspense for long. He makes his way down the street, shoulders hunched, and head bowed. Gaze fixed on the dirty sidewalk, Dean doesn’t make eye contact with anyone as he turns the corner.

Dean isn’t even wearing sunglasses or a hat to hide his face, but everyone walks straight past him.

It’s the most riveting performance Castiel has ever seen.

A few steps away, Dean catches sight of him, and it’s like some magic switch is flipped on, and he is Dean Winchester again.

Smiling brightly, he jogs the rest of the distance and follows Castiel as he slinks further back into the alley. Dean wrinkles his nose as they get closer to the dumpsters and the smell of an entire rancid fast food menu hits him. “Hey, Cas,” he says as he takes his latte. “Thanks.”

“Of course,” Castiel says, tipping his head.

Dean stares down oddly at the demented pear and takes a sip. Face going slack with a bliss Castiel doesn’t even need to smell, Dean groans.

Castiel freezes and sends up a silent prayer of thanks for the apron covering his lower half over his pants. “It’s good?” he tries futilely because Dean is clearly beyond speech.

Dean just gives him a thumbs up as he lowers the cup. He licks his lips, chasing the taste, and Castiel has seen pornography less graphic.

“I might have to tip Jo this time too,” Dean says, staring at the latte in his hand in wonder.

Castiel coughs. “I - I made this one, actually.”

Dean chokes on his next mouthful. “Are you serious?”

Castiel nods because if he opens his mouth he’s not sure what exactly will come out. Probably something highly embarrassing.

“This is the best one I’ve ever had,” Dean swears.

Castiel’s whole body heats with the force of his blush. “Thank you. I asked Jo how to make it, since it seems like I’ve taken over your delivery duties.”

Dean grins. “You’re a lot more fun than Jo,” he says lightly, “so I’m not complainin’.”

Castiel didn’t think he could get any redder, but here he is.

After an awkward beat, Dean says, “I think I found my next movie.”

“Really?”

Dean shrugs, but his eyes glimmer with anticipation. “It’s a World War II biopic about an omega who sneaks into the army, disguises himself as an alpha, and rescues a unit trapped behind enemy lines.” He taps his fingers against the side of his half-empty cup. “A little on the nose, but the script is good.”

“It sounds very promising,” Castiel agrees.

“Their biggest problem was the budget - historical pics aren’t cheap. But they think if I sign on early, they can leverage my name with the studio.” He smiles shyly. “Get the movie done right.”

“That’s fantastic,” Castiel says, a delightful warmth filling his chest - still a pale reflection of Dean’s excitement.

“Thanks to you.”

Castiel’s eyes widen in surprise. “Me?”

Dean throws him a funny look. “Yeah, you. You told me to get my head outta my ass and movies I actually like doing-”

“Not in so many words-” Castiel interjects, alarmed.

“’Cause the whole point of doing these stupid macho alpha flicks was so I could get the clout and money to do the stuff I actually liked,” Dean continues. “And I kept thinking, can’t do it yet, not there yet, until some rando tells me, fuck yeah you can.”

“I definitely didn’t say that-”

“It was implied,” Dean says blithely, waving off his protests. “So I figured, if this dude who doesn’t know me from Adam-”

“I’ve seen several of your films.”

“- tells me to go for it - it being something I’d thought of doing for years - is there any real reason why I shouldn’t?”

Castiel just stares at him, stunned.

Dean beams. “I’ve got a meeting with the director next week.”

“That’s wonderful,” Castiel says sincerely.

“Anyway, yeah, it’s partially thanks to you,” Dean says, tipping his latte in Castiel’s direction. “I also want to talk about romantic B-plot since I think it’s stupid.” He shakes his head, scoffing. “True mates, bullshit.”

“You think true mates are bullshit?”

As far as Castiel saw online, Dean’s never spoken on the record about true mates or any mates at all. Entertainment news sources reported rumors about him and a one-named alpha singer, Amara, early in his career, which he denounced thoroughly. A few months later, someone published revealing photos of him and an older alpha actor, Fergus Crowley. When asked about it, Dean refused to give details.

Dean makes a face. After a pause, he says, “My parents said they were true mates, but it wasn’t… pretty. No Hollywood romance between them.”

“I’m sorry.”

“’S fine,” Dean says in a tone that clearly says it isn’t. “Whenever Dad took off for a few days, I’d get to watch as many movies as I wanted, and - well, the rest is history.”

“I don’t know anyone who’s found their true mate,” Castiel says. His parents had a cold, distant marriage. A few times over the years, he wasn’t sure his mother even liked his father’s scent. Anna happily mated another omega last year, and Gabriel avoids all romantic entanglements like the black plague.

Castiel’s dating history can best be described as dismal. During his last visit to his pediatrician, his doctor called him a “late bloomer” which Castiel eventually realized just meant socially awkward. In the decade since, Castiel’s slept with a grand total of three people. And, to his supreme regret, none of them managed to bring his rusty people skills up to par.

But, in college, Castiel found music and his calling. And all his faults didn’t matter nearly as much.

In the crowd of a concert, people are so far outside the ordinary conditions of life, and so conscious of the fact, that they free themselves from individual concerns and devote themselves wholly to the collective. All their fury, their joy, their hunger for what they can’t have, is sublimated into the music.

Castiel has never felt more connected to humanity than in the middle of a crowd.

Truthfully, none of his past relationships ever measured up. None of his past partners ever managed to get Castiel out of his own head - not like the music.

Castiel shakes his head ruefully. “I wouldn’t know what to do with a true mate even if I had one.”

“Have a lot of super sappy sex with the lights on?” Dean offers, laughing.

Castiel frowns. “I wasn’t aware that kind of intercourse was restricted to true mates. I’ve done that in the past since I've always shared an emotional connection with the people I've slept with.”

“Oh,” Dean says, reddening. “Were you mated? Jo didn’t say.”

Inordinately pleased that Dean had asked Jo about him, Castiel shakes his head. “No, I’ve never been mated.”

Dean drains his latte. Swallowing, he says, “Me neither.” He throws the cup in the open dumpster and turns back to Castiel. “I haven’t dated in a while, actually,” he says in a low voice. “Couldn’t risk being seen with an alpha and remind everyone of what I’m not.”

Castiel narrows his eyes. “Surely people can’t be that close-minded.”

“’Course they can. Most are,” Dean says, his voice full of assurance.

Castiel’s mouth twists. “That sounds like a negativity bias to me.”

“Huh?”

“Negative information sticks with us longer and more strongly than any positive counterpart,” Castiel says with a shrug. “It’s something I always keep in mind when reading my course reviews after the semester is over.”

“So," Dean says, eyes dancing, "you can take the nerd out of the classroom, but you can’t take the classroom out of the nerd, huh?”

Castiel smiles wryly. “Trust me, I’ve tried.”

Dean laughs. “Look,” he starts, his expression turning a fraction more serious. “I might be fucking up a good thing here, but do you want to go to a Lez Zeppelin show next week?”

Castiel’s mouth falls open as Dean reaches out and pulls out his phone to show him a ticket confirmation email.

“It’s no big if you don’t want to,” Dean says awkwardly into the silence.

“I - I do,” Castiel says, stumbling over the words. “You do?”

“Uh,” Dean throws him a bemused look, “Yeah? I bought the tickets, dude.”

“I’m just surprised,” Castiel says honestly.

Dean stares at him. “This is seriously comin’ out of nowhere for you?”

“A little,” Castiel says defensively.

“Seriously?”

Castiel shrugs helplessly. “You’re … you. You’re famous. Why would you ask me?”

“Because I like you?” Dean says, nonplussed. “You’re nice in a way a lot of the alphas I know aren’t, and,” he breaks off, reddening, “you said you didn’t mind that I didn’t fit in with other omegas, looks-wise-”

“I don’t,” Castiel interrupts. “I think you’re the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen.”

Dean gapes. “Did you seriously -” he breaks off, apparently unable to voice the rest of his thought. His face turns an impressive shade of crimson.

Castiel shoves his hands in his pockets. “Should I not have said that?” he asks, brow furrowing. This can’t be the first time Dean has been complimented on his looks. As Castiel understands, good looks are one of the main precursors to acceptance in Hollywood.

“No - I mean, maybe - never mind,” Dean fumbles, more out of sorts than Castiel has ever seen him. “It’s that nobody just out and says that, even to me.”

“I just did.”

“Yeah, I got that,” Dean says, but he’s smiling. “You should look in the mirror sometime, though.” He winks, and Castiel’s brain nearly fritzes out. “So that’s a yes?”

Castiel nods, an all-encompassing warmth filling his chest and exploding out to the tips of his fingers and toes. “I’d love to.”

“It’s a date.”

Read Part II here!

#destiel fanfic #fanfic #destiel #profoundnet #rae writes fic #alpha castiel #omega dean winchester #alpha beta omega dynamics #celebrity dean winchester #barista castiel #professor castiel #the original apple pie latte

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spenciegoob · 4 years ago

Text

How to Never Stop Being Sad

A/N: Yes, this is another song inspired fic I am OBSESSED with them. If you’ve listened to how to never stop being sad by dandelion hands, are you okay? If you haven’t and you do because of this I would like to formally apologize. Okay so I started writing this and I just want to say that every single one of you is so beautiful because like wait hold on I’m getting flustered... Anyways, everything about you is beautiful that I just got so overly flustered and hot THINKING about it. Okay that’s all carry on.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary: Spencer shows Reader how to stop being sad in tiny ways.

Category: Angst, Hurt/Comfort

Content Warnings: mentions of depression, loneliness, body image issues and self deprecating thoughts

Word Count: 21K

Masterlist

____

Time has proven that fooling yourself into believing the lies is the most effective way to deal with the things you have no control over.

She sat there, for too long if she was being honest, staring at a reflection that couldn’t have been real. The mirror in her bedroom had to have been replaced with one from a carnival, distorting the image as a sick, twisted joke.

Your thighs are huge.

Your hips are too wide.

Your stretch marks are disgusting.

She had enough, finally letting the tears that welled in her eyes escape, falling down like raindrops on a window as she sat back and rested her head between her knees. She couldn’t bare to see anymore, all the early morning jogs, gym memberships and diet remedies were for nothing.

Her body had a mind of its own, and she couldn’t control it.

But then her front door clicked as Spencer all too excitedly used his brand new key, expecting to see his girlfriend sitting on the couch he fell in love with her on. The first day she invited him upstairs, the door was opened and his eyes immediately fell to the obscure, bright purple sofa that oddly enough went well with the rest of her simplistic, white furniture.

“I saw it once at a thrift shop and it was too perfect not to buy it,” she said, noticing the way he was eyeing the couch. He let a smile break across his face, knowing in that moment that he may just be in love.

But she wasn’t there, and when the door clicked shut, she was also made aware of the presence in her home.

Quickly, she pulled herself off the floor, wiped the tears that accumulated under her eyes and down her cheeks, and avoided looking at the reflection in front of her.

“Y/N? Are you here?” Spencer called from the living room. She knew he was slowly taking steps that he attempted to make as quiet as possible, just in case, towards the hallway that led to her.

“Uh, y-yeah I’m here. Just a second!” She called back, rushed and stuttering as she looked for the biggest sweatshirt and sweatpants she could find. Deciding on gray sweats and a Caltech sweatshirt, both belonging to Spencer, she took one last look at her face hoping he won��t catch what her previous activities consisted of.

When she walked out of the bedroom, Spencer saw it. He always did.

But what she noticed was the fact Spencer was dressed up, even after stopping home from the office before coming to her. They had a date, and it wasn’t that she forgot, oh no, she remembered clearly, but in her attempts to find something to wear that would be enough, her spiral had begun.

“Come here,” was all Spencer said, opening his arms for her to waltz into, and she did, slowly dragging her fuzzy sock clad feet over to the man in front of her that held both the warmth and answers that she needed.

“I’m sorry, I just... I can’t-”

“I know, it’s okay.” His reassurance calmed the nerves she had for the past hour over if Spencer would be mad that she flaked on a date. “Usually I’m the one to cancel dates. Do you want to tell me what’s wrong?”

He wasn’t prying for answers, she knew that, and she also knew that if she said no, Spencer wouldn’t push it. That was the thing about Spencer; he didn’t need to know what was wrong, but he always knew how to fix it.

“Not yet,” she mumbled, her words muffled by his chest that she pressed her face into the moment she had the chance.

Spencer cradled the back of her head, forcing it off his chest softly to gaze down at her with a face full of worry, curiosity, but most importantly, adoration.

“Come on, sweetheart. I wanna try something,” Spencer said before grabbing her hand and leading her to the purple velour couch. He sat down first, pointing away from him with his free hand letting her know he wants her facing away.

The second she sat down, Spencer let go of her hand and replaced both on top of her shoulders.

“Spence, what are you doing?” She giggled slightly when his fingers brushed near her neck. Spencer will never quite get used to how ticklish she was.

“I’m giving you a massage, I could feel how tense your muscles were from across the room.” She knew it was a lie. He also knew it was a lie, but neither had the want to say anything about it.

His hands caressed her shoulders before moving down to her back, his fingers resting on the sides of her body as his thumbs did all the work. She let her head lean back as a sigh left her body with the tension.

“You’re so beautiful,” Spencer whispered just loud enough for them to hear, and even though they were the only two in the room, the admission felt natural as a whisper like if he said it any louder, it may have broken the bubble they were in.

Slowly, she looked down to the left of her, watching Spencer out of her peripherals. The second her eyes started to glisten, he abandoned the massage altogether to wrap his arms around her waist and pull her directly against him.

“I’m sorry I don't know why I’m crying,” she said between gasps for air and soft sobs. Spencer simply shushed her, and held her close to his chest, brushing his fingers through her hair.

He tried to turn her body to face him, but in her stubbornness, she stayed with her back to his chest.

“Hey, look at me, sweetheart.” Spencer put a finger under her chin, delicately lifted her head to lock teary eyes with his loving ones. “You are the most beautiful girl in the world, and I promise to remind you that every day for the rest of my life.”

And Spencer Reid kept his promise.

Keep listening to the mixtapes they made you, overanalyze every single word you hear. "Was this a sign that things were going wrong?" No no, you were the one that cared too hard, not them.

The couple had impulsively decided to spend their two free days together in an impromptu vacation to New York City. Spencer never actually cared for the city, but when he watched the way she lit up as she suggested they go “be one with the New Yorkers,” how could he say no?

That’s how he found himself in the passenger seat of her broken down Volkswagen beetle listening to her sing along to the words of a song he’s never heard. Most of the songs she’s played so far he hasn’t known, but after watching her get lost in music she has no shame in showing she loves, he knows every line.

And when the song changes, his ears perk up because he knows this song. Spencer is aware that it doesn’t quite conventionally fit in his usual music library, but nonetheless, it’s adored just the same as Beethoven or Bach.

But then the channel is changed, the force used to push the button on the radio much stronger than needed. It was quiet for a second before Spencer spoke up.

“Are you okay?” It was simply put enough that if something was wrong, which evidently there was, she wouldn’t feel interrogated about it, only comforted.

“Uh, yeah. Everything’s cool,” she said in what could be the most unbelievable faux cheerfulness Spencer had ever heard. “That song just brings up some bad memories.”

“Oh,” Spencer whispered. When it didn’t look like she was going to elaborate, he continued. “Do you want better ones?”

“What?” She took her eyes off the road to look at Spencer like what he just asked was absolutely preposterous. “What do you mean?”

Instead of answering, he changed the station on the radio back. Time was on Spencer’s side this morning, because the peak of the song was about to play once he settled back.

She's a, she's a lady, and I am just a Line Without a Hook

BABY, I AM A WRECK WHEN I’M WITHOUT YOU

Spencer loudly sang along to the words, throwing his head back as he yelled and using his hands as he sang. She looked over at him with wide eyes that slowly shrunk as her smile grew.

The ice the song caused to freeze over her mind and heart slowly melted from the warmth Spencer’s love spread. Together, they sang the rest of the song, and when it was over, she still had a smile on her face.

“You’re a terrible singer, you know.”

“Oh, I know.”

Stay up every single night staring at your phone either attempting to gather up the courage to turn these demons, these constant reminders of your loneliness into nothing more than a bad dream, or praying just for one second you could feel the warmth of equally returned love.

There are many reasons one doesn’t answer their phone.

She could be on the phone with another person, but no that’s not possible. Her hatred for speaking over the phone ensued she never answered anyone but him.

Maybe her battery died, but that would mean she didn’t charge it overnight. Spencer watched her plug it in around midnight, even after he’s told her the dangers of doing that.

His mind unfortunately went to a darker place, because what he didn’t know was that hers did too.

She had watched her phone on her dresser vibrate insistently all three times until it fell to the floor with a deafening crash. She hoped that it didn’t crack, but that hope wasn’t strong enough to get her out of bed to check.

