#like girl's seminar paid off as best it could

[cherrywhite]

Oh man.. a part of me can't help but wonder when Paige and Hayward got to talking about Carpenter and Faulkner. Was it when they got to Bellwhethers? Did they arrive there and Hayward talked about how he found it only to have Paige set him straight on what exactly happened, that Carpenter and Faulkner weren't to blame for it? Did they have to go through a whole "let's talk about the elephant in the room" moment and did Paige also tease Hayward about his whole "I'll hunt you down until the ends of the Earth" speech?

And on that note, I also can't help but wonder how Paige told the story. Considering how much emphasis TSV puts on stories, I can't help but wonder what Paige did or didn't tell to Hayward. Did she tell him about their conversation at the restaurant, when Carpenter revealed what happened to her parents? When Faulkner stood up to the angel? It's especially amusing to me that Hayward immediately refers to Faulkner as "the lory thief" like.. did Paige and Hayward have a good laugh at the absurdity of Paige getting put in the trunk of her own car because she stumbled upon their attempted theft? And that's the thing that stood out most to him? This isn't meant to be Deep Thoughts about this part or anything I just am fascinated by the image of Paige and Hayward talking about the other two, a conversation that completely changed Hayward's perspective of Carpenter to the point that she's now an old friend to him.

[sevgilim111]

The price of being bad (Dad’s best friend!Keegan Russ x F!Reader)

NSFW! Smut (18+)

Summary: Skipping Uni to blow some guy backfired after getting caught by your father. Unable to face you, he passes the responsibility to his best friend, Keegan, to teach you a lesson. How was he to know what kind of lesson you’d be receiving? ;)

Warnings: AgeGap (reader is in her 20s, Keegan is 39) Oral m!receiving, throat fucking, p in v (unprotected, always practice safe sex irl!), name calling, use of ‘good girl’, swearing, roughish sex, kind of non-con but not really? reader is kind of a brat, and Keegan’s a bit of a pervert! I’m sorry if I missed anything!

Missing university lectures was something you had grown accustomed to, and up until this point, you thought it didn’t matter to anyone, given that you were an adult and the tuition was being covered—albeit by your father. Still, you were an adult, and unlike school, where every absence was meticulously noted and punished, university operated very differently.

There was much more freedom, your education was your responsibility and it was your choice if you wanted to waste your father’s money and not turn up. So by default, the lecturers and seminar leaders wouldn’t care, they were getting paid regardless. It was no issue for your father anyway, he worked for the military, they get paid a lot, right?

This is why, like on most days, you opted to stay in and invited a guy you found moderately attractive over while your father was out with his colleagues. When you sent that message saying you were home alone, he wasted no time rushing over. It was a bit pathetic, but you couldn’t care less when you were horny yourself. The moment he arrived, you pulled him inside and quickly got his trousers off. He had no objections as you pushed him onto the couch, especially when you sank to your knees. With a deft touch to his length, giving it a few strokes, you took him into your mouth.

In all honesty, he wasn’t that big, much to your disappointment. But it just meant you could take all of him in your mouth with ease, leaving him a sputtering mess as you worked your magic.

But of course, it was just your luck, that it was this particular day that your university rang up your father, snitching on you and asking him why you hadn’t made many appearances and if it meant that you was dropping your course. To say the least, your father was fuming.

The sounds of the guy's gasps and whimpers completely overshadowed the rumble of your father's car arriving outside, along with the muffled noises escaping your lips as you bobbed your head. In the position you found yourself, there was no time to react as your father burst through the front door, his furious glare piercing through the air.

You gasped and jumped away from his dick, your mouth making a popping noise as you fell back on your arse as you stared at your father with wide eyes. ‘Shit shit shit shit!’

“What the hell-?!” The guy scrambled to his feet, rapidly fiddling with his zipper. You were so fucked.

Your father charged at him, seizing the back of his collar with a fierce grip and yanking him toward the open door. The sudden movement caught him off guard, and he instinctively raised his hands in a defensive gesture, his eyes wide with fear.

“Sir, I’m so-“ A startled yelp escaped him as your dad finally released his grip on the collar and shoved him out through the open door, his hands fumbling to fasten his trousers before your dad slammed the door with a resounding thud.

You sat there, heart racing, your eyes wide with panic as you slowly pushed yourself up off the floor. Your dad’s shoulders heaved with a simmering rage that sent a chill down your spine, and when he turned to face you, his glare was laced with venom. If looks could kill, you would have crumpled to the floor in an instant.

“You’ve got some serious explaining to do,” he growled, his voice low and dangerous, jabbing a finger in your direction as he stormed toward you. He seized your arm, compelling you to sit on the couch.

You plopped down, the cushions enveloping you as a wave of shame washed over you, creeping up your spine like a cold draft.

“You think you can skip university, which I’m paying for, to suck some low life’s dick?!” He towered over you, his voice booming with a threatening edge. You swallowed hard, desperate to escape the fury blazing in his gaze.

“What on earth were you thinking?! I’m not pouring all this money into your education just for you to whore around!”

You opened your mouth to respond, but the words died on your lips as he unleashed another round of shouting. It felt as if the very walls were trembling.

“Honestly, I can’t even bear to look at you right now. You’re grounded, and from now on, I’ll be the one driving you to and from university. No daughter of mine is going to fail because of this nonsense.” He turned away, pinching the bridge of his nose, eyes squeezed shut. The depth of his anger was unlike anything he had ever felt before.

You rose to your feet, irritation bubbling up to replace your fear. “Are you kidding me?! I’m not a child anymore; you can’t just ground me!”

“I absolutely can and will! You live under my roof, so it’s my fucking rules that matter. Your age doesn’t change that.” He spun back to face you, his glare sharp enough to cut.

You crossed your arms defiantly, your brows furrowing in anger. “You can’t treat me like I’m still a kid!

“Enough! I am your father and you will listen! Go to your goddamn room. Now!” He gestured sharply toward the stairs, his furious eyes locked onto you as you stood there, mouth agape in disbelief.

After a tense moment of silence, frustration bubbled up inside you, and you let out an exasperated roar before stomping up the stairs. You clenched your jaw tightly, slamming your bedroom door with such force that it rattled the entire house.

Your dad exhaled a weary sigh, rubbing his face with his hands, the weight of the situation leaving him drained.

He sank onto the couch, hunched over with his head in his hands. He never imagined his little girl would act this way, especially engaging in… those kinds of activities. What father would? Perhaps he wouldn’t have been so upset if you weren’t skipping university and squandering his hard-earned money. “Damn kids…” he muttered under his breath, attempting to alleviate the throbbing headache by massaging his temples.

A knock at the front door jolted him from his thoughts, reminding him that Keegan had been waiting in his car. “It’s open,” he called out, letting out a sigh as he pushed himself up to head into the kitchen.

Keegan swung the door open, immediately spotting him reaching for a beer from the fridge.

“She causing more trouble?” Keegan inquired, shutting the door behind him as he sauntered into the room, leaning against the kitchen counter to observe your dad as he cracked open the beer and took a long swig. “You caught all that, huh?” your dad said, wiping his mouth as some of the beer dribbled down his chin.

Keegan laughed, nodding in agreement. “I saw the guy stumble out your front door, pants half-zipped.”

Your father let out a grunt, rubbing his temple as the headache intensified.

“You doing alright?” Keegan asked, tilting his head with concern. “Yeah, just… I wish she’d listen to me. I don’t want her to skip university for, well, you know…” he replied, shaking his head before taking another gulp of his beer.

“Well, you scared the guy shitless, so he won’t be back anytime soon,” Keegan chuckled, recalling how the guy had practically flung himself away, fumbling with his pants. Your dad couldn’t help but laugh too, remembering the panic in the guy’s eyes.

“What do you wanna do about it?” Keegan asked as your dad’s serious expression returned.

“I can’t even look at her right now. It’s one thing to pull that shit in my own house, but she’s squandering my money. I want her to get a solid education, you know? That’s why I invested everything into this,” he replied, downing the rest of his beer and tossing the empty can into the trash.

“I’m trying to remember a time when she wasn’t so goddamn bratty. I love her, so much, but Jesus does she piss me off.” He continued, pressing his hands against the counter. His frustration was palpable.

“Yeah, I remember that time we had to dash out of work to get her after she swiped your car and got pulled over.” Keegan chuckled, trying to lighten the mood. Your dad rolled his eyes, a small, affectionate grin breaking through his annoyance. “Yeah, nearly gave me a damn heart attack.” He pursed his lips contemplating how to handle the situation with you. His gaze met Keegan’s bright blue eyes for a moment, an idea springing to mind.