Spencer in his panic never expected to walk into her apartment to find everything in its place. Her car keys sat where they always did, in the bowl by the front door. The boots she usually found an excuse to wear with everything were sitting where she struggled every day to get them off by the couch, and there wasn’t a single sign of a struggle.

And then he walked into her bedroom to check one last time before he called Garcia, and while he found signs of a struggle, it wasn’t the one he was dreading.

It was the one she was.

They made eye contact the second the door opened, and upon seeing her safe, Spencer bit back a sigh of relief. There was no relief flooding his veins when the sadness in her eyes traveled to his, creating a sick equilibrium.

Spencer’s mind no longer cared about the missed phone calls, there were more important matters at hand.

“Hi, sweet girl,” was all he said as he shuffled into the room. “I got to go home early today, so I was thinking I could cook dinner for us.” Spencer had started to pick up thrown clothes off the floor, securing them in the dirty hamper. He was about to start putting books back on her bookshelf when she called out.

“Spencer.” It was only a whisper, because anything louder would’ve been too much work.

“I know, I know. My cooking skills aren’t the greatest bu-”

“Spencer,” she said again, much louder this time, even if it was just a hoarse excuse of his name.

He turned to her this time, stopping his cleaning. She had sat up only slightly to catch his eye. Regret filled her veins when they met, but upon gazing into pools of honey that held no pity, but an understanding, it melted.

“What are you doing?”

Instead of truly answering the question, Spencer held up the books that were in his hands. “Do you organize by last name?” When she just gawked at him, he continued, “We’ll do last name.”

She had no energy to fight him, he was right about the last name at least. Instead, she just watched him organize the book shelf in record speed, her mind clearing the fog that laid dangerously close to her thoughts.

When Spencer picked up the last book to be put away, she called for him again.

“Can you read that one to me?”

“Of course, sweetheart.”

Go out for coffee four times a week by yourself, always bring your notebook, never stop writing. Leave little comics and thank you notes with your tip, watch them smile as you get in your car.

She always sat alone. It was the first thing Spencer noticed about her because he too enjoyed his coffee at a table with only one chair. He would watch her every day when he got the chance to go to this cafe, so much so that his brain associated her with the place. The small mismatched couches that gave it a homey feel would always remind him of her, even if she were not sitting on them.

Who she was? Spencer did not know, but he was going to make it his mission to find out.

He always sat alone. A man like that, one with features perfectly sculpted, and an aura of comfortability so strong she didn’t have to follow the jingle of the bells on top of the door to know it was him who entered. She would look up from her notepad filled with doodles of everyone who walked by her, and comments about the day. He would always be reading, it being a new book each time.

One day when she looked up at him, wondering what he could possibly be reading now, their eyes met. She felt herself get lost in his eyes, like running through a forest, charting unknown territory carefree with no reason to turn back. Everything about him was so soft that she feared if he came any closer to her jagged thoughts, he may find himself ripped to shreds.

For the first time in Spencer’s life, his mind seized its constant running, the relief so strong he felt his limbs follow suit. She had paralyzed him with her stare, green meeting honey, mind numb except for the begging to get up and introduce himself.

In all the times he watched her, Spencer had never seen her smile until that moment. If there was any doubt that he shouldn’t talk to her, it was quickly washed away with the realization he would stop at nothing to see it again.

“Uh hi, I’m Spencer. Spencer Reid.” When she looked up at him from where she went back to writing, his heart faltered. Her gaze was so cathartic that it leaves his brain fuzzy and his heart giddy.

Spencer never believed in a god, but if there was one, she was sitting in front of him.

“I’m Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N. It’s nice to finally meet you.” Giddy and fuzzy.

When his phone rings, Spencer swore whoever dared interrupt the moment he’s been dreaming of every night for 4 months was going to feel a wrath unparalleled. He reached into his pocket, and upon reading ‘Hotchner’ in bold letters, his face fell.

“It’s okay. We’ll see each other again,” she reassured him before he had the chance to queue her in on his need to leave. She just knew, the same way she knew it wasn’t going to be the last time she saw his face.

“Until then.”

“Until then.” She smiled as she watched him leave, and once the door shut behind him, she returned to her notebook. The smile never left.

Talk down on yourself whenever possible; my life is shit because I deserve it, right? You must have done something real bad, it’s nearly impossible for you to cry now.

It was always the little moments that Spencer let it slide. When he brought her coffee on the off chance he found a free day, and surrounded by her appreciation for his kindness was a mumbled ‘I don’t deserve you,’ he let it go.

The time they walked by a small boutique, and a dress in the window caught her eye. It was short, purple silk loosely hanging off the collarbone of the mannequin, only to tighten at the waist.

“I couldn’t imagine wearing something like that,” she told Spencer before the two continued to walk. He could.

Spencer thought she would look rather beautiful in it.

And now, they sat on her purple couch while Spencer attempted to pay attention to the TV show she was binging. He kept all his comments to himself, she liked to talk about what they watched after, and he vowed that this time, Spencer would actively participate in the conversation.

But when he looked down at the girl laying in his lap, he found she was no longer following the storyline, and instead looked a million lightyears away.

“Hey.” Her attention snapped to him instantly. “Where'd you go just now?”

“I was just thinking about you,” she admitted. Looking away she continued. “About us.”

She didn’t continue with that thought, but with the sadness that filled her voice, Spencer knew there was more than what she was letting on. He also knew that if she really wanted to share her demons with him, letting them dance circles around them in the dark until the sun came up, she would release them. So instead, he tried to shoo them away.

“You know I love you, right?” If reassurance was what she needed, he would be more than happy to grant her that.

“Why?” She whispered back, so softly that Spencer could’ve missed the way the room no longer just held the two of them. She could not find a singular thing she loved about herself in that moment, so what was Spencer actually seeing?

Spencer sat with that question for a moment.

“You make me smile, even when you’re not with me. When I’m away, thinking about you is the highlight of my day. You’re beautiful, it kind of knocks me off my feet for a second, and you’re so kind, even when people don’t deserve it. You’re a light in the dark. Plus you make really good cookies, but that’s just an added bonus. Does that answer your question?”

Spencer looked back down at her, finding a smile and tears, and somewhere in his mind, he knew to make a mental note of this image.

“Yes,” she whispered before reaching up and cupping his face. “But now I really want cookies.”

Avoid your friends for weeks even though they're the only sense of consistency you have left in your life, if they really wanted to see you they'd come, but they won't.

She could feel herself slowly closing off, and no matter how much she willed for the isolation to find its way out, it still crept in at night. Without care, she let it consume her, taking more and more time during the day to dissipate to inevitably crawl back at the first sign of dark. It infiltrated her mind like a parasite, latching on to the first vulnerable thought.

Spencer did nothing wrong, he was sure of it. What he wasn’t sure of, however, was the reason for his girlfriend’s abrupt distance. He knew that in relationships, sometimes space apart from one another is important, but that knowledge wasn’t enough to stop the nagging feeling.

Something else was wrong, he was sure of it.

Alone she sat staring out the window at cars that drove by and people enjoying the day in each other’s company. The sounds of the world were not enough to drown out her mind’s racing, the thoughts so loud that she could’ve missed the knock at her front door.

It happened again when she refused to move or make a sound that could inform whoever was on the other side of her door that she was home. By the third round of knocking, she grew irritated and stormed over to give whoever interrupted her self loathing a piece of her mind.

But she opened the door and there stood Spencer, and whatever obscenities she planned on yelling were forgotten. In their place, guilt flooded through her because Spencer didn’t storm in angry, or yell at her for avoiding him for a week. Instead, he just stood there, no anger, just unapologetically Spencer.

“It’s been a week,” he said, no heavy emotions in his voice, just very matter-of-factly. “I hope it’s okay I stopped by.”

No one had ever just “stopped by” before.

“It’s more than okay.”

Allow yourself to lose interest in the things you love, watch as you begin to take a backseat to the world around you, don't fight it. Become a secondary character in your own motion picture.

Spencer wasn’t particularly snooping as he was curious. She was in the shower, and he spotted it. Before he even had the chance to force his eyes anywhere but the leather bound journal, it was too late. His mind was already too curious for any other decision besides to read what was inside.

It was the same journal she was so engrossed in every time he looked at her in the cafe.

The first few pages were simple sketches of people he recognized as regulars from the cafe. On the fifth page, what looked to be an unfinished drawing of a man was found with a little note next to it that read ‘My art doesn’t do him justice.”

Spencer could’ve sworn he had that same haircut 7 months ago.

Moving on, he flipped to a page with a drawing of a sunflower on it, the stem growing up the side of the page with a small flower on the top, leaning over what he suspected was a poem. It read,

with striking precision, my mind is full of thoughts

only i have not a soul to voice these nags

the episodes of Self Growth and Actualization that i long to not be

my reassurance alone.

if only my being was of a sunflower’s,

to sit in a field surrounded by those who are

Just Like Me.

Spencer read it over and over, scouring his brain for the poem’s author. He was trying so hard, his brain going into overdrive that he missed the sound of the shower turning off.

She walked out of the bathroom to find Spencer sitting on her bed, journal in hand.

“What’re you doing?” She asked, although no matter how hard she tried to sound serious and authoritative, it more or so came out joyous with the giggles that followed her question.

“Who wrote this poem?” Spencer asked, finally looking up at her. There she stood in the doorway of the bathroom, bright pink fuzzy pants and a white t-shirt on, drying her hair with a towel and she has never looked more beautiful.

“Which one?” She walked over and peaked at the page Spencer landed on. “Oh, that’s mine.”

It was so nonchalant that Spencer had to repeat it over in his mind to fully grasp what she said.

“You wrote this?”

“Mhm.”

“Do you have more?” She laughed at his eagerness, but when she looked over at his dead serious face, her smile dropped.

“You can’t be serious. Spencer I wrote those so long ago. Eventually I realized it was going nowhere and just gave up. They’re really not that special.”

“They are to me.” The couple held eye contact, a silent standoff between the two. One of them had to back out eventually, and then the thought that no one in her life had ever told her that her art, whether it was huge painting or little doodles, long written out memoirs or tiny poems, was special.

So she threw the competition, and sat down next to him on the bed.

“There’s another one on the next two pages.”

You don't need other people to drive away your loneliness, you just needed to find a way to talk to it.

______

Join a taglist here Tell me your thoughts on this fic here Have a request? Send it in here

Taglist: @the-girl-who-writes-fanfiction @haylaansmi @masumiyetimziyanoldu @cielo1984 @rexorangecouny @username2002 @calm-and-doctor @pieceofried @mermaidshmari @everythingbutnormal @seasonfivereid @no-honey-no

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officialgritty · 4 years ago

Text

Sometimes I ask myself

How much could the NHL handle? What would they do if I, Zoe, had the opportunity to become a GM of my own team?

Another short essay by officialgritty. Here is the masterlist, it would be best to read them in order!

The Drafting Process

First of all, I’ll only accept picks for even numbers besides 7, 13 and 69. Odd numbers can choke.

I hate public speaking so I would nominate my assistant (still have not decided on one so feel free to send your applications into my DMs) to call out our picks. It’s probably the smartest decision considering I mumble a lot and have an accent so no ones names would be pronounced correctly anyway.

Personally I would like to draft one (1) beer league player. I think they could really get the team riled up, maybe even rack up some decent penalties for other teams by instigating.

“The Vermont Villains would like to select... big boy INSERT NAME.” - Assistant

“The Vermont Villains would like to select... string bean INSERT NAME.” - Assistant

“The Vermont Villains would like to select... sorry the mic cut out, after this can we have an intermission? I’m starving. Oh, we pick twinkle toes INSERT NAME.” - Me

General Rules / Other

There are no Capricorn’s to be allowed within management or on the team besides me. I was going to say, “I’m sorry I don’t make the rules,” but I quite literally do.

I am banning Crosby and MacKinnon from ever joining the team. In fact, when they visit for games the staff will ‘decorate’ a stall for them in particular.

I will be starting a petition for teams to be allowed 5 non-forfeit forfeits, meaning you get 5 chances to say, “No I don’t want to play that team today.” Both teams get no points though. It’s almost like a mental health day and I think that's neat.

The Team

(art via @chaos-hockey, please check out their account!)

The Vermont Villains are based in Vermont obviously, because there’s not a whole lot happening there. What even is Vermont for?

The team slogan is one everyone should be familiar with:

“No whole body, no murder.”

Our team intro song as players step out onto the ice is Be Prepared from The Lion King.

Our goal horn is someone sneezing, the audience will be sprayed with a light mist of sea water for effect.

Our team song played when we win will be Ain’t No Rest for the Wicked by Cage the Elephant.

As for team rivals, we have @chaos-hockey‘s creation the Insert Team Heres. They seem so sweet, I think the Villains would have a great time messing with them. I also believe we would have some beef with the Penguins, I don’t really have a reason for it, I just feel it deep in my gut. Maybe they get their knickers in a twist because we keep stealing their good stuff idk.

Mascot

The mascot wears a neon ski mask that changes based on the team’s choice in jersey. His name is Monday, because he’s always creeping up on you and causing mayhem through the grandstands. He has a water pistol attached to a tool belt, what's the tool belt for? No one ever truly knows until it’s too late.

Gritty and Monday would get along like a house on fire.

Uniform

(art via @chaos-hockey, please check out their account!)

You may notice the presence of three jersey’s and think to yourself, “Oh there's a home, away and an alternate.” Wrong. We have two home jerseys and an alternate.

On Wednesday’s we wear pink. Seriously. This jersey is only to be worn on Wednesday games.

All of the jerseys have players names written on the back but it’s only in a script font so it’s hard to read. Announcers will be confused, players will be confused but fans won’t be because they are used to it by now.

All of their numbers are written out in Roman numerals.

Each season the team colours change (besides pink Wednesdays). Why? Because I don’t like commitment. We would make hella money on limited time merch too.

Speaking of merch, every player will need to design a pair of crocs for fans to purchase as merch. This is not limited to the players, management must also participate. Yes, you can buy the George from Statistics crocs. I really just want my own crocs and to not be judged for it.

“I’ll take one of the Zoe crocs please!” - A fan

Now we can’t limit the uniform just to the team, I’ll show up to games rocking a power suit Michelle Obama inauguration style. Always in the same colour as the team jersey for that night. Yes, we are implying that I am Gritty.

“I want them to fear me but also want to fuck me.” - Me

(art via @chaos-hockey, please check out their account!)

For all working, team socks must be worn when entering the practise and game facilities. A sock check will be conducted at security. We will not let anyone in if they are not wearing Team Socks™️

(art via @chaos-hockey, please check out their account!)

You may be wondering about the away jersey still but don’t fret. We get to the arena early and steal the other team’s clothes. Some end up in their suits, some in their away jerseys and some are left shirtless. Whatever we can or cannot find before puck drop.

Arena

The arena won’t be boring that's for sure.

Out the front we have a massive V sign, just like how you see a McDonald’s sign from so far away, you’ll know when you get close to the arena.

Instead of stairs, each seating section has a harness that you get hooked up to for when you want to change levels. And each time that you want to get down, there’s a swirly slide.

Music played will be my favourite mashups from the YouTube account William Maranci to psych out competitors. Here is a link to one of my personal favourites:

youtube

Obviously the team will need to listen to these before they are played for the first time to desensitise them. This will be done at the monthly team Disco.

During the intermission, all the lights in the main area will be turned off. Unofficial nap time my friends.

The menu consists of mutton, bagels on a stick, your choice of charcuterie board, fairy bread and fairy floss. For drinks you can either have carrot juice, Corona beer (we have a brand deal with them) or black tea with no milk.

In conclusion, it’s a good thing that I don’t have a lot of money and/or power, the NHL would hate me because they ain’t me and I have too many good ideas in my brain.

Thank you so sticking through it for this long, here’s all my love and affection 😘🥰❤️

Once again a big thank you to @chaos-hockey for bringing my ideas to fruition. Also thank you to Mik for encouraging this whole concept in our messages ❤️

Here is a part 2!

Tagging some of my mutuals/favourite accounts (please don't feel pressured to interact with this if it isn't your thing, I won't be offended):

@scheifefe @nikolajehlers @kempe @bowenbyram @d00dlebob @travisgermy @ifiwasshawnmendesidslapmyself @dmonchld @kiedhara @sortagaysortahigh @matthewthotchuk @babytkachuks @bricksatlandyswindow @canadianheaters @youngbeezersmixtape @pitoftrash @perpetually-anxious @kspitehockey

Sorry if I’ve forgotten anyone, I didn’t want to tag every single person I follow 💀

#no one got tagged :(#I will be doing school with my phone on mute so when I come back to this I EXPECT chaotic responses and chaotic responses only #I really have no idea what to tag this so I guess that’s it #let’s just hope it doesn’t flop anyway #the Vermont Villains #nhl #hockey #z does other stuff

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roselarkiin · 3 years ago

Note

Brettsey + 16 please!!

#16 "Are you seriously giving me the silent treatment?"

When Matt told Sylvie they were invited to spend the weekend at Benny's cabin with Stella and Kelly, she envisioned a quiet, relaxing weekend. She didn't think it would take too much convincing for Matt to spend their time away massaging her aching back or rubbing her swollen feet. This could quite possibly be their last weekend before she gives birth to their second child, and they become a family of four. She wants to take full advantage of that.

Though, it's quickly turning out to be anything but relaxing.

First, the drive to the cabin with two three-year-olds had not been pleasant. The second they dropped out of cell phone range, and Daniel Tiger stopped playing on Sylvie's phone, all hell broke loose, and it was non stop tantrums from both kids until they arrived at their destination.

Then once they arrived and were settled, Matt and Kelly announced their plan to take Esme and Ellie fishing the following day. Sylvie knew it would not end well.

Though their husbands insisted it would be fine. They'd spend the day on the lake, in the small boat Kelly kept at the cabin, teach the girls to fish, and it would be fun.

Stella and Sylvie knew different.

As they're getting ready to leave, Matt asks Sylvie one last time if she's sure she doesn't want to come with them. And Sylvie just raises a brow at him, looks down at what she's wearing; one of Matt's oversized shirts, sweats, and a pair of fuzzy socks. Practically her uniform since starting maternity leave. It's comfortable, but it doesn't exactly give off wanting to spend a day on the lake vibes.

Because spending the next six hours on an already cramped boat with two toddlers while she's eight months pregnant does not sound like her idea of a good time.

Sylvie doesn't tell him that, though, doesn't want to ruin his visions of this perfect day he thinks he has planned with their daughter. While she's planning how best to deal with the inevitable fallout. So she just shakes her head and tells them to have fun as she kisses them goodbye.

Matt presses a kiss to her stomach, murmurs something she can't hear to the baby, and the baby tumbles in her belly. His eyes go wide, and he laughs, has this look of complete awe on his face. The same look he always gets, no matter how many times he feels their baby move. Esme mimics Matt, kisses her stomach, and then they're out the door.

After saying her goodbyes to her husband and daughter, Sylvie settles into the chair beside the fire and picks up the book she's reading. This is her plan for the weekend, to put her swollen feet up and do absolutely nothing.

Stella offers to keep her company, acts like it's such a chore in front of Kelly, having to stay with the pregnant woman instead of spending the day with her husband and daughter. Sylvie snickers though and rolls her eyes at her friend when Stella flops down onto the couch before the door to the cabin is even closed.

"I give it three hours before it all goes to hell," Stella says.

Sylvie snorts, not looking up from her book. "They aren't even going to make it to two."

"I'm willing to take that bet. Four weeks of Saturday night babysitting, no questions asked?"

"Deal."

They shake on it before settling into a comfortable silence.

Their peace and quiet is short lived. About two hours after the little fishing expedition started, the door to the cabin slams open, and in stamps Sylvie's furious three-year-old, followed by her very irate husband.

Esme throws her coat onto the ground and flings herself into Sylvie's arms, buries her face in her neck. Sylvie resists the urge to tell her husband she told him so. Sylvie's not sure what happened, but when Esme gets in a mood like this, she knows whatever it is, their child is not going to bend easily.

Severide follows behind Matt, a sleeping Ellie in his arms. Sylvie and Stella share a look.

So it went well all around then.

Stella sits up, makes room for Kelly to sit beside her. "How long did that take?" she asks, nodding at the sleeping toddler in his arms.

He chuckles and pats Ellie's back. "Took all of twenty minutes for the boat to rock her to sleep."

Sylvie runs a gentle hand through her daughter's hair, runs circles over the girl's back. "Oh, Ez. What happened?" she asks.

"Daddy yelled at me. He's not my best friend anymore!" Ez cries against her shoulder. In her little three-year-old mind, her daddy no longer being her best friend is the worst possible insult she can think of.

Sylvie's eyes flicker over to Matt, and she can tell their daughter's words landed and had their intended effect on him. She sees a flash of hurt in his eyes as he looks at Esme before it's replaced with irritation again.

She gives her husband a quizzical look. He's frustrated with whatever happened, but it's unlike him to lose his cool with Esme. He rarely raises his voice with her. Sylvie knows he worries that he'll lose control of his anger like his own father. And even with her assurances that it won't happen, he always makes a conscious effort to treat Esme with tenderness, even when she's in trouble.

"What happened?" she asks again, directs the question at Matt this time.

He sighs, pinches the bridge of his nose before pushing his hand through his hair. "Ez threw the rod into the lake," he growls, throws his hands in the air like he still doesn't believe it. "She announced she was done, and then she tossed it overboard!"

Sylvie has to bite her bottom lip to keep from laughing. Cause, yeah, that is definitely something she can see Ez doing.

Severide nods in her direction, clearly just as entertained by the whole thing as she is. "I got it on video."

"Thank you," she mouths at him over the top of Esme's head, and Stella snorts. Kelly already has his phone out of his pocket, holding it out to his wife before she even has a chance to ask, knowing exactly what she wants. Sylvie needs to get him to send her that video right now.

"It was a brand new rod, Sylvie," Matt exclaims.

"And it was a sparkly purple kids rod that cost $40. She was probably only going to use it the once anyway. It's not going to break the bank, Matt. That's not what this is really about, is it?" She holds her hand out to him, gestures for him to come to her. Because she's got Ez in her lap, and she's eight months pregnant. She is not getting out of this chair if she doesn't have to.

He crosses the room, sits on the arm of the chair. Just like she knew he would. Sylvie slides her fingers into his hair, uses her nails to massage his scalp. She knows he was excited for today and that he's disappointed Ez didn't like fishing as much as he thought she would.

She sees his shoulders relax, and Matt leans his head into Sylvie's hand. "I just wanted today to go differently, that's all." Sylvie nods. There it is.

"I know you did," she says, places her hand on his back. "But, babe, Ez is three. She can barely sit through an episode of Paw Patrol without getting bored. Don't you think that you might have had unrealistic expectations of what she's capable of today?"

He presses a kiss into her hair, and she doesn't need to look at him or even hear him say it to know that the gesture is his way of admitting she's right. He moves to the other side of the chair, crouches down beside Esme's face, caresses her little cheek with his thumb.

"I'm sorry I raised my voice at you, Ez."

Esme whines then, shrugs Matt's hand off her cheek. She turns her head away from him, tries to burrow herself further into Sylvie, as much as her pregnant belly will allow anyway.

"Aww, come on, Ez Pez." Matt lets out a low chuckle, pokes her shoulder. "Are you seriously giving me the silent treatment?" She nods against Sylvie's chest.

While Sylvie often finds herself thinking their daughter got the best of both her and Matt's personalities, it's times like this when she realizes they also passed on some of their worse qualities. Esme's tendency to be a little obstinate - okay, a lot - she gets from Matt (no matter what he says). The flair for the dramatics comes from Sylvie.

Sylvie brushes Ez's hair off her face. "Daddy can be silly sometimes, huh?" she whispers in her ear, and Esme nods. "Do you think maybe you should accept his apology?"

She scrunches up her face, looks over at Matt, and then back to Sylvie. "Do I have to?" she mumbles defiantly. Sylvie laughs, kisses her daughter's forehead, and reminds her to be kind.

"Do you think I can make it up to you?" Matt asks, and Esme just shrugs her little shoulders.

Matt pouts, and Sylvie can't help but roll her eyes at him. It's clear he's getting a little desperate when their daughter won't budge. Ez has always been such a daddy's girl that he doesn't know what to do with himself when she's angry at him and he's not the favorite. He hates it, and he's not against using bribery to win back their daughter's affection.

He tries again, gives it one last ditch effort to get her to forgive him. If this doesn't work, nothing will, and he'll just have to wait until Esme forgets about it. That usually takes a couple of hours, always filled with Matt's sulking, and then everything goes back to normal.

"Hey, Ez, what do you say we go for a drive into town? We can get some ice cream," he tries eagerly. Then, in an instant, Esme launches herself out of Sylvie's lap into Matt's arms. His arms fly up, wrap around her waist to catch her.

It's comical, really, just how fast she forgets that she's trying to stay mad at him.

"Can I get a really big one?" Esme asks, throwing her arms wide.

"Oh, I don't know about that," Matt says teasingly.

"Please, Daddy. Please," she begs, drags the words out in a long whiny way. She clasps her hands together under her chin and bats her eyes at him. She learned that from Sylvie.

"Okay, but don't tell mama," he whispers conspiratorially, winks at Sylvie over Esme's shoulder.

"If you're going out, could you bring me back some Oreos?" Sylvie asks, flashes him a bright smile.

Matt smiles back at her and places his hand on her stomach. "Baby craving?" Sylvie nods, covers his hand with her own. "What's the feel for today?"

Sylvie thinks for a moment before answering, "Boy."

"Nah, definitely another girl," Matt says. "What do you think, Ezzy? You're the tiebreaker. Are you getting a brother or a sister?"

"Sister!" she answers from Matt's arms.

"See, you're outnumbered. Definitely a girl."

Sylvie laughs and shakes her head. "If only it worked that way. Besides, that doesn't count!"

"Why?" Matt protests. "Just because Ez sides with me?"

"No, because last week she wanted the baby to be a puppy."

Matt laughs out loud at that. "Wouldn't that be something!"

Esme starts to get impatient, and she fidgets in Matt's arms. "Daddy, can we get ice cream now?"

Ellie lifts her head and chirps from Severide's lap, "I want ice cream."

"That you wake up for?" Severide gives Ellie an incredulous look, tickles her sides until she laughs. "Guess we're tagging along then."

"Matt?" Sylvie calls, just as he's almost out the door again. He turns back to look at her. "Can you get some pickles too? The round ones already cut for sandwiches?"

He makes a face like he knows what she's planning to do with the pickles and the Oreos. "If I have to watch you eat that, I'm going to be sick," he deadpans. He's guessed correctly.

"Don't watch then," she says, as if it's the most obvious answer, and she laughs at the disgusted look he sends her way.

#brettsey #sylvie brett #matt casey #brett x casey #technically set in the same universe as ASOW #but it should still work if you haven't read it #for someone who doesn't have kids #and has ZERO desire to have any of my own #i sure do include them in my fics a lot

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dcnatural · 4 years ago

Text

Soaking Wet

Word Count: 2189

Pairing: John Constantine x Reader

Rating: Explicit

Synopsis: During a storm in London, you find cover in your ex-boyfriend’s apartment.

There were many things you loved about London, but the weather was definitely not one of them. There had been no sign of rain when you left your hotel room for an evening stroll, the sun shone brightly on the clear sky. Then, almost by magic, the clouds turned gray, the wind began to hurl, and a heavy rain started pouring down.

Puddles of water splashed under your feet as you ran through the streets desperate to find shelter. The icy rain pricked your skin like projectiles, the strong winds blowing it at fast speeds. Strands of wet hair clung together in front of your face, blocking your vision and no matter how many times you tried to tuck them behind your ear, they fell off again.

Being mostly a residential area, there were no stores for you to seek shelter in and the open sidewalks offered no protection. By the time you finally found cover under the awning of a four-storey brick building, even your socks were drenched. Although the draped fabric prevented the water from falling directly above you, it did nothing to shield you from the gusts of wind and the droplets of rain it brought along.

You hugged your coat tightly around your body in an attempt to keep yourself warm. You hadn’t dressed for the weather, your clothes weren’t thick enough to act as an efficient barrier from the cold. Not even your cardigan seemed to do anything against the rapidly dropping temperature.

You considered walking into the building instead of simply hiding in front of it. The wooden door, however, was locked and without a key, you found yourself stuck where you were. Your battery had run out and, as such, you couldn’t even call yourself an Uber.

When you first heard his voice calling your name, you assumed that you had simply drifted off and were dreaming - no, if he was in it, then it must be a nightmare. But then he called again, each syllable coated heavily in his british accent, and you are pulled out of your musings.

Water beads clung to your eyelashes blurring your vision and you had to squint to see better, but there was no denying that it was actually him. His dirty blond hair was a disheveled mess on top of his head and his trademark trench coat flowed ever-so-gently behind him. A lit cigarette hung from his lips, which were slightly curled into a smirk.

“John Constantine,” you replied in a mist of distrust and awe. It had been so long since your mouth had last formed those words that your muscles seemed to fight against it, as if trying to remind you what had happened the last time you did so.

He took a drag of his cigarette and puffed out, encircling the two of you in a grayish smoke and you coughed. “That’s me, luv.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I live here,” he stated, grabbing a pair of keys from his pockets and rattling them in front of you, the tiny metal pieces clinking against one another.

Your mouth opened in a silent “oh”. Of course that, out of all the apartment buildings in London, you would end up stranded underneath his. The wind picked up and a chilling breeze blew across you, causing you to shiver.

“How ‘bout you?” he continued, “Are you stalking me? ‘Cause it would have been easier if you just called.”

You roll your eyes at his insinuation. “Oh please, as if I’d want anything to do with you again. I was just walking and got lost. And then this damned storm started.” As if prompted by your words, a lightning struck the sky, followed closely by the deafening sound of a thunder and you jolted in surprise.

Constantine chuckled and you furrowed your brows. “It’s not funny!” you groaned. “It’s freezing out here and I’m soaking wet!”

He raised an eyebrow but before he could make a sound, you were at it again. “Don’t even start. You know what I meant.”

“I don’t think I do, luv. Why don’t you show me how wet you are?”

You couldn’t believe his audacity. Making jokes and flirting when the last time you spoke to him he had acted like a complete bastard. Not to mention that you were clearly in distress. “Fuck. Off.” you replied harshly, crossing your arms and turning away from him.

“I can’t leave you out here to freeze to death, it would weigh heavy on my conscience.”

“Since when do you have one?” you bickered.

“Do you wanna come inside or not?" he continued as if he hadn't heard your interruption. "I have some beers in the freezer and we could catch up while waiting for the storm to die out.”

You should’ve said no. But the cold was just too harsh and you could feel your toes going numb. Letting out a small sigh, you nodded.

"Fine. But that doesn't mean I forgive you or anything like that."

"Noted," he said, his smile widening a bit. You bit your lip to keep yourself from saying something nasty about him. There was a huge list of unflattering adjectives you could call him, all of which would be true.

He unlocked the entrance and you rushed inside, immediately feeling better now that you were out of the wind's reach. John tried to make small talk as the two of you climbed the stairs up to his floor but you ignored his questions, dismissing most of them with a nod or a wave of hand.

His apartment wasn't the mess you expected. The small living room was tidy, there were no dishes on the kitchen sink and the floor wasn't littered with cigarette butts. It even smelled nice: lavender and blueberries, reminiscing of a warm summer day in the countryside.

You removed your muddy shoes and went inside. He turned on the heater and went to get the promised beers from the fridge. You sat on the carpet in front of the radiator and enjoyed the warmth. Constantine handed you an open bottle and you took it, shallowing half of it in one go, not minding the bitter taste.

Despite the heat, you were still pretty much chilled to the bone, your damp clothes preventing you from fully warming up. You coughed and shifted uncomfortably, hoping he didn’t notice your discomfort. Nor the increasingly damp patch that was forming underneath you in the carpet.

"You should take off your clothes", John suggested casually as he studied you.

You almost choked on your drink. "Excuse me?"

"You are dripping everywhere", he took the now empty bottle from your hand, "and they say that you should never stay in wet clothes when trying to warm up. Do you wanna take a warm shower? I can lend you something to wear."

You squinted. You simply weren’t used to him being this… kind? Prestative? You didn’t even know what to call it. And once more, instead of declining his offer like any sane human being, you said yes.

He led you down the hallway to his bedroom, with its walls covered in posters of classic punk rock bands and sorcery books scattered around the floor, and to the annexed bathroom.

“I’ll leave a change of clothes on the bed for you,” he said before closing the bathroom door.

You locked the door, checking twice to ensure it couldn’t be open, and waited until you heard him move to the hallway before undressing. The shower was hot and you welcomed the scalding water, letting it run down your body and wash the cold away. You tried not to think of how his soap smelled like him - citric and earthy; as long as you had known John, he had always used the exact same brand of soap - and how you would smell like him afterwards.

Despite that, you couldn’t deny that it was pleasant to have a shower, and when you were done, you already felt better. Careful to keep your back to the door, just in case his intentions were less chivalrous than he was letting out, you picked the white button-up shirt he had separated for you and got dressed. It was clearly an old, worn-out piece and you could see the markings of cigarette burns and of the places where the fabric had been thorn in combat and had been sewn back together. The garment was too big for your lithe frame, the hem hung just above your knees and the sleeves covered completely your hands, forcing you to roll them up in order to use your hands. He had left a pair of black pants but, given your lack of underwear, you chose not to put them on, the shirt did more than enough to cover your private parts. You pulled your hair in a loose bun to get the wet strands out of your neck and, after a quick glance at the mirror to ensure you were decent, walked back to the living room.