Though Keegan was younger, they shared a strong bond. The military had forged a brotherhood among them, and he had grown to care for Keegan immensely. Over the years, Keegan had been the one to bail you out of numerous predicaments, and your father was grateful for that. That’s why he felt comfortable asking Keegan to step in. As your dad, you were less likely to heed his words, but Keegan had a better shot since you seemed to have a soft spot for him.

“Could you have a word with her? I feel like I’m talking to a brick wall lately; it’s like I’m dealing with a child. If you need to scare her a bit, go for it—just help me get her back on track.” He spoke earnestly, his eyes reflecting a hint of desperation.

Keegan paused for a moment, weighing his options on how to tackle the situation. After some thought, he nodded decisively. “Yeah, course. I’ll set her straight.” He agreed, pushing himself off the counter.

“Thank you, Keegan. Means a lot. She’s just so difficult.” Your dad exhaled in relief, also stepping away from the counter.

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll do my best.” Keegan offered a small smile to him, making his way back to the living room to start heading to your room.

“I’ll be in the garage.” your dad called after him, releasing a breath as he reached for another beer from the fridge, seeking solace in the garage to clear his mind. He was thankful the situation was in Keegan’s hands now. One less thing to worry about, he hoped.

However, he was naïve. And very oblivious to the twitch on Keegan’s lips when your dad gave him the green light to go into your room.

When Keegan first met you, you became all he thought about. Your bratty behaviour was more endearing to him rather than irritating. He loved the way you smelled, even when you reeked of alcohol. He loved the way the skimpy dresses rode up your thighs when you sat in the backseat of your dads car as you pouted about being caught. The way your folded arms pushed your tits up all for him to see in the rearview mirror. He’d always have to tuck his erection up to his waistband to hide it from your father, who scolded you every time, blissfully unaware of Keegan’s filthy thoughts.

All those nights he had to come get you from whatever situation you had got yourself into with your dad, he wished he could of got you alone to fuck you in the backseat of his car, teach you a lesson. Fuck the brattiness out of you.

Even though you spoke to him with the same disrespect, as if you were a teenager, it didn’t deter his perverted thoughts spiralling him into a horny mess. Even at night, when he was alone with his thoughts, he’d fuck himself into his hand with pictures from your instagram on his phone. You were much younger than him, almost 20 years difference, which just made you all the more intangible. It only made him want you more. Though you weren’t innocent, you still radiated sweet-like ignorance to the world. It was difficult for him to describe, but he really wanted to corrupt you in a twisted way. Teach you to not be a little shit with his own methods.

And, unknowingly, your father had just given him the go ahead.

Without warning, Keegan opened your door without knocking, shutting it behind him with a loud slam.

You looked up from your phone, your laid position on the bed making your daringly short shorts rise up over your arse. Keegan already felt his pants tighten at the mere sight of you, that familiar brooding expression plastered over your face.

“Fuck off.” You groaned, turning to look back at your phone with annoyance.

Keegan stepped closer, folding his arms and staring down at you with his piercing blue eyes. “Heard you bunked off uni to suck dick. Am I right?”

You scoffed, refusing to meet his eyes as you continued to scroll on your phone. “I’m an adult, I can do whatever the hell I want.”

Keegan’s eyes narrowed as he leaned down slightly, snatching your phone away from you. This pissed you off. You sat up, an irritated frown taking over your features.

“You sure as hell ain’t acting like an adult.” Keegan retorted, pushing you back down by the shoulder as you went to grab your phone back. You gritted your teeth, folding your arms just the way he likes, much to his satisfaction.

“If you’re just going to give me a lecture like my dad, save it. I’m not a kid and you can’t tell me what to do.”

Keegan tilted his head, tossing your phone onto your desk before meeting your eyes. “I’m not here to lecture you. I’m here to teach you a lesson.”

He suddenly grabbed the back of your hair, pulling you forwards from your sitting position so you were on all fours, face to face with his growing erection.

You yelped in surprise at his strong grip, catching yourself from falling off the bed by gripping the edge. “What the fuck, Keegan?” You struggled in his grip, attempting to get up but grunted when he yanked you back down by your hair.

“If you wanna be a slut and suck cock instead of going to uni-“ He used his other hand to start unzipping his pants, causing your eyes to widen at the growing realisation of what was happening.

“-then you’re gonna suck cock like a slut.” He lowered the top of his trousers just above his knees, leaving him in his boxers with a growing wet patch of pre-cum. His erection was practically poking out the top of his waistband, and you felt your pussy suddenly clench as you marvelled at the size covered by the fabric. Still, you wanted to resist a bit more, unwilling to give in so easy.