Constantine was slouched on the couch, watching television with a bottle of whiskey in hand. He smiled as you crossed the doorway and his gaze drifted over your body, lingering just a second too long on your cleavage and making you blush. He scooted to the end of the couch and patted the empty space besides him and, seeing no harm in it, you slumped against the cushions.

“Feeling better?”, he asked, passing the bottle to you, which you gladly took.

“I hate to say it, but you were right, everything feels better after a shower.”

On the screen, a man jumped from a helicopter while bombs exploded in the background, and despite not having seen the beginning of the movie, and although you weren’t exactly paying attention, you soon got the hang of the plot. Indeed, John’s presence on your side was quite disconcerting, and throughout the movie, as the bottle emptied out, you found yourself inching closer and closer to him, until your legs were touching.

As the action came to a climax and the hero saved his beloved, you felt Constantine’s hand sliding over your leg, fingers drawing little circles on your skin that sent goosebumps to your core.

“John,” you mumbled, leaning into his touch and sighing as he ventured further upward and his calloused fingers grazed your inner thigh.

“That’s right, luv, say my name,” his words were soft as he whispered them into your ear.

You shook your head. “No, we can’t.” You tried to shove him off, but didn’t put any real strength in it. You knew it was wrong, but his touch was just so good, and it felt so right.

Ignoring your plea, his free hand began to open the buttons of the shirt to expose your breasts. “Can’t or won’t ?”

You lost any ability to form cohesive sentences when his lips closed around your peaked nipple, nibbling at the raised nub. His tongue swirled over your breast and you found yourself gripping tightly at his dirty blond hair to keep him from pulling away.

While he continued to place kisses on your chest, his other hand slipped between your thighs, fingers dangerously close to your already dripping folds. He teased you, scraping his nails where he knew your skin to be the most sensitive until you were squirming under him, basically begging him to give you the relief you craved.

He detached his mouth from your body with an audible pop. “Tell me, still think we can’t?”

You rolled your eyes. “You win. Just-” Your sentence was cut short as he abruptly kissed you and, wrapping an arm around your waist, picked you up from the couch and carried your body to the bedroom.

You giggled as he laid you onto the bed, legs wide open and back propped up against pillows. His eyes were locked with yours as he spread your lower lips apart and dragged his tongue lazily over your entrance. Your hips jerked forward when he made contact with your clit and you moaned as he began to flick his tongue against it. He knew how to get you all worked up, kissing, biting and sucking on the right places to send your mind into heaven. Or perhaps hell.

Praises and profanities rolled out of your tongue as the pleasure built inside of you. Your nails scratched his shoulders leaving red trails of blood behind, urging him to continue. Dark spots formed on your vision as you reached your peak, back arching over the mattress and a lewd scream leaving your mouth.

He laid on your side, a wide grin plastered on his face. “It’s still storming outside, perhaps it would be better for you to spend the night. Just to be safe, you know,” he added with a mischievous wink.

“Shut up,” you replied, leaning over to kiss him, the taste of you still on his lips. “Just tonight. And only because it is freezing out there.”

He nodded half-heartedly and draped an arm around you, pulling you against him. “Sure. Someone has got to keep you warm.”

#John Constantine #constantine imagine #constantine x reader #john constantine x you #john constantine x reader #legends of tomorrow imagine #reader #Smut #dc #dc imagine

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swan-of-sunrise · 4 years ago

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Spellbinding (Chapter Seven-Part One)

Summary: A day before Tony Stark’s charity ball, (Y/N) is assigned her very-first mission as an Avenger and needless to say, she finds herself under extreme pressure not to fail.

Pairing: Loki X Reader

Word Count: 4k

Warnings/Disclaimers: The Spanish in this chapter was translated with Google Translate, so I’m sorry if there’s a mistake in it.

A/N: I hope that you enjoy!

Chapter Seven (Part I) July 10th, 2015 Avengers Tower, New York City (Previous Chapter)

“Hurry up, (Y/L/N), your Quinjet’s gonna be leaving soon and we still have to see if your suit’s working okay!”

As Bruce scolded Tony for being too pushy, (Y/N) finished fastening her sword to her belt with quaking fingers. After three months of extensive daily training, she was finally going on her first field mission as an Avenger; according to Director Fury and Steve, she had excelled in both magical and physical training and was finally ready to put her skills to good use. (Y/N) was excited, of course, but she was also a complete nervous wreck. What if I make a mistake and put the others in danger, she asked herself for the tenth time that day. She knew how much her teammates would be counting on her on this mission, and she was terrified of such high expectations resting squarely on her shoulders.

To distract herself from the butterflies in her stomach, she looked into the floor-length mirror and examined her brand-new uniform. It reminded her of Natasha’s full-body leather suit, but there were several distinct differences; (Y/N)’s bodysuit was made of black and purple leather, it included pieces of black leather armor and matching fingerless gloves and she wore knee-high leather wedge boots, silver arm circlets and gauntlets on her forearms. A long purple cloak hung from her shoulders by silver-toned clasps, and her sheathed sword hung from her waist. She couldn’t help but smile at her reflection, her new suit making her feel just as empowered as the tower’s two resident Asgardians. Smoothing down her hair one last time, she took a deep breath and drew back the curtain separating her from the rest of the lab, causing both men to turn and gape.

Tony’s eyebrows raised and his mouth hung open almost comically. “Damn, (Y/L/N), you look…”

“Fantastic!” Bruce smiled widely.

“I was gonna say ‘badass’ but ‘fantastic’ works too.” The billionaire gestured for her to stand on a short stool before continuing. “We designed the leather of the suit to be breathable and flexible, the armor’s bullet-proof and it can even withstand extreme heat and cold to a certain degree.” Tony pointed to her silver gauntlets as he paced around her. “FYI, these were partly inspired by our little bonding incident a few weeks back, (Y/L/N), remember? They’re not vibranium like Capsicle’s shield but they’re still bullet-proof in case any get through your magic.”

(Y/N) twisted her forearms to examine the gauntlets better. “That’s amazing, Tony!” The billionaire smiled proudly at her compliment. “But, what about my glasses? I can’t wear them on missions and you guys know my eyes don’t react well to contact lenses…”

Bruce’s eyes gleamed with triumph. “That problem had us stumped for a while, but last week we finally managed invent a solution that didn’t involve cutting into your corneas with a laser.” He handed her a pair of metal-framed glasses and held her regular pair for her. “Put these on and press the button on the right side of the frame, please.”

“Oh, my goodness…” (Y/N)’s mouth fell open as she followed his instructions and examined her reflection in the mirror Bruce held up. The glasses had flickered once before turning completely invisible, making it look as if she didn’t wear glasses at all. “How did you two geniuses manage this?”

Both scientists looked pleased with her reaction. “Well, we just adapted the same cloaking technology that S.H.I.E.L.D. used on their helicarrier and improved upon it; anyone attacking you won’t realize you’re wearing glasses unless they sock you in the eye, which is something I’m pretty sure you’d stop from happening.”

“The lenses are bullet-proof, scratch and glare-resistant, they’re fitted so they won’t fall off and we made several pairs just in case something happens to these ones.” Bruce set down the mirror and picked up his clipboard to jot down some notes. “Now, does everything feel all right? Nothing’s too tight or too loose?”

Shaking her head, (Y/N) moved her arms and legs to be sure. “Everything feels perfect.” The moment Bruce finished writing down his notes, she jumped down from her stool and gave him a tight hug, smiling when she felt him slowly return it. “Thank you, Bruce.” She pulled away from him and gave Tony a hug, which he was much quicker to return. “And thank you too, Tony. The suit is wonderful and I feel much safer now that I have it!”

“No problem, (Y/N), we just want to make sure you’re protected when you go out there.”

“Yeah, Stevie Nicks, you should always use protection.” Tony smirked playfully as (Y/N) blushed and Bruce rubbed the bridge of his nose in mild exasperation at his suggestive comment.

Just then, Natasha walked in, dressed in her standard black leather bodysuit with her hair braided over her shoulder. “Nice suit, (Y/N)! Cap wanted me to tell you that the Quinjet’s leaving in five, so you’d better hurry up.”

“Thank you, Nat, I’ll be there in a minute,” She turned back to the two men as Natasha left and grinned. “Well, wish me luck!”

Bruce gave her a smile. “Good luck, (Y/N).”

Tony’s smirk widened. “Yeah, not that you need it, though; you’re gonna kick so much ass out there in that getup.”

Chuckling lightly, (Y/N) gave them one last glance before leaving the lab; on the way to the elevator, she heard someone call her name and turned to see Loki hurrying to catch up with her. Her heart beat even faster in her chest when she noticed that he was wearing her favorite outfit: fitted black slacks and an emerald-green dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and his long black hair hanging loose around his shoulders. She mentally chastised herself before saying, “Hi Loki, what are you up to?”

“I couldn’t very well let my best friend leave on her first mission without wishing her luck now, could I?” Loki flashed her a grin, but she could see the uneasiness in his eyes. “You look positively fearsome in that armor, by the way. How are you feeling?”

“Thanks, and I guess I feel a little nervous,” She said truthfully as they stepped into the elevator, knowing better than to lie to him. “I don’t want to be the one responsible for any of the others getting hurt.”

Loki gently took her hand and held it between his own as the elevator rose, making her faintly blush at the contact. “Lady (Y/N), I can assure you that you have absolutely nothing to worry about. Our teammates can take care of themselves, and as long as you remember all the training you’ve excelled at over these past few months, you’ll be able to protect them and yourself if the need arises. Remember, everyone in this tower believes in you, but none more so than I.”

Looking into his sincere green eyes, she could feel her nervousness slowly begin to melt away and she smiled up at him. “Thank you, Loki, that really helped.”

“I’m glad I could be of assistance,” He grinned before letting go of her hand. “And please try to hurry back, I don’t think I could handle going to Stark’s charity ball tomorrow evening and watch everyone make fools of themselves by myself.”

Stark Industries hosted over a hundred charity events for dozens of different causes and organizations every year, but one of the only ones held personally by the billionaire included an annual charity ball to raise money for children’s hospitals across the country. Since the Avengers had begun using the tower as their base three years ago, the ball had become increasingly popular as more and more people were willing to donate to attend and meet the heroes. (Y/N) was excited to go and promote such a worthy cause, but she was also excited for an entirely different reason: two weeks ago, Loki had asked her to accompany him as his date. She could vividly remember the moment he’d asked her…

“Loki? Loki, are you in there?” (Y/N) knocked on his door before sighing. “Listen, Steve told me that you haven’t been having a good day so I brought you some snacks. We can watch a movie, if you want? Trust me, nothing will cheer you up more than chocolate chip cookies and A Knight’s Tale! It’s about a squire who poses as a knight and competes in jousting tourna-”

“What’s jousting?”

(Y/N) shrieked and spun around to face a laughing Loki, pressing her free hand to her chest and smiling despite herself. “Loki, that wasn’t funny! I almost had a heart attack!”

Loki continued to snicker. “Apologies, my lady, but I couldn’t resist the temptation.”

“So, I take it that you’re having a better day now?” She followed him into his room and sat in her usual place on his couch, handing him his cookies with a raised brow.

He nodded, a cheerful look on his face. “Significantly better, actually. I suddenly remembered that Stark’s charity ball is in two weeks and that I’ll be able to enjoy it with you. That is, if you wish to accompany me…”

“Of course I’ll go with you, Loki, who else would I go with?” (Y/N) mirrored his bright smile before gesturing to the television across from them. “So, snacks and a movie?” As they watched A Knight’s Tale, (Y/N) concluded that Loki was only asking her to accompany him as a friend; she was a little disappointed, of course, but she wasn’t going to allow her emotions to ruin a fun night for her and her best friend.

(Y/N) chuckled to herself as the memory faded; they stepped out of the elevator and walked to the floor’s glass doors. “Don’t worry, I’ll be back in no time.” Before he could reply, they stepped out into the tower’s small hangar where a Quinjet was being prepared for departure on the protruding helipad.

“There you are, (Y/N), we’re almost ready to leave!” Steve called from the Quinjet’s ramp as he slung his shield onto his back and adjusted his helmet’s jaw strap.

Loki gave her a reassuring smile. “Good luck on your first mission, Lady (Y/N).” He leaned down to give her a hug but to her surprise, he wrapped his arms tightly around her waist and pulled her up off her feet; she giggled in surprise and he laughed, gently swaying her from side-to-side as she wrapped her arms around his neck and experienced the now-familiar fluttering in the pit of her stomach. “And please, stay safe.”

“I will, Loki, I have an important engagement tomorrow night that I can’t miss, remember?” She joked, feeling a swell of pride when he chuckled lightly. “I’ll be safe, I promise.”

He set her gently on her feet and she reluctantly pulled away from his arms, giving him one last smile before following Steve into the Quinjet. The ramp closed behind them and (Y/N) quickly strapped herself into the seat next to a familiar face as the plane lifted into the air.

“Hi Scott, I haven’t seen you in a while!” (Y/N) had met Scott Lang during her first month as an Avenger; he was in awe that she was half-Light Elf and had nearly fainted from excitement when she gave him a small demonstration of her powers, and she was equally amazed with his suit’s ability to change sizes and the way he was able to communicate with ants. He wasn’t in the tower often but whenever he was, they got along very well. “How are you? How’s Cassie doing?”

Scott smiled, a gleam in his eyes that he got whenever anyone mentioned his five-year-old daughter. “Ah, I’m good, my buddies and I just opened up our security company – we call it X-CON, get it? – and Cassie’s doing great; I helped her read through a picture-book version of Charlotte’s Web and she’s been reading it all by herself for the past week!”

(Y/N) grinned, the pride in his voice filling her with happiness. “That’s wonderful, tell her I said ‘congratulations’! And congratulations to you for your company; I take it they let you come up with the name yourself?”

As the Quinjet continued to fly, (Y/N) continued talking to the energetic man, thankful that he was there to keep her mind off the nervousness surrounding her swiftly-approaching first mission.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Two hours later, they had reached their destination: the Dominican Republic on the island of Hispaniola. Their mission was simple, to destroy a large weapons compound that was operated by a terrorist organization with known ties to Hydra. Scott would go in first and disable the nearly-impenetrable security system before splitting off with Natasha while (Y/N) and Steve stayed together; each group would then plant a batch of explosives around the vast compound. The explosives were rigged to a detonator Natasha held, but it was still imperative they get out as quickly as possible in case of any complications. Please let everything turn out all right, (Y/N) silently prayed as they trekked closer to the compound and took cover twenty yards away behind a fallen tree. The moment Steve gave him the signal, Scott pressed a button on the glove of his suit and instantly shrunk, and a moment later, the tiny outline of an ant could be seen in the fading moonlight, flying quickly towards the compound’s concrete wall.

“Don’t tell Tony, but I think your suit’s way cooler than his, Lang.” Natasha’s lips curled into a smile but her eyes continued to scan the area for any threats.

(Y/N) heard Scott’s soft chuckle through her comm link. “Black Widow likes my suit more than Iron Man’s? Awesome.”

“All right, you both remember the plan, right?” Steve looked up from his explosives-filled satchel and glanced at the two of them.

“We’ve been over the plan twenty times, Cap, we’re fine.” Natasha rolled her eyes but grew serious when she caught sight of (Y/N)’s face. “We’re fine, right (Y/N)?”

(Y/N) nodded once, trying to mask her nervousness with a smile. “Yeah, of course, Nat.”

“Hey super-dudes, I just disabled the security system so come on in whenever you’re ready! But, you might wanna hurry ‘cause I have to turn it back on after one minute so they won’t get suspicious…which you already know ‘cause we went over the plan on the Quinjet. My bad. And I just realized, (Y/N), you’re the only one of us who doesn’t have a cool superhero name and that’s just not acceptable, so I’m gonna make one up for you, okay?”

She couldn’t help but smile at Scott’s unique way of calming her jittery nerves. “Okay Scott, go ahead and make up a cool superhero name for me.”

“Time to go.” Steve pulled his shield onto his arm and gave her an encouraging smile. “We’ll be fine, (Y/N), don’t worry.” The two of them crept silently towards the compound and Steve motioned for her to get behind him before swiftly pulling the unlocked front door open. He immediately threw his shield, hitting the three surprised guards in the heads and catching it as they crumpled to the ground. Silently marveling at Steve’s impressive throwing skills, (Y/N) followed him as they continued down the vast hall.

“Cap, (Y/N), you’ve got two armed guards heading straight towards you on your left, and a couple of others coming up from behind.” Natasha said, revealing that she had already reached the compound’s control room.