“Let me go you fucking perv!” You screeched, attempting to release yourself from his hold but only being yanked down again by your hair, eliciting another grunt as his grip became firmer.

“Fucking bitch, you shut your mouth before I throat fuck you till you pass out.” He seethed, pulling you closer to his crotch as he stared you down with a warning flashing through his pale blue eyes.

“Fuck you.” You spat, his threat instantly creating a pool between your parted legs. Still, you glared up at him defiantly, refusing to be tamed.

Keegan growled, your resistance turning him on and simultaneously irritating him in a twisted way. “You just want me to do it, don’t you?” He rapidly lowered his boxers, his erection finally springing free. You attempted not to salivate as you stared at the two angry veins spiralling up his shaft, curving upwards with his tip crying with pre-cum. He was much bigger than that other guy.

He sighed as he was released from the confinement of his pants, giving himself a few pumps to ease the ache as he watched your wandering eyes. He couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride, him being well endowed and well trimmed combined with the snaking v-line that peeked out from under his shirt was making your pussy become soaked by the second, and he could tell by the way your legs twitched. Your mouth had unintentionally opened, whether it was from being pleasantly shocked or because you wanted him in your mouth, or both, you didn’t know.

“Fucking whore, you’re practically drooling for it.” He muttered, tapping the tip of his cock harshly on your lips. The pre-cum stained your lips, and you instinctively licked them, letting the dull salty taste invade your taste buds. He tasted so fucking good, it made your cunt clench around nothing.

Keegan grinned as you licked your lips, finding your stunned silence amusing. “Nothing to say now? Yeah, didn’t fucking think so. Is the sight of my cock enough to shut you up? Fucking hell, didn’t know you was that much of a dumb whore.” He teased, chuckling at you mockingly.

You snapped out of your daze, looking back up at him and opening your mouth wider to say something snarky, but you was abruptly cut off by him shoving his whole length inside your mouth. The sudden invasion made you gag around him, his tip touching the back of your throat and filling your mouth.

Keegan released a guttural groan as he felt your warm, wet mouth envelop all of him, pushing your head closer so your nose was pressing against his pelvis. He kept you there, groaning louder as you continued to gag, the constrictions of your throat making his cock twitch in your mouth, only making you gag even more and making your throat even tighter for him.

“Fuckk, yeah, that’s a good fucking girl.” He grunted, still keeping your head pressed against him. You felt your eyes begin to water as the air you was sucking up through your nostrils was no longer enough as you choked on his length. “Good fucking girl.” He purred, cherishing the sight of you heaving and fighting for breath on him. “Bet you’ve never had a real cock like this, huh?” Just as you thought you’d pass out, he pulled your hair back to take your mouth off his cock. He was drenched in saliva, and your drool was starting to dribble down your chin as you coughed and greedily inhaled the air to catch your breath.

“Motherfucker-!”

“Shut the fuck up. Show me how much of a good cock-sucking slut you are.” Keegan roughly slapped his cock against your mouth. “Come on, show me that skipping university was worth it.” He ordered, slapping you with it again.

You panted, shooting him a nasty glare to attempt to cover up the fact your pussy was practically dripping and screaming for him. It annoyed you how turned on he was making you. Your cheeks were flushed, tears streaming down your face with drool staining your chin. Keegan felt his cock ache for stimulation again as he took in your appearance after having it shoved down your mouth.

“My dad’s gonna kill you.” You uttered with a small rasp, staring up at him with temerity.

He grew impatient; he gripped your hair tighter, his eyes narrowing darkly as gave himself a few strokes. “Let him try. You think that threat is going to stop me from getting what I want? As far as your dad knows, I’m getting you in line. And I intend to. Now suck my fucking dick before I shove it down your throat again.”

You wasn’t sure if you could handle choking on him for that long again. And you wasn’t exactly opposed to doing this. After all, Keegan was so attractive, and you had many fantasies of this. It wasn’t an opportunity you were going to pass up. So, after a beat of silence, you grasped the top of his foreskin and gently pulled it back to reveal more of his tip, to which you lazily licked his frenulum with the base of your tongue, swirling it up and over agonisingly slow. Keegan hummed, his free hand starting to trace your jawline and shifting up to pull back more of your hair, wanting to see every inch of your face as you went down on him.

You continued to give small kitten licks on his tip, shifting from his frenulum to the top. You maintained eye contact, which only drove Keegan even more crazy. You looked so damn good.