Steve glanced at (Y/N) and gestured for her to take the lead before turning to prepare for the attack, and she immediately knew what she had to do. Taking a deep breath and concentrating all her energy into her hands, she summoned two balls of purple magic in her palms; the moment the two men turned the corner in front of them, she thrust her hands and magic outwards, engulfing the men in swirls of purple magic and causing them to slam into each other and then into the concrete wall behind them. They hit the wall with a sickening crunch and fell to the ground, unconscious. Behind her, Steve threw his shield and took out the other two guards.

Natasha chuckled through the earpiece. “Nicely done, Bad-Ass; Scott and I are onto Phase Two, so you two are on your own. We’ll meet you at the rendezvous point when we’re done.”

The two Avengers continued down the halls of the compound, occasionally coming across the remnants of Natasha and Scott’s handiwork but strangely no more armed men. In no time, they reached the compound’s warehouse, which was filled with hundreds of wooden crates. Weapons, (Y/N) thought as she frowned in disgust. This particular terrorist organization was responsible for half a dozen attacks around the world in recent years that had resulted in countless civilian casualties, so she had no problem with working to take them down along with Hydra.

They quickly began planting the explosives all around the vast room but just as they finished, at least two dozen armed guards burst in. Steve immediately ran into battle, but (Y/N) froze in fear, her legs unwilling to move. Time seemed to slow around her as a familiar feminine voice spoke in her head: “Kiddo, no one can make you feel inferior without your consent…”

You’ve spent three months training for this exact moment, (Y/N) thought to herself, now it’s time to show the world its newest Avenger. She unsheathed her sword and charged at the men; she sliced through their guns like butter before they could pull the triggers and deflected their knife attacks with ease, twirling and ducking around them and using their slowness to her advantage as she slashed at them. She was vaguely aware of Steve fighting nearby but she was entirely focused on her task of incapacitating her attackers. Her luck left her, however, when she kicked an attacker to the ground; the last man standing took her by surprise then with a hard punch to the stomach and wrenched her arm behind her back, causing her to gasp in pain and drop her sword.

“No eres tan dura ahora, ¿verdad, puta?” The man growled into her ear as he pointed a knife to her chest, its tip puncturing the exposed skin along her collarbone.

“Todavía no has visto nada.” She replied, elbowing him hard in the stomach and ducking under his arm as he doubled over in pain. Rolling out of the way, she picked up her fallen sword and raised it just in time to block his knife attack; she countered it by twisting the knife out of his hands and slamming the hilt of her sword against his head. Her attacker fell to the ground like a stone, unconscious.

Breathing heavily, (Y/N) looked around for Steve and saw that he was locked in combat with a larger man. She was about to hurry to his aid when she caught sight of a sniper crouching atop a tower of crates and pointing a rifle at Steve’s unaware back. Without a moment of thought, she sheathed her sword and ran into the line of fire just as the sniper pulled the trigger. Time seemed to slow down and she could practically see the bullet flying through the air; raising both her hands and summoning her magic, she was rewarded with the sight of the bullet ricocheting away and a millisecond later, the sight of the sniper being engulfed in a swirling purple cloud and thrown roughly against the wall before falling to the ground.

She turned to see Steve standing over his defeated attacker, a stunned expression on his face. (Y/N) only breathed a sigh of relief, her pride and relief overtaking her earlier nervousness.

“Wait, you speak Spanish?”

Scott’s legitimately confused tone causing her to stifle a smile. “Yes, Scott, I speak some Spanish. A little French, as well.”

“As much as I’d love to learn more about Trilingual (Y/N), we’ve got a mission to finish. Scott and I are already at the rendezvous-”

Just then, the unmistakable sounds of thundering footsteps echoed from the hall; it sounded as if nearly fifty heavily-armed men were approaching, all heading right for them. When they turned to look through the small window of the door, they could clearly make out the bazookas the first several men held in their arms as they approached. They plan on sacrificing their weapons and their lives just to kill us, she thought with a horrified gasp.

(Y/N) quickly used her magic to keep the door barred and whirled around to face Steve, an undoubtedly insane plan coming to mind. “Nat, you have the detonator. Press the button when I tell you to.”

“But you and Steve are still in there!”

“Nat, if we don’t blow this place to hell right now, then they’ll be the ones to do it! Besides,” Steve’s confident blue eyes never left hers as he gave her an encouraging nod. “(Y/N) has a plan.”

Natasha remained silent for several moments. “All right, tell me when.”

“I really hope your crazy idea works, (Y/N), or else you two are gonna be toast.”

Hurrying to the center of the warehouse, (Y/N) knelt, pulling Steve down with her, and held her arms up above their heads; she was grateful that the super soldier wrapped an arm around her waist and raised his shield as a precaution, as things were about to become much shakier. Summoning every ounce of strength and power she could without passing out, she created a swirling bubble of purple magic to fully surround them. I love you, Loki, she thought just before shouting out, “Now!”

Explosions went off around them and caused the earth to quake, enormous balls of fire to expand across the room and the warehouse to begin crumbling away around them. To her great relief, her magical force-field held, deflecting the fire and debris and keeping the air inside fresh, but her arms began to shake with effort. All of a sudden, it felt as if she was lifting an immeasurable weight but she continued to hold her magic in place despite the pain. I have to protect Steve, I have to protect Steve, she repeated in her head, gritting her teeth and concentrating all her remaining energy on her magic. That last bit of effort did the trick; yelling in pain, magic pulsed outwards from the force field, vaporizing everything within fifty feet of them and extinguishing the blazing fires. She collapsed against Steve and struggled to remain conscious, the force field surrounding them finally fading away; they both immediately began coughing as their lungs filled with smoky air.

“C’mon (Y/N), stay with me,” Wasting no time, Steve stood and pulled her into his arms, quickly carrying her through the thick smoke and towards the distant tree line. “I’ve got you, can you stay awake for me? Stay awake, (Y/N), we’re almost there, just keep your eyes open…”

She opened her mouth to respond but could only violently cough; after blacking out for what only felt like a moment, she blinked her eyes open and realized that they were back on the Quinjet and already in the air. Her head was resting in Steve’s lap, and Natasha and Scott were leaning over her; all three of them had equally concerned expressions on their faces. “(Y/N)! Thank God you’re okay!”

(Y/N) swallowed thickly and looked up at all three beaming Avengers. “Did…did we finish the mission? Who’s flying the Quinjet?”

“Don’t worry, I put it on autopilot and yeah,” Natasha nodded, a proud smile stretching across her face. “Yeah, we finished the mission all thanks to you, Bad-Ass. Seriously, what you did was fucking amazing, (Y/N).”

Steve grinned; he had taken off his helmet while she was unconscious, and the parts of his face that hadn’t been covered were streaked with soot. “Not too shabby for your first mission, doll.”

“And while you were off being awesome, I came up with the perfect superhero name for you,” Scott grinned triumphantly before continuing. “How about ‘The Cosmic Sorceress?’ ‘Cause based off what Captain America here told us and what we saw ourselves, you showed a lot of bad guys that you’re a scary-ass force to be reckoned with, and bad-assery like that deserves a name to match.”

(Y/N) thought for a moment, a smile slowly stretching across her face as she looked up at her fellow Avengers. “You know what? I love it, Scott.”

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Spanish Translations: No eres tan dura ahora, ¿verdad, puta?-You're not so tough now, are you bitch? Todavía no has visto nada-You haven't seen anything yet.

A/N: (Y/N) finally has a ‘made-up name’ like the others! Sorry to leave you in suspense, but Loki and (Y/N)’s ‘date’ will be the next chapter so stay tuned! Thank you all so much for reading and commenting! I’ve created a Spotify playlist inspired by this series, and I’ll be updating it every time I upload a new chapter. Enjoy!

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2wx8TZwpDN0l33tES3W3Nk

Chapter Seven-Part Two

Spellbinding Masterlist

Tagging: @nexiva @ravenclawbitch426 @cminr @confusedfandomwriter @momc95 @nickkie1129 @austynparksandpizza @brooke0297 @destructivebliss @outoftheregular @itscomplicatedx @0-artemis @vivloki

#loki x reader #loki odinson x reader #loki laufeyson x reader #loki #loki odinson #tony stark #iron man #bruce banner #hulk #natasha romanoff #black widow #steve rogers #captain america #scott lang #ant man #marvel cinematic universe

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mashedpotittiess · 4 years ago

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Games of Tomorrow

Header created by my muse and bb R. Title: Games of Tomorrow. Pairing: Taehyung x Reader. Mentions of: Hoseok, Jin, Subin (Victon) and OC’s Summary: A simple game of beer pong stirred up some not so innocent feelings between you and the man you held much disdain for. After all, he was your enemy. The person you couldn’t seem beat when it came to grades. You were never enough for the rich and popular but maybe just maybe you’d show them what you were all about. Words: 13k Rating: M Genre: Enemies to Lovers!au, College au!, Smut, Fluff, Angst.

This was all inspired by this photo which I just edited (color, background and the text)so all original photo credits go to the owner.

A/N: What started as a simple short drabble ended in this much longer than intended fic. This is my first pic so pls be gentle. I am but a noob to tumblr writing. I hope you enjoy this craziness <3 this fic is dedicated to my friend who picked Tae to be the first character I wrote about and sat there and listened to me freaking out cause the fic kept getting longer. Ily R. This is Un-Edited so i apologize in advance for the mistakes. I’ll re-read it and fix mistakes as i come across them. Tags/Warnings: Smutty smut smut, Jealousy, Drinking, Mention of Marijuana, Oral (female receiving) Fingering (female receiving), Unprotected sex (wrap it up kids) Fluff, Angst, Size kink, Tae mentioning his DIG BICK, semi rough sex (not really though).

Fic inspired Playlist Link:

spotify:playlist:77Hd51hVnDHe8Q9JaLxGbD

Taglist: @a-mess-of-fandoms @dnyad

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“Absolutely not” you said calmly into the cellphone receiver. “But y/n! You need to let loose once in awhile, and no I’m not talking about sitting on your couch eating bowls of Ramen and cheese popcorn while watching re-runs of Boy Meets World with a big glass of too much Whiskey” Layla practically whined. She had been trying to convince you to go with her to Seokjin’s party on Saturday for an entire hour. She was right, you knew this coming weekend you’d be plopped onto that same blue couch in your big band t-shirt and fuzzy socks doing exactly that. “I’ll think about it” you finally mumbled out and could practically hear the smile in your best friends voice as she exclaimed a ‘woot woot’ “Okay Hot Stuff, i’ll text you later, gotta get to Volleyball Practice” with that she hung up and you continued your walk to what you’d call a ‘Headache’ of a class. It’s not that you hated Econ per say, it’s that you studied your ass off, completed extra credit assignments with a flourish and took wonderfully color coded notes (if you say so yourself). But yet, HE still scored higher than you (even if it was just by one point) and what’s worse is that he NEVER seemed to study, never seemed to care. Trudging into class you took your usual seat in the second row close to the middle. Organizing your laptop, books and assortment of pencils and pens on the table. As Professor Carmine began his lesson writing “Principles of Economics” onto the whiteboard with his usual navy blue marker, you diligently took notes and nodded along with his rhetorical questions. “Before we end for today lets see who can answer this simple yet intriguing question, “Would you consider Inflation or Deflation of cost cycles to be more costly to a business?” You pondered on how to word your answer for about two seconds before raising your hand. “Yes Ms. Y/L/N” you shifted in your seat slightly. “While I know this question has no definite answer as it can be interpreted many ways, I would say with our current Economy, Inflation of prices would be more costly,” Before you could continue you heard a Deep Baritone voice that you knew too well scoff. “So you think Deflation would benefit a business? that’s essentially lowering your prices which in turn leads to loss of income” You rolled your eyes nonchalantly and turned around in your seat to look at the man in the fourth row who had not only interrupted you but disagreed and voiced his disagreement. “I said with our current economy Inflation could hurt a business. Do you think regular people can afford to buy a $3,000 purse when they make minimum wage? It could cost a company to make said purse for $200 with cost of material and labor. If you lower those prices by a fraction, said company would still be making money and you could possibly have more demand as more people with regular paying jobs can afford you buy said purse. If you higher the price less regular people can afford such a luxury item which could hurt the demand. Thus causing an issue with the income for a business”. You said staring at the red haired man pulling a cock of his right eyebrow from him. “Regular people don’t need a $3,000 bag, you want brands to lower the prices so poor people can buy their items? How sad. Tae is right, just higher the prices and get more money. Businesses will make their money regardless of the lower or middle class purchasing their items, as long as they have people like us,” a high pitched voice you recognized as Nami said gesturing to herself and the perfect barbies next to her “buying from them”. Before you continue the alarm from your Professors phone startled you and signaled the end of not only your Monday class but your discussion as well. You picked up your items, shoving them in your bag and trudged out of class. As you passed Taehyung with Nami, Michelle, Hoseok and Gigi at his back he smirked at you and you swore you heard Nami giggling ‘Bet she’s never even held a Chanel bag in her hands. she just wants everybody to be ratchet like people like her’. Smiling to yourself you turned around and flipped them the bird “At least I don’t have to go crying to daddy to buy me a new set of tits, I make my own money and work hard for it. Something you wouldn’t know a thing about, and THAT is what I find sad about your entailed fake ass”. your voice carrying through the hall as you turned back around and made your way back to your dorm. ——————————————— “You know what day it is? TACO Tuesday” You exclaimed while taking a shot of Jose Cuervo and stirring your meat to ensure its cooked properly. Your roommate Casey giggled and Layla downed a shot with you while blasting a Pitbull song. After plating your dinner of carne picada tacos topped with all your usual veggies and homemade Salsa you smiled while your friends posted pics to their instas, Captioning “BB y/n made us food”. “I still can’t believe you told Nami her tits were fake” Casey giggled while shoving a fistful of popcorn into her mouth. “y/n said her tits and her ass were fake” Layla corrected and you smiled at your dorky friends. “She deserved it, nothing I said wasn’t true. You all were sprawled out on the couch pilled high with fluffy blankets watching a random episode of The Nanny and laughing at random jokes Layla said while scrolling through her Insta feed. “OOOOOOh Valeria is getting ice cream with Subin” Casey practically pouted at the post and you sighed knowing your roommates crush on Valeria which did not go unseen by Layla, causing a metaphorical lightbulb to go off in her head. “You know Casey, Valeria is going to be at Jin’s party on Saturday” Casey being held buzzed sat up catching the bait and worried her bottom lip “Is she?” Layla nodded “This could be your chance to get a fistful of all that Latina, metaphorically and not so metaphorically” she crudely added with a wiggle of her eyebrows and you literally face palmed at your best friends words. Instead of being equally gassed out, Casey however downed her coke and stood up triumphantly “It’s time I tell her!” Layla stood up with her screaming a loud ‘yaaaaas queen’ and both pairs of eyes looked towards you sitting their nursing your Sprite. “What?” you questioned and immediately regretted when both girls practically jumped on you, squishing you between their bodies. “I can’t confess without knowing you and Layla are both there” Casey pouted her soft pink colored lips causing you to shake your head. “You do not need me there while you confess to your crush.” “But what if it goes bad? what if she rejects me, or worse; makes fun of me? What if i need to leave and I’m crying and I have snot everywhere an-“ Before she could continue you sighed and covered her mouth with your right hand. Nodding you stood up and smiled at both girls “Fuck it, Let’s get your Girl!” you knew Casey had liked her for literally an entire year and you knew you’d feel like shit if you weren’t there supporting your friend as she bared her heart. “I’m only doing this for you though, so know that I love you.” ——————————————— While the rest of the week you were dreading the party Saturday knowing Nami, Taehyung and the other were going to be there, it was Thursday night that was the straw that broke the Camels back. You had just finished returning your copy of Ulysses when you passed Nami practically hanging on the redhead talking about her Angel costume for Seokjins party. Rolling your eyes as you passed you stopped as you heard her ask “What are you rolling your eyes about? This is a private conversation” she flipped her hair over her left shoulder and you yet again rolled your eyes. “This is a public hallway, which means anything you say that can be heard by others can in fact get a response be it verbal or physical by someone other than the intended person in the conversation.” You were just about to turn around when she hmmphed “Whatever, mind your own business” turning around you were met with Layla jogging towards you. “Hot Stuff, what are we going to wear to the party? I’m thinking Doja Cat from the ‘Juicy’ MV, omg you should be -“ Before your best friend could continue, Nami stepped towards you with her arms crossed. “And how did someone like you, get an invitation?” punctuating the ‘you’ she pointed at you. “Jin and I are both on the Volleyball team” Layla stated and turned towards you “And he said I can bring whoever I wanted.” “I still don’t know why you hang around people like her” she once again pointed to you with her baby pink manicured index finger. You knew Layla had money and could very well fit in with their group. You sometimes felt like you were her downfall, the anchor to her social climb. But she always reassured you that she hated people like Nami and never understood why out of everyone, she hated you in particular for the passed two years. “Maybe because she’s my BEST friend, whoever gets invited to the party doesn’t involve you Nami. It’s JINS party, not yours.” Layla shook her head and you bit your bottom lip while curling your fists at your sides trying to calm yourself down.”Maybe she should be Donkey from Shrek, or maybe an edgy emo kid from 2010 with her ugly tattoos” Nami smirked and you heard Taehyung ‘who was scrolling on his phone let out a light laugh, his deep baritone further fueling Nami’s ego. “Have you ever even been to a party? like have you ever even left you dorm for something other than classes and your jobs” she sneered at the words jobs. “You should just reconsider coming, people like YOU don’t belong. People like YOU really should know your place” Your jaw visibly ticked “Seems like you have an obsession with anything my best friend does, is this like you having a big lesbian crush on her?” Layla said while placing a hand on your shoulder and doing her best Janice from Mean Girls impression. Before Nami could say anything back Taehyung nodded out a “Guess we will see you there then, bye Layla, bye y/n” turning to leave. Nami rolled her eyes and checked her phone “Not like it’ll matter what you wear, wait, OMG you should soo wear a ghost costume, it would suit you. Get it? cause you’ll be invisible and you don’t belong” then turned around, her yellow heels clacking against the tile as she following Taehyung down the hall cackling. “I still don’t know why she’s always hated you of all people? like it’s been two years of the same thing with her. I honestly don’t know how you haven’t hit her. I’ve seen you fight” She smiled and grabbed your hand, holding it while you all made your way down the hall, which made you smile and let out a small giggle at her comment about you fighting. She knew about your childhood and how you practically lived at you neighbors boxing gym to let off steam as a stress reliever. You had agreed to find a suitable costume as rage filled you from Navi’s moments and Taehyung’s lack of interest in the matter. (not that you would’ve expected much from him)

As you scanned the rows of costumes hung on the wall neatly you waited by the changing room while Layla and Casey tried on their costumes. “I think i’ll just go with this one” Casey smiled softly while twirling in her peter pan costume, her blond bob swishing lightly. “It’s so cute!” you hugged her and turned to see Layla emerging with a shake of her head “This isn’t giving me enough Doja Vibes”. You let out a hmm and pulled the pink/red mid length wig from your left and threw her a pair of red tights telling her to go put those on while you scoured the items on the racks. Layla finally emerged from the dressing room after you finished giving her the scattered pieces you had found. Clutching the green watermelon rind skirt, she twirled around in the same manor Casey did earlier and shook her pinky/red bandeau covered chest at you. After tightening the green suspenders that were connected to the skirt she smirked “Now it’s your turn Babe, and Casey and i are paying” before you could interrupt her she continues “not buts! You agreed to find a costume” Shaking your head you said a chorus of “No’s” vehemently at every option she held in front of you. “Y/n you need something to accentuate how hot you are! make her eat her words” you huffed and shook your head “Naughty Nerd is not the way to go Nami” Hanging the customer back on the rack she mumbled a “she said nerd so i figured hot nerd would be well, hot”. You grabbed a simple Witch costume that consisted of a mid length purple dress and a black hat with matching stockings, something low key but still a costume. Before you could go pay for it Layla grabbed your hand and stopped you. “No, y/n that isn’t enough, plays were paying” she pointed to herself and Casey who nodded. “Layla I don’t want to draw anymore attention to myself, I don’t need to look “hot” cause I’m not. I’m just a regular person who isn’t enough for these people. I’ll never be or do enough” You look down at your right arm and traced the intricate patterns of your black and white peonies and hibiscus that lined your inner arm. Your friends had never seemed you look so vulnerable, and something in Layla snapped. “She called you invisible and said you weren’t enough but guess what? She knows all about you makes sure you’re always uncomfortable around them. Which means she sees you as a threat”. you bit your bottom lip at her words “She has called you ugly, ratchet ‘which who says that anymore, poor, insignificant and she made fun of you working your ass off to pay your tuition because your deadbeat parents can’t do shit for you. You’re the smartest person in class, you’ve got street smarts and fuck man, you can literally kick a grown mans ass. Remember when those guys were grabbing Casey at the club and you stood up for her and literally fought two of them and won? Little miss prissy bitch couldn’t stand a 5 secs with that y/n. I know you don’t bother with fighting her cause you’re afraid of her connections and getting kicked out of school but fuck y/n grow some balls” Snapping your head in her direction you walking up to her standing in her face and exclaimed “Firstly Taehyung is the smartest in my Econ class. Secondly, don’t you think I’m already aware of what she says about me? don’t you think i want to punch that stupid smile off her face full of fillers? You wan’t me to grow some balls? FUCKING FINE, but I’m not wearing a “sexy nerd costume.” Smirking and trailing your fingers along a row of costumes you looked at your friends. “I’ll show her just how hot I can be” Layla smirked at you “That’s my girl, so what do you have in mind then” You slid your fingers along what felt like vinyl. Cocking your right eyebrow up you gripped the material. “What’s hotter than the Devil?” ——————————————— Standing in front of your mirror in your bedroom you were already regretting your choice in outfits for tonight. As you stared at yourself you reminded yourself why you were doing this. You were going to prove a point and that was all that mattered. you were going to prove you weren’t any of the negative things Nami said about you. Running your hands down the scrappy vinyl like material that was covering your chest and part of your upper body. Your hands stopped above your navel where the top stopped and you cocked your hip to the side, descending your hands further down your bare skin to the top of the matching vinyl like skin tight pants that resembled shiny black liquid covering your skin leaving little to the imagination. You plopped yourself in front of your desk to the makeshift vanity that was full of makeup products for the nights preparations. Curling the ends of your hair you laughed as Layla pranced around shimmying to Nasty by Brooke Candy. “Don’t trust that hoe he N A S T Y” you all yelled the lyrics. Finishing your Deep Burgundy and black smokey eye, you applied a sharp winged eyeliner and smoked out the lower lash line. Applying small round black jewels under your eyes you finished the look with a deep burgundy matte lipstick, fluffy lashes and a soft pink toned blinding highlighter. “We have like 5 minutes, get your asses in gear” Layla announced as you were tying your simple black leather choker around your neck. After zipping up your over the knee 5 inch stiletto vinyl black boots, you placed your black horned headband on your head securing the little clips in your hair and primped the strands around your face to frame sexily. The ride there was filled with bopping to music and Layla yelling that you were a bad bitch out of the windows for all of the campus to hear which caused you to yell as the Uber driver. Taking a deep breath, you exited the car and holding Layla and Caseys hands, you walked the short distance of the walkway to Seokjin’s Lavish off campus Townhome. The smell of weed and alcohol mixed with the sound of loud bass thumping greeted you as Layla pushed open the door. Walking through a sea of bodies you felt several pairs of eyes on you and you had to remind yourself it was fine. Settling yourselves in the kitchen, you started to make you all some drinks while Casey looked out for Valeria and Layla handed you cups and bottles. You decided simple Margaritas on the rocks were safe for the night and handed them to your friends. A tall and beautiful man you knew as Seokjin himself walked in and greeted you all, making sure to give Layla a hug to which you noticed her little blush creeping down her neck. “I’m glad you all could make it! Layla are you Doja Cat? omg Casey you’re Peter Pan! y/n are you the devil? oooooh are those Margs I see?” SeokJin asked which you nodded and asked if he wanted one as well. “Yes please! I suck at making drinks, oh and please just call me Jin” Smiling you stirred the mixture into a clear cup and handed it to him earning a dazzling smile. As he took a sip, Jin pressed his right hand to his chest over his heart “You NEED to come to all of my parties and make me drinks. This is so delicious” As he mimicked the chefs kiss signal you laughed and Layla beamed a smile at him. “Y/n works as a bartender part time at Nely’s next to campus” You nodded and sipped you drink while surveying the beautiful white marble kitchen and chrome accents. “You have a beautiful Home Jin” you smiled to him which made him softly pat you on the back “Thank you! I take pride in my kitchen. It’s where I blow off steam from Volleyball practice” Layla shook her head “You need to blow off steam? you practically don’t even sweat while we run plays” to which Jin scoffed “We all need to blow off steam Layla” You and Casey watched as both people seemed really comfortable with being around each other. You noticed Layla blush and Jin smile every time their eyes met. “Oh you’re here” said a shrill voice you knew none other than Nami herself, dressed in a fluffy white see thru robe, white satin dress that barely covered her butt, knee high white vinyl go-go boots, white lace stockings and sitting atop her head a thin gold halo attached to a headband. Next to you Layla smiled and placed her hand on her hip “Yeah, we said we would be here so here we are” you heard the brattiness in her voice and giggled when you notice Jin staring at her hips. “Ew, don’t stay too long” Nami said while walking out. Jin shook his head which prompted Layla to ask why he had invited Nami. “Well our families are friends and my roommates are friends with her” You cocked an eyebrow” You have roommates?” Before Jin could answer you heard a deep baritone laugh getting closer, turning your head to the side you saw Taehyung accompanied by Hoseok walking into the safe haven of the kitchen. “Tae, Hoseok, come meet Layla and her friends Casey and y/n!” Jin smiled “These are my roommates” As the men stepped closer you tried your best to cover the shocked look on your face. “HEY we have two devils!” Hoseok yelled out and smirked. Taehyungs hair was parted down the middle and some of his fringe was swept up into two red ‘horns’ he donned black skin tight vinyl pants, red shiny shoes that looked a lot like Gucci Mules, a sequined Blazer with only one button down right above his navel that accentuated his chest as he decided to forgo a shirt and a thing black choker similar to yours but tied in a small bow sitting in the hollow of his throat. Feeling his eyes roaming over your body and landing on you horns you busied yourself by chugging your drink and earned a holler from Hoseok. “Hey y/n can party!” Before anything else could be said, Casey spotted Valeria who was waving at you all to join her in the living room. Throwing your cup in the trash you followed Casey out of the now suffocating kitchen and tried to hide your expression as your eyes met the Red Devil while you slid passed him. “Hey girls!” Valeria smiled and hugged you both causing Casey to blush. Layla had stayed in the kitchen talking to Jin which made you smirk knowingly. “This is Subin” the man next to her looked up from his phone and sent a side your way, you noticed his costume as a werewolf from the looks of his tattered ripped shirt and what looked like a gnarly bite mark on his collarbone. “Hi I’m y/n and this is Casey” Casey narrowed her eyes at the man and how close he was standing to Valeria mumbling out a ‘I know who Subin is’. As you four talked you noticed Valeria standing closer and closer to Casey while laughing at some inside joke they shared. Before you knew it Valeria had swung an arm around your friend and they shared a soft smile. You really hoped all went well for Casey, if not, you might have to kick some ass. While you were thinking of the cuteness overload that Casey and Valeria together could be you heard a shuffle from your right “you look nice when you smile” Subin smiled at you and you felt the pink tint forming on your cheeks. As Casey pulled Valeria with her outside for some “fresh air” which you knew as go time. You decided to get straight to it and ask Subin himself “Are you and Valeria a thing?” choking on his drink he coughed out a loud ‘no no no no’ and you cocked an eyebrow. “Val and I are just friends, plus she’s not really into someone like me like that?.” “Someone like you?” Nodding Subin smiled knowingly and looked towards the door both girls had just slipped through. “As in she like boobs, your friends boobs to be exact.” Your eyes widened “Wait no! not her boobs, she liked your friend in general i was just saying boobs to accentuate how Val wouldn’t like me anatomically.” You giggled at how flushed he had gotten and he smiled along with you. You hadn’t noticed a pair of eyes staring as you talking to the man dressed as a werewolf. Hoseok noticed the look in his friends eyes, it was the same one Taehyung had gotten anytime you rolled your eyes at him, ignored his presence or had gotten in a heated debate. He had been sporting that look every time he looked at you for a little over two years now. Since your first year of college when you had shared a Psych class and battled for top spot in class. He knew his friend had taken an interest in you and it never dissipated. Taehyung sipped his beer and kept his eyes glued to your face while you smiled and laughed at something the man next to you had said. Hoseok was tired of nothing coming from this and slammed his beer down hopping onto the coffee table earning a ‘that wasn’t cheap get down!’ from Jin “It’s beer pong time!” Hopping off the table he stood in front of you in all of his Napoleon Dynamite Glory. “Y/n come play beer pong” he smiled at you and you could help but notice how beautiful Hoseoks smile was. Shaking your head “I don’t think i’ll be playing tonight Hoseok but than-“ Nami cackled at you from her band of barbies and interrupted “ Hope, don’t waste your time with her she isn’t worth it. Plus she probably can’t even play, she’s never even been to a party before.” Thats what caused you to roll your eyes and place your hand into Hoses outstretched one. “I’ll play”. You and Subin followed Hoseok to the side of the living room where a few beer pong tables were already set up. Layla and Jin had joined you as well, intrigued to see you playing. “Okay teams of two. Usual rules of no leaning over the table, must drink your drink if a ball is sunk, one re-rack per person on each team, and if a trick shot made with one hand behind your back and a foot away from the table is sunk by the opposing team they may make a request that you have to complete. Said request can’t be anything illegal or THAAAT bad. “Can I take a shot instead of drinking a beer? I don’t really do well with beer” you asked honestly which cause Hoseok to holler “Fuck yeah!” Before you could pick a teammate Hoseok smiled and pulled Taehyung over “We have to have the two Devil’s playing” You shrugged and asked Subin if he would be your partner to which he smiled an ‘of course’ which earned a cock of an eyebrow from Taehyung which Hoseok noticed and smirked. “I’d be on Tae’s team but I think to make it fair we should have another female” Nami walked over laying her hand on Taehyung’s shoulder and smirked “I’ll play” you rolled your eyes and mumbled an ‘i’ll play’ mimicking her shrill voice which earned a chuckle from Subin. “Ooh an Angel and a Devil on the same team, how heaven and hell” Hoseok smirked and set up the cups handing each team their set of ping pong balls. Layla and Jin brought you a bottle of tequila (your eyebrows shot up when you noticed it was ‘Gran Patron’ and then you remembered these people are well off. You had made the marg’s with a different bottle of Patron which while not cheap wasn’t as expensive as this particular bottle was) and shot glasses to replace the typical drink of beer if a ball is sunk. Beer really didn’t sit well with your stomach, you assumed it was the carbonation. “Layla you do know this is like a $500 bottle of alcohol right?” Layla smirked and Jin smiled responding “I don’t really drink Tequila unless it’s in a marg and my uncle left this bottle here from his last stay, as far as I’m concerned you can have it.” You opened the bottle letting the smell of Agave fill your senses and re capped it. “Ready?” Hoseok asked to which both teams agreed. Taehyungs team started to which Nami missed her shot, the next shot was Subins and he sunk it, picking her to chug what looked like some sort of fruity cider. Taehyung was next and he lined up his shot before seemingly sinking it before he looked up “Subin drinks” he said smoothly and Subin drank what was left in his cup. You were up next, carefully lining up your shot you watched as the ball plopped right into the cup and looked at the duo in from of you. “Nami drinks” Nami rolled her eyes “Ughh again??” she exclaimed and you smirked “What? can’t keep up?” you asked to which she grumbled and drank what looked like another cider. Nami sunk her next shot and picked you to drink, as you poured the liquid into your shot glass you smirked right at her while downing the shot like it was water. Unknown to you, a pair of dark eyes watched as you licked your lips while placing the glass down. The game continued with each of the teams missing and sinking shots until you won the game, hugging Subin you both had only had around 3 drinks each and decimated the other team. Taehyung called for another game as in 2/3 wins to win the full game. You had surprisingly agreed but only because Nami wouldn’t shut the fuck up with her little snide comments and you loved the look on her face every time she missed or you sunk her shot. The second game continued until there were only 4 cups left on your end and 3 on the opposing team. You and Subin hugged each other after your last shot that nailed Nami yet again and she held her stomach calling celebrity shot which basically called Hoseok into the game to replace her. You were 5 shots in and feeling light, not nearly drunk but nicely buzzing as you could hold your liquor well. Stepping in Hoseok smirked “Imma flip things up, If i sink this shot ya’ll gotta do my request” Folding his left arm around his back he took a few steps away from the table and focused on nailing the center shot, and to your surprise he actually did nail it. “Hmm little devil, I request that you take a shot” Your eyebrows shot up as that sounded easy enough. “Oh dear, not a normal shot. I’m talking about a body shot, your partner needs to lay on the table and you have to follow all body shot steps down to the lime in his mouth.” Rolling your eyes you turned to Subin to ask if it was okay with him. Your buzzing partner agreed and insisted after you asked if he was sure. Laying his body down on the table with the crown of his head facing Hoseok and Teahyung. He lifted his shirt up to his chest so that you could sprinkle salt from his navel up to his chest. Filling the shot glass, you placed it above his belly button and gave him the lime wedge to slip between his lips. Taehyung gritted his tech as you climbed onto the white table situating yourself above Subins lap. People who were watching the game from afar gathered closer to watch as you once again asked Subin if it was okay and he smiled a yes. Leaning down you tentatively dragged your tongue from his belly button up to his chest licking up the salt, then dipped back down to his belly button and wrapped your lips around the shot glass leaning up and getting the liquid pour into your mouth and down your throat. You crawled up his body and carefully took the lime from his mouth, making sure to dig into the flesh of the lime and not actually touch his mouth. After all, you just met him and didn’t want him to think you were taking advantage of anything. Throwing the wedge into a discarded cup you hopped off of the table and handed Subin a napkin to wipe the remnants of salt and tequila off of his body. “Can we get on with the game?” Taehyung grumbled and you rolled your eyes nodding. Subin sunk his next shot and Hoseok took a shot of Tequila instead of chugging a beer. It was now 3 to 2 and Taehyung missed his next shot, too focused on the way you were fanning your hand over the back of your next from the warmth the liquor was giving you. It was your turn and you sunk your next shot causing Taehyung to chug the beer Jin handed to him. Hoseok smiled and once again moved his left arm around his back “Might as well make it interesting, another request for another trick shot” you rolled your eyes and smiled at the brunette as he wagged his eyebrows and closed his eyes. You truly did not think he would sink another trick shot, let along with his eyes closed. But as you watched the ball sink into one of your cups your eyes went wide. You heard hollers and screams hyping up the shot that Hoseok had just made and mentally readied yourself for another body shot. “If you’re thinking I’m going to have you do the same thing, you’re wrong” Your eyebrows furrowed and he smirked “It’s Subins turn to take a body shot” Taehyung let out a deep warning “Hoseok, don’t” You didn’t understand why he would have a problem with it but you turned around to look at Subin to