He panted and hummed every few seconds from the light stimulation you was giving him on his sensitive tip, but was quickly replaced with an abrupt, loud groan when you finally took half of his shaft into your mouth.

His hand gripped your hair tighter once again in attempt to stop himself from cumming, his free hand reaching down to grope the top of your arse and give it a firm squeeze.

His touch was magnetising, and only sent a wave of heat straight down to your pussy. You used one hand to hold the base of his length, and began to bob your head while your hand pumped him into your mouth at a steady rhythm, evoking sharp hisses and guttural groans from Keegan as he watched you.

“Mmph..yeah, that’s right baby, fuckk..” He slurred, grabbing and squeezing your arse tightly every time you swirled your tongue over his shaft while you moved your hand simultaneously with your head. You made a risky move: you took his whole length in your mouth, trying not to gag as much as you did the first time when he forced it to the back of your throat. He was so long, you shocked yourself with succeeding in taking all of it. Once you adjusted somewhat, you began to flex the back of your tongue, using the muscle to prod his tip that was bullying the back of your throat and threatening to force a gag from you. Keegan shuddered as you did this, his eyebrows furrowing and rising as you practically guzzled his cock.

“Damn kid, who taught you how to do that?” He groaned, sucking air in through his teeth with every flex and flick of your tongue while he was balls deep inside your mouth. His sounds went straight through your ears and down between your legs.

The build up of saliva was making obscene wet sounds with every movement of your head as you slurped and messily went down on him, refusing to break eye contact with his half-lidded eyes. Knowing he was enjoying this made you ache for friction.

The throbbing was intense, almost enough to hurt - you needed to touch yourself to ease the twinge; you balanced on your knees and used your free hand to shove down your shorts to play with your clit, the need for stimulation becoming too much to bare with every hiss and grunt Keegan made.

You drew lazy circles on your clit, obtaining muffled moans from your already filled up mouth, creating pleasant vibrations on Keegan’s shaft which forced him to squeeze your arse even tighter.

“Oh fuck, yes, yeah..play with yourself baby. Mmph- fuck, keep it in your mouth.” Keegan panted, gently bucking his hips to go a bit deeper into your mouth as you moaned and sucked his cock. He gently fucked himself into your mouth, giving you more incentive to circle your clit a bit faster while you kept your mouth hollow to allow him space to invade your mouth. You retrieved the hand that was stroking him back to the edge of the bed for balance, still on all fours while one hand remained down your shorts, creating electric waves of pleasure from your clit to your stomach.

“Shit..fuck-“ Keegan grunted as his patience snapped and finally used both hands to hold your hair, before letting loose and rapidly fucking your mouth. You couldn’t help but moan louder in surprise, but didn’t stop rubbing your clit as your slick started coating your fingers. You became a moaning mess as the combination of him throat fucking you and you rubbing your own clit created a familiar tension in your lower stomach, especially when seeing Keegan’s head thrown back and lost in ecstasy, eyes welded shut as his hips moved quickly to shove his cock in and out of your mouth.

He had dreamed of this, but nothing came close to the real thing, right there. He didn’t stop his quick rhythm, fucking himself into your mouth as you teased and rubbed your clit.

His heavy pants and hisses intertwined with your loud but muffled moans, the room hot and heavy as you both neared your finish lines. Every hump of his hips was making the knot get tighter and tighter. Your legs began to shake slightly, the intensity building more and more, but Keegan had other plans for you. He fucked your mouth with a few more snap of his hips before stopping, pulling out and opening his eyes to watch the string of saliva connecting his cock to your mouth break.

You whined, missing the feeling of your mouth being full.

“Shut up.” Keegan roughly grabbed your hips and turned you around so you was facing your wall, extracting a dazed yelp from you. “I wanna hear how you sound without your mouth full.” He said, yanking your shorts down wildly, revealing you had gone without underwear today.

“Fucking hell.” Keegan remarked in a pleasing tone to find your pussy slicked with your wet arousal, with no underwear to give you modesty. No, you was bent over with your cunt right in his face.

Keegan reached out, running a finger over your folds to collect some of your slick. “You really are a fucking slut, aren’t you? All this for some scrawny kid?”

You whined again and arched your back, searching for his fingers in attempt to get touched more as he pulled them away. Keegan chuckled at this, and delivered a sharp slap to your arse cheek, making you jolt in surprise.