ask if he was once again okay with such a thing. He nodded and in turn asked if you were okay. Smiling you handed him a shot glass. After you situated yourself the same way Subin had, you saw him falter on where to put the salt since your top stopped right above your navel, and you grabbed the bottle of salt from his hand and placed a trail from your collarbone up your next. You figured it was safer than your cleavage. Subin handed you the lime wedge and you softly bit into it watching him fill the shot glass and place it above your belly button. Layla looked down at you and smiled as she saw you getting chorus of “Fuck yeah y/n” which had made Nami who was sitting down roll her eyes. Climbing into your body and leaning down, Subin let his tongue drag along your collarbone to your neck slowly before leaning down and wrapping his lips around the shot glass in the same way you had done to him and leaned up to gulp it down. Leaning down once again he was about to take the lime wedge from your mouth when a hand n his shoulder stopped him. Before you could ask what was going on you saw a strand of red and felt a pair of lips on yours pulling the lime away. Taehyung had had enough, he was tired of seeing you with Subin and even more tired of the games Hoseok was playing. When he watched Subin lean down to your mouth he couldn’t take it anymore and his body reacted on it’s own. Doing what it had been wanting to do for years. You watched as Taehyung spit out the lime wedge a leaned back down to capture your lips in his in an upside down kiss. A chorus of oohs and oh shits followed which caused you to push him off and jump off of the table. You shook your head at him and wrapped your arms around your body “What the fuck Taehyung?” you asked but before anybody could answer you, you asked Jin where the bathroom was to which he pointed out and you ran there hearing a “wait” being yelled but you didn’t care you needed to get out of there. You were being watched by everybody and that accompanied with the kiss from someone you thought you hated and assumed he hated you as well, well that was too much. Walking into the first floor bathroom you slammed the door and made your way to the sink. You looked at yourself in the mirror then looked down, bracing your hands on either side of the sink trying to calm yourself down. You could hear the bass thumping, causing the walls to lightly vibrate. There was a loud knock on the door followed by a series of “y/n please please open the door.” Letting out a deep breath you ran your index finger along your lash line, wiping any excess makeup that had smudged during your beer pong game. Stepping towards the door you swung it open only to be greeted with your best friend flinging herself on your short frame despite the high heeled boots you donned. “Hi, I love you, and before you say it. I know you want to go home but please don’t let those people get to you. So what if Tae kissed you? Don’t even acknowledge that ass wipe, and omg you should’ve seen Navi’s face when he kissed you. She legit looked like she was going to blow up like some sort of doll filled with helium!” Layla placed her hands on either side of you, softly gripping your shoulders, her deep brown eyes staring into yours softly. “Hey, talk to me? If you really do want to go home, i’ll go with you. But I really think you shouldn’t let anything that just happened get you down. Let’s just go back to the living room and dance all these feelings away! You’ve got me, Jin, Subin and Casey and Val ‘not that i know where they are.” While she rambled on you took in your surroundings, noting the pristine glass shower situated in the corner followed by the chrome towel rack that supported plush light grey towels. The porcelain toilet stood across from it, tucked into a corner of the light grey walls that matched the towels. As she finished her speech you already knew what you had to do, you weren’t going to let this get you down. You were so fucking tired of letting people get to you, you had no control over your life growing up but you sure as hell had control over your current self. You had amazing friends, were incredibly intelligent, worked your ass off at both of your jobs and were happy with the way you looked. Quirking up the left corner of your mouth you leaned in and planted a big smooch on your besties left cheek. “Layla, you’re right” Surprise crossed your best friends face, followed by a knowing smirk. “That’s my best bitch! Let’s get our asses down there and show them what a bad bitch you are, not that you haven’t already. I mean, dude you totes slammed like 6 shots no problem and you look HOT AS HELL.” Giggling you took her arm into yours and let her take you down the hallway into the crowded living area. The LED lights lit a soft purple hue that bounced off of the cream colored walls, further creating that fantasy look that enticed party goers to let all their inhibitions go. You noticed someone had moved the coffee table to a far corner closer to the beer pong tables, which had expanded the makeshift dance floor. The DJ was bopping his head to the current track he was mixing and the sea of bodies moving themselves to the beat was massive. You clutched Layla’s hand in yours as she pushed her way through the dancers and you all finally settled closer to one of the couches that had been pushed to a corner opposite of the tables where Jin, Subin and Hoseok had been waiting for you two. Jin placed a hand on your shoulder as if you check if you were alright and you smiled while nodding. “I’m so so sorry y/n, are you okay?” Subin asked and searched your face for an answer. Smiling at the man who had been your partner in crime for the passed hour, you nodded. “It’s all good, no need to be sorry. I do need another drink though. I think that little stint in the bathroom may have sobered be up more than i’m happy about. Hoseok smiled and shouted a ‘Gotchu’ before he bounded back off to the kitchen mixing up some concoction you knew would be strong. “Theres seems to be a lot more dancing than before” you jutted your chin towards the sea of bodies and Jin laughed. “I think most people are in that drunks haze where dancing is all they can do since they can’t seem to stand straight.” You chucked softly as you knew all too well how dancing enticed drunk people. The brunette thrusted a clear cup into your hands, quirking an eyebrow at him he responded with a chuckle. “It’s just bourbon on the rocks” Testing the liquid in the cup you smiled confirming it was in fact bourbon and nothing gross. You spotted Nami hanging herself on Taehyung in the corner towards the tables, your eyes met as she looked back at you with what looked like rage. Leaning her body upwards she leaned in towards his right ear and appeared to be whispering something to which he shook his head while staring into his glass. This seemed to upset her, huffing she once again leaned back up and attached you pink gloss covered lip to his neck. For some reason this had annoyed you to no end. For years Nami had been al over the tall man, only to be semi rejected with her advances which had brought you an odd sense of joy and seeing her lips on his neck as he just stood there caused you to rip your gaze away fro the pair and bring your cup up to your still burgundy tinted lips as the lipstick had faded away and left you with a just bitten look. Leaning you head back you downed the contents of the glass and slammed it down on the nearby end table that was situated by the couch. “Let’s dance?” you handed Jin your purse pulling Layla to the dance floor with you, not needing an answer to your question. As you both pushed through to the middle of the grinding crowd you best friend leaned in to your ear letting you know she’d be right back. Before you could ask what she was doing you saw her watermelon headband bounding up to the DJ who nodded when she leaned in close to him. As the first notes of the beat started you couldn’t help the smirk that planted itself on your lips. You giggled as Layla shimmied her way towards you and the first lines of the song began. Letting your body sway to the music, Layla laid her hands on your hips. “That’s my best friend, she a real bad bitch. Got her own money.” You both sang as you moved your hips in her hands. Placing both of your hands on her shoulders you turned her around and pulled her back close to your chest. Jin had been staring at your friend’s hips swaying along with yours and you decided you wanted to put on a show for him. Running your hands up her tight covered thighs up to her waist she leaned forward and gave her ass a little twerk causing you to chuckle. Turning her body around she gripped your hand in hers and spun you around, you made sure to wiggle your hips as you spun. “She been down since the jellies and the bow-bows” you shimmied your hips and saw Casey and Val bounding their way towards you two. As they got closer you noticed Caseys Peter Pan hat had gone missing and Vals pink lipstick was smudged, both girls walking hand in hand. Throwing Casey a knowing smirk she shrugged lightly and Layla wrapped her arms around both girls, creating a circle. “Where have you BEEN?” Layla yelled over the music at the two but shook her head after taking in their appearances “Nevermind I don’t want to know, wait, or do I?” wiggling her eyebrows she smoothed down Caseys wild blonde bob. Val seemed to enjoy the blush that had formed on Caseys cheek and she leaned close to place a kiss on either cheek, further fueling the crimson on her cheeks. As the intro to Bad Bitch by Bebe Rexha came into play you all raised your hands up into the air and swayed to the beat. Hoseok came into view, thrusting a shot into each of your friends hands and you all posed for his snapchat video while downing the shots of what tasted like whiskey. “Gross, I don’t know how you like liquor” Casey said, her cute face scrunching up into a sour expression and you giggled. Leaning down you touched your toes and twerked your ass to the beat earning a “fuck it up” from Layla and Val. As you ground your hips back into your best friend you looked up catching Taehyungs burning gaze on your flushed face. Cocking an eyebrow up at him you turned around in Layla’s hold swaying your hips. “Ugh, prissy bitch incoming” Layla whispered into your ear and you followed her eyes to Nami who pulled Michelle and a bored looking Taehyung onto the dance floor. Your eyes followed Navi’s movements as they slid up and down the devils chest and Michelle settled her hands on his shoulders behind him. Your jaw tensed as Nami’s hands trailed up to his neck. Meeting his dark gaze you narrowed your eyes slightly and shook your head, turning around and grabbing Hoseoks hands pulling him closer to you. The LED lights turned a deep red hue as the opening to Streets - Silhouette remix started and Val exclaimed “Let me put this on insta, y/n your horns loom so good in this light!” Posing with your back towards Hoseoks with your head leaning onto his shoulder, the latter gripped your hips and leaned his face into your neck while Val took the picture. As the tune changed and the beat dropped with it’s intoxicatingly slow beat you swayed your hips against Hoseoks, bending your knees and slowly sliding up and down his body. Trailing his fingers up your sides he grilled your hips and turned you around to face him. You heard Layla lean into Casey saying something along the lines of ‘oh shit’. ‘I found it hard to find someone like you’ you slid your body down the Brunettes, never leaving his gaze ‘send your location come thru’. Leaning back up you rolled your head around and he wrapped a hand into your hair, his other gripping your right hip tighter. your hands settled themself on his shoulders and you leaned towards his left, your eyes catching onto Taehyungs dark gaze, his eyes never leaving yours as Hoseok ground his hips into yours. Even as Nami wiggled her hips in front of his and trailed her hands under his blazer, his arms stayed at his sides, never touching the Angel nor the Bunny who still danced her body against his back. Hoseok knew his friend was watching and he couldn’t help but smirk, gripping your hair tighter he moved your face towards him and pulled you in until you were a few centimeters from his lips as he moved your hips along with his. ‘We belong and I can’t be without you’ Doja’s voice crooned through the speakers as Hoseok leaned in closer to your lips over the hazey cloud of smoke and tightly packed bodies. You internally debated wether or not you truly wanted him to close that gap and land his lips on yours, but the only thing you could think of was the gaze of a certain someone on yours. Before you fully decided on if you wanted the man in front of you to kiss you, your body was pulled away from his. A strong grip was formed around your wrist and all you registered was Layla and Casey wide eyes before you were being pulled away from the dancing bodies and up the stairs. You barely registered the click of a door being opened followed by your back hitting the hard wood. “What the hell were you doing?” Taehyung rasped out staring deeply into your eyes with a mixture of what looked like want and fury. You placed your hands on his chest pushing him back slightly and jutted your chin upwards. “Excuse me? I was dancing with my friends and Hoseok, not that that’s any of you business” Taking a step towards him. “What the hell do YOU think you’re doing? dragging me up to this room and thinking you can manhandle me.” Receiving no answer you shook your head and were prepared to turn around and walk right back out of that door. “You drive me fucking insane. Seeing that Subin guys hands all over you and then you dancing like that with my best friend.” You felt yourself being pressed against the door once again with his large hands on either side of your head, his rings glinting against the soft light filtering in through the open curtains. Cocking your eyebrow up at him you stood your ground. “What? are you Jealous?” you snorted out. “Yeah, yeah I fucking am” At his surprising answer you looked up seeing nothing but want in his deep eyes with a glint of something else you couldn’t quite place. “You’re fucking insane. Don’t play with me” you rasped out, your voice hoarse from singing and dancing earlier. “I’m not playing” was all you heard before your head knocked back against the wooden frame of the door followed by a pair of plush lips crushing yours with a ferocity you suddenly craved. He tasted like cinnamon and liquor and you loved it. Something inside you both seemed to snap in that moment and you trailed one of your hands up, curling your fingers into his soft hair and tugging on the makeshift horns it was styled into. Your other hand settled itself onto his warm chest fingering the labels of his blazer. Taehyung growled out at you reciprocated the kiss and trailed his right hand down the door, settling on your hip and pulling you impossibly closer to his body. Feeling teeth nibbling at your lower lip you gasped out and he took the chance to slide his tongue into your mouth, your tongues immediately fighting for dominance. Tugging his hair harder you felt his hand that had been on your hip slide lower until it was gripping a handful of your ass cheek, followed by a grunt. You could still hear the music that was thumping downstairs but it was slowly being drowned out by the man in front of you. The plush pair of lips that was against yours slowly trailed down to your jaw, nipping at the flesh softly until they reached your neck. Nuzzling his face against your warm flesh as he littered the area with whisper soft kisses. Slipping your hand under his blazer you trailed your nails lightly along his skin earning a low hiss from his deep voice. Smirking, you dug you nails harder “You’re playing with fire babygirl” Taehyung gripped both of your hands into one of his large palms and pressed them against the door frame grinding his hips into yours. Feeling his length against your covered core you couldn’t help the soft whine that escaped your lips. Taehyung trailed his lips back to your neck and sucked on your pulse point causing you to arch your back. “Y/n i really don’t want to stop, but I need to know that you want this too” the man in front of you pulled back slightly while he waited for a response. Letting out a small ‘yes’ he leaned back down capturing you in another searing kiss. Flexing your wrists in an outwards circular motion you freed yourself from his grip and took a step forward placing your hands against his chest and effectively spinning him around so his back hit the door. Despite the height different even with your heels you kept your palms flat on his chest with your strength, keeping him against the door. Arching a dark brow up at you Taehyung smirked. “Not going to lie, that was pretty hot” you felt him grumble against your mouth as it attached itself to his tan neck. Sucking a few bruises against his flesh you felt his need growing against your stomach and you couldn’t help your involuntary clench of your thighs. His smell was intoxicating, a mixture of fresh linen, cinnamon and musk. You felt his hands trail up the backs of your thighs and grind the flesh under your ass, signaling you to wrap your legs around his waist. Leaving one more bite against his neck you complied and jumped up latching your legs around his sturdy hips. Walking you both backwards, Taehyung leaned you downwards until your back was hitting the large bed tucked against the wall. Arching your back towards him you pulled him onto your body by his shoulder and moaned into his mouth as he captured your lips in his. Biting down on your lower lip hard, Taehyung ground his hips down against yours. While his mouth felt incredible against yours you knew you wanted, no, needed more.“Need more” you whispered out causing his to chuckle against your lips and lean his body up. Smirking down at you he cocked his head to the side and trailed his index finger up your torso and chest. “Sorry love, I couldn’t hear you. What was that?” Rolling your eyes you reached up tugging his hair into your grip. “I said, I.Need.More” you said though gritted teeth at the knowing look in his eyes. “Why didn’t you say so earlier?” before you could retort you felt his mouth latch itself on your collarbone and his hands trailing down your legs, pulling the zippers to your boots down before tossing them on the floor somewhere. Trailing his hands behind your back he began trying to undo your top. “While these straps are hot, they aren’t fucking functional for shit. How the hell do I take this off?” Taehyung practically growled out causing a chuckle to leave your lips. Leaning up slightly you helped him unhook the main portion of the top and pull the strappy harness over your neck. Tossing the item he had been fumbling with to the side he couldn’t stop admiring your breasts covered only by your black lace bra. You shivered as he trailed his hands up your chest, his cold rings causing your nipples to perk up and a gasp to leave your mouth. Leaning his face down, Taehyung started trailing soft kisses along your chest downwards to your torso and back up. His hands were once again at your back, this time working fast successfully unhooking your bra. Looking into your eyes he hooked his fingers under the straps on your shoulder and slowly pulled down releasing your breasts from their confinement. Biting down on his lip he started at your perky nipples and full breasts. He had always loved your curves and didn’t ever think he’d get to see them this way. You felt his soft lips wrap around one of your nipples and gasped as his tongue lightly flicked against the hard pebble. Your hand in his hair pulled him closer to your chest and he smirked. He pinched your other nipple between his fingers which earned a low moan. His mouth being soft on one of your nipples and his fingers being rough on your other one caused an intoxicating juxtaposition and you couldn’t help the little whines that left your throat. Fiddling with your button and zipper, Taehyung successfully started to pull your pants down, leaning up and leaving your nipple with a loud pop of his mouth. Tugging to pull your pants off of your legs he hissed when he saw your core only covered by your thin lace panties. You heard your pants hit the floor in a loud thump and bit your lip in nervousness as you realized just how exposed you were in front of this infuriatingly beautiful man. “You’re fucking beautiful” He rasped out, trailing his eyes up your body and landing on your face. Before he could hike your legs open and upwards you spoke up “You have way too many articles of clothing on” Smirking he complied with your request and popped the single button holding his blazer together, sliding it down his shoulders and throwing it in a heap on the floor. You heard his shoes being kicked off as well before he leaned back down to resume his earlier ministrations. His large hands slid down the insides of your thighs and pulled them open to reveal your soaked panty covered core. You swore you head him let out a low whine but before you could comment on it you felt a warm pair of lips latch onto your clit through the fabric. Arching your back off of the bed you gripped his shoulder in your hand. Taehyung rubbed his index and middle finger along your slit and hooked themselves around the fabric pulling it to the side and exposing yourself to the cool air and his waiting mouth. Laying his left palm flat against your lower tummy he leaned in giving you a soft tentative lick to your slit. Biting your lip between your teeth you moaned out when he latched his mouth around your clit and sucked harshly. “F..Fuck” Hearing your moan he sucked against and gripped the flesh of your thigh with his other hand keeping your legs open. Alternating between sucking and flicking his tongue against your sensitive nub he loved the way you tasted and couldn’t get enough of it. If it was up to him he would do this all day every day. You ground your hips up into his mouth causing him to smirk against your cunt. “Needy” he growled out and trailed his fingers that had been on your thigh down to your slit, running the tip of his middle finger around your opening before sliding itself in to the knuckle. You brought your right fist to your mouth and bit down to keep yourself from moaning out. Slowly pumping his finger in and out, he watched as your finger disappeared into your wet heat taking him in so good. “Fuck you’re wet” Looking up into your eyes he saw you biting down onto your fist and stopped his ministrations “ If you want more I need to hear you babygirl” Muffling a ‘please’ you released your fist from your mouth and wove it into his hair. Pleased with your sounds he continued sliding his finger in and out of you, adding his index finger into your heat hissing at how tight you were. “Shit you’re tight, gotta make sure you’re nice and ready for my big cock babygirl” Arching your back, you felt his press against your inner walls and curl his fingers causing you to dig your fingernails into his shoulder and tug his hair harder with your other hand. Latching his mouth back onto your clit he lightly hummed which sent vibrations through your body. Whining with need you continued grinding your hips up onto his face and rolled your eyes closed. Taehyung looked up at you watching your fucked out expression and almost choked when he heard you whining his name. Working his tongue against your click he started to harshly pump his fingers into you before slowing down and inching his middle finger into your heat. You felt your cunt burning at the stretch but the look in his eyes caused another gush of arousal to seep out and coat his fingers further. “Jesus..fuck you’re so hot and you taste so fucking delicious” As he slowly pumped his fingers in and out you felt your stomach clenching, that familiar feeling on your realize building with each flick of his tongue against your clit. “Tae.. Tae i’m going to cum if you keep doing that.” Sucking harshly he curled his fingers and pressed against your g spot “Cum babygirl, let me taste you before I slid my fat cock into your needy cunt” Rolling your eyes back you felt your legs start to shake as you gripped his hair almost painfully between your fingers. Your stomach tightened and you felt yourself clench around his fingers. Your breath becoming shallow as you let out a series of ‘oh fuck yes’ and ‘omg omg’ your hand that had been on his shoulder came up to your chest as your pinched your nipple between your feelings and felt the metaphorical dam of your orgasm approaching. Taehyung sucked harshly before grazing his teeth lightly against your clit and your eyes shot open feeling your legs convulse and your toes curl. With a final whine you felt yourself cum all over his tongue which he licked up like a starved man. Breathing deeply you felt the sweat drip down your brow for your intense orgasm and when he stood your eyes followed down his torso gleaming with sweat and down to the prominent bulge in his pants. Biting your lip you caught him staring at your cunt that had just cum around his finger and he started to pull your beyond soaked panties down and off of your legs. Looking back up into your eyes he slipped each finger between his plums lips and licked them clean. Groaning at the action you felt yourself clench. “Think you can take more baby?” He smirked at you and you wrapped your legs around his waist pulling him against you and ground your soaking cunt against his covered length. “You’re getting me all dirty, fuck that’s hot” He growled out and slid his fingers down unbuckling his belt. Popping the button of his pants, he pulled the zipper down with your eyes following every movement. Sliding his pants down his thighs he kicked them off and hooked him thumbs into his black briefs. You couldn’t tell if you were really drooling but once his slid his fried down and his cock sprang free you knew me heard your very audible groan followed by a clench of your thighs. Sliding his hand along his shaft, he pumped his leaking length a few times and reached to the side opening a drawer and seemingly looking for a condom. Gripping his arm you shook your head “I’m on the pill, are you clean?” His eyes widened at the possibility of what you were saying and he nodded “I haven’t had sex in a few months and when I did I wore a condom, I also get checked every month if you want to see the results I have them on my pho-“ You cut him off by leaned up and kissing him. As you layed back down against the pillows you smiled up at him an he swore he felt his heart flutter and his cock pulsate. Hooking his right index finger under your thin leather choker he pulled you up and he ground his uncovered cock against your dripping pussy. “As much as I love these, they have to come off they’re barely hanging on your head. Not knowing what he was talking abut you felt his fingers prodding at your scalp and finally run through your hair with the devil horned headband and clips in his hand. Setting them down on the beside table he leaned back piping his cock and wrapping his fingers around his thick head of his shaft. Leaning down he took your mouth against his and you felt his thick tip push against your slit. Locking your ankles around his back you ran your hands down his shoulder and gripped his back. Your walls pulsated around him as he slid in inch by inch and you threw your head back as your walls accommodated his thick size. When he finally bottomed out in your heat he stilled letting you relax as he filled you to the brim. Sliding his tongue against your he grunted when you involuntarily clenched around him. “You're so fucking tight, you make me crazy” he growled out and settled his mouth against your neck, nipping and sucking the skin as he slowly pulled out only to ram himself back in. Moaning loudly your grip on his shoulders tightened and you knew you were leaving crescent moons on his luscious tan skin. “Crazy? you seem pretty soft to me. Why don’t you fuck me and show me just how crazy I make you” you teased. After sucking harshly on your neck he sat back up and gripped the undersides of your thighs pulling them apart from his hips. “You’re so bad, want me to ruin you? Open you up with my fat cock?” you nodded and trailed your tongue along your lower lip preparing yourself for what he was about to do. Ramming himself up into you again you grated your teeth and looked up into his dark eyes. His rhythm was slow and harsh, pounds into you with each thrust of his hips. Your walls enveloped him and he swore he wasn’t giving you up after this, hell he wasn’t giving you up after that first kiss on that beer pong table. He was going to make sure you knew how he felt and hopefully you felt the same way. If not, he’d respect it but at least he’d know you knew how he felt. Watching your tits bounce with each thrust he heard you mumble out a raspy ‘faster’ and he complied, pushing your thighs farther up against your chest. At this knew angle you swore you felt him in your stomach. “Oh god” you ground out and his eyes flashed even deeper if that was possible “Fuck yeah, moan for me y/n” Sliding himself in and out of you at a fast pace, you could hear his balls slapping against your ass. The room filled with shallow breathes and curses spewing from either of your mouths. Taehyung slid his palms under your ass and gripped your cheeks between his large hands, squeezing harshly before pulling you up so you were sitting on his lip with his cock still stuffed inside of you. As he thrusted upwards you met his thrusts by bouncing your hips and wrapping your legs around his waist. His hands held you by your ass, pushing and pulling your body on and off of his cock. Leaning towards him you sucked a bruise onto his neck and wrapped your arms around the back of his neck. Feeling his cock his that sweet spot you shuddered and clenched around him tightly. “Stop doing that before I cum” he gritted out and you pulled back from his neck smirking. “mm maybe that’s what I want” With a sharp thrust upwards into your tight cunt he splayed his right hand agains the bottom of your spine and pulled you as close as you could get. “You’re devilish, I swear. You want me to fill up your little pussy with my cum? is that what you want? to get filled?” his deep baritone voice filled your ears and you clenched impossibly tighter around his shaft. “T..Tae fill me up..I need it!” you moaned out loudly and he pushed your body back down onto the bed, pushing your ankles towards your chest he situated himself on his knees and started ramming into you to the point where your body slid against the bed. Reaching one hand down, he lightly gripped your neck. “Yeah? want me to fill you up? Then cum baby, cum all over my cock.” “Tae..Tae..I’m going t..to cum. Fuck you’re so deep” your eyes fluttered closed as he gripped your throat and you held onto his back. “Cum for me y/n, let me feel you soak my cock as I fill you to the brim” Feeling your body start to convulse you opened your eyes to see his fucked out face, sweat dripping down his cherry colored hair and down his neck. His hand flexing on your neck and his abs flexing with every thrust. His low moan of your name sent you over the edge and you clenched around him. Your thighs closed around his hips and you moaned out his name. Curling your toes your this quivered and your inner walls fluttered around his throbbing shaft. Arching off of the bed and towards him his grip on your neck loosened and he leaned down capturing your hips in his as his hips stilled and you felt his warm cum spitting inside of your waiting heat. Thrusting his cock back in and out slowly he let out a low groan as the remnants of his cum filled you. Taking deep breath he watched your face as he slowly slipped out of you and trailed his eyes down to watch the clear and white liquid leak out of you. Letting out a deep whine he leaned forward and captured your lips between his. His lips were soft against yours, still passionate but not as fiery as they had been earlier. Pulling back his gaze studied your face. “Tae..I” before you could continue he shook his head. “Wait before you say anything, please let me get this out. I’m sorry for the way things happened tonight but I don’t regret any of it. Iv’e literally liked you since we first argued about the attributes of the human brain during psych. That one time you called me an aloof imbecile I almost pulled you out of class and kissed that pretty look off of your face. I assumed you hated me and it made me mad, instead of being a normal human being and just asking you why you hated me I decided to take it out on you. If you didn’t like me, at least I could gain your attention arguing with you.” “And tonight, seeing you with those other guys..I couldn’t help but think it would’ve been better if it was me. I needed to stop being a pussy and just fucking tell you how i felt.” He shook his head as he spoke. “ What about you and Nami? and the fact that you laughed the other day when she made fun of what I should be for halloween and my tattoos” Scrunching his face he sighed. “First of all Nami is just a friend, well more like a family friend. Iv’e known her since I was young and I guess I was just used to her being there. Nami and i have never done anything and never will. Secondly, I didn’t laugh at whatever she said. to be completely honest I drowner out her voice after she asked how you got an invite. I has laughed at a meme Jin sent me of our other friend Namjoon whos away for a semester in Paris, with a bald cap on looking like a grandpa due to his old school vibe he always has. That being said, i’m sorry I never defended you when she said anything to or about you. I really wanted to but you were always so good at defending yourself and that one time Jose defended you, you had turned around and told him you didn’t ‘need a man’ to defend you. So that combined with me thinking you hated me, I just assumed you’d end up really hated me and wouldn’t give me the time of day when we argued anymore.” Climbing off of your body Taehyung sat down next to you and studied your expression. “I don’t hate you per say, I hated that you always argued with me, I hated that you scored higher than be despite never seeming to study while I worked my ass off, I hated that you came from money, you never had to fight for what you wanted or what you deserved. I hated that you were Nami’s friend and always seemed so aloof, like you really didn’t care about anything. But I didn’t..I don’t hate you as a person” you turned towards him. “Who said I never study? My parents would kill me if I scored sub-par. Hell, the only reason I can live here with Jin is if i keep up my grades and don’t disappoint them. If i didn’t care about anything my ass would be living in on campus housing and having an RA breath down my throat while my parents called me everyday asking if I was completing the study forms they sent over. Yeah I’m well off, but that’s my parents money and they worked hard for it. They put hard work and intelligence above all else.” your eyebrows rose at his confession and you get bad. You had assumed so much about him these passed two years and none of it seemed to be right. “I think that’s why I started to like you so much, you’re so intelligent, you work so hard at everything you do and you carry yourself like such a strong person. You kind of scare me if i’m honest” his deep voice chuckled and you smiled. “You’re beautiful inside and out” Taehyung said softly brushing his thumbs against your cheeks. You could feel the tenderness in his chest and your heart fluttered. “Maybe I liked you too, maybe that’s why I always waited for you to argue with me. I like how intelligent you are, I like that you always have something to say about whatever point I’m trying to prove.” You said softly and the corner of his mouth lifter slightly “liked? past tense” Rolling your eyes you covered your face and grumbled. “fine, LIKE. As in present tense” Taehyung stepped off of the bed and chuckled “THE y/n likes me? i’m honored. Sure its not cause I just made you cum twice?” throwing your arm off of your eye you watched his figure retreating into another door before flicking a light on. “Shut up Tae!” Chuckling he emerged from what you assumed was an ensuite bathroom with a wet cloth and situated himself between your legs. “I like when you call me Tae” he said and you blushed, feeling the cool cloth wipe gently along your folds. Sliding the cloth along your legs he finished cleaning you up and smiled up at you gently with his every so beautiful boxy smile. Returning to the bathroom to drop off the cloth you heard the water turn on and assumed he was cleaning himself off as well. Letting your gaze look around the room you noticed the bookshelf across from the bed you were currently on. On its shelf sat different picture frames, books and what looked like plushies. On the other side of the same wall sat a dark grey desk complete with a laptop, a mini plant and various knickknacks and a chair with a navy blue hoodie that you noticed to be Taehyungs hanging off of the back of the chair. Next to the bed was a nightstand that had a lamp, an iPhone charging dock and a bottle of water. The door that connected to the rest of the house was on the same wall. Against the wall to the right of the bed was a large dark grey dresser that matched the desk and what you now noticed to be the bed frame. On the dresser sat bottles of cologne, accessories and a picture frame. Next to the dresser was the door Taehyung had disappeared into and another door you assumed to be maybe a closet. Furrowing your brows you realized this was Taehyung’s room and not just another guest room. Up until his confession earlier you assumed he lived in a luxurious off campus house paid for by his parents. While this was a luxurious Townhome it still wasn’t what you had pictured. As Taehyung walked out of the ensuite he opened a drawer and dug through until he found was he was looking for. Sauntering up to the bed he handed you a t-shirt and what had seemed to be your phone that had been tossed on the floor earlier and pulled on a pair of briefs over his legs. Holding the soft cotton material in your fingers you smiled and thanked him before slipping over your smaller frame. Checking your phone you immediately noticed a series of texts from Layla starting from concerned up to a text that had a winky face telling you to ‘get it, I came upstairs to check on you but your moaning let me know you were doing just fine’. Smacking your palm against your face you blushed bright crimson. Taehyung who had looking over your shoulder when you gasped at the text was giggling and you smacked his chest. “Ow, you hit hard” He said while still giggling. “So, would you..uh stay the night and maybe grab breakfast with me in the morning? I mean know that we’ve realized we both don’t hate each other and we kind of lik-“ Pressing your lips to his you felt him smile against your lips before you pulled back. “Yes, now can we sleep?.” Nodding Taehyung pulled you against his chest and brushed a few strands away from your face as your eyes fluttered closed. Running his hand along the flowers that decorated your right arm he smiled to himself before eventually closing his eyes as well. Interesting how Misunderstandings happen, isn’t it?

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Omg this was supposed to just be a drabble from the pic of red haired Tae and inso from a game of beer pong, BUT ALAS this monster was born. this is my first fit so any constructive criticism is appreciated. Any love is beyond appreciated too <3 I have some ideas for other pics but i just want to get my page situated first. Any messages are welcome too <3 i lub talking to people.

-C otherwise known as, Potitties

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