“Such a needy fucking pussy you’ve got.” He muttered, giving his cock a few pumps as he admired your pretty, wet and inviting pussy.

You arched your back again, practically begging him to fuck you already.

“Hm? You want me to fuck this needy pussy now?” Keegan taunted, smirking evilly as he witnessed you go from a juvenile little shit to a desperate and needy mess.

“Please, Keegan, fuck sake.” You whimpered, the ache had become unbearable. You needed him to fuck you. And you was in no mood to be teased.

“Oh? Please what?” He teased, rubbing the head of his cock along your soaked folds. You whinged, trying to push back into him.

“Fuck me, please.”

“What was that, baby?”

“For god sake, fuck me, Keegan, plea-!” You unleashed a drawn out moan as he pushed the head of his cock inside your warm walls, eyes rolling to the back of your head as your wet cunt welcomed him with open arms with little restriction, his own drawn out moans sounding from behind you as you clamped down on him.

“Jesus, fuck - you’re so tight.” He gritted his teeth, slowly pushing himself further inside you as he gripped your hips with bruising harshness. Every inch he added brought out a series of moans and whimpers out of you as you arched back into him. He revelled in the feeling of your warm cunt enriching his desires he had to repress for so long, shutting his eyes briefly and holding himself back from cumming so soon. You felt like heaven, your pussy felt like nothing he’d ever felt before. It was hard to not pound into you without remorse, but your tightness was a bit suffocating for him.

Once he adjusted to your tight hole, he slowly pulled half way out, leaving only his tip inside you, before slamming his hips into your arse, making you lurch forward. He groaned loudly, not caring if your father heard him anymore.

He repeated the action, pulling out half way and snapping back into you. He shuddered as he felt your hole grow accustomed to his size and found himself moving faster after every snap of his hips. Your arse slammed against him with every motion, creating small ripples on your skin; much to his delight. He groped and squeezed your arse again, giving it a little smack as he began to fuck you just a bit faster.

You pathetically mewled and moaned as the short lived pain turned into a feeling you’ve never felt before by any man - fucking amazing.

“Oh fuck, fuck fuck fuck.” You were being loud, but you didn’t care. You gripped the sheets, eyes rolling everywhere, already cock drunk.

Your moans and curses only egged Keegan on, threatening to push him over the edge as your beautiful sounds made his cock twitch with every syllable.

“What would your daddy think, if he saw his daughter being a dirty bitch like this?” Keegan panted, leaning over you slightly to pull your tank top up and over your tits, kneading them and squeezing your nipples harshly as he fucked you harder. He savoured the sensation of your hard nipples and soft tits in his hands, massaging and pinching them gently, contrasting with the way he was fucking you like an animal in heat.

You welded your eyes shut, unable to answer with any smartass comment as the stimulation to your nipples and getting fucked was making the tension in your stomach return rapidly.

“Imagine he saw you like this, a dumb cock-drunk slut practically creaming on his best friends cock.” He uttered breathily, his words only making it more and more difficult to not cum all over him.

“He’d be so - fuck..He’d be so disappointed. Was it worth it baby? Was this worth skipping uni over?” Keegan managed to say through every rasp and grunt, relishing in the feeling of your arse bouncing and knocking into his hips.

“Mmph-! Fuck-! Y-yes!” Your eyebrows were furrowed and raised, the knot in your stomach tightening.

“Yeah? It was?” He cooed, leaving small and sloppy kisses on your shoulder blade.

“Yes yes yes yes!” You babbled, practically screaming when he returned to his upright position and pounded into you even faster and harder.

“Fucking cum on me then. I know you wanna cum. Can feel your cunt squeezing the shit out of me.” He groaned, feeling his own high becoming more and more in reach as your pussy clenched him tighter and tighter.

Your breathing became sharper and your moans became more erratic as the tension grew, threatening to be released at any second.

“Yeah that’s fucking right, I want to feel this pretty pussy cum on my cock.” He reached down under your hips and traced sloppy circles on your clit while his other hand gripped your waist to carry on pulling you back into his fast-moving hips.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck! Shit-! I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna fucking cum!” You whimpered loudly, his sloppy circles finally pushing you over the edge and releasing a huge wave of ecstasy and pleasure rattling throughout your entire body as you screamed his name, cumming harder than you ever have before with your body trembling.

It didn’t take long for Keegan to catch up as you came, your pussy was squeezing him and pulsing, practically milking it out of him.

“Shit-! You’re gonna make me cum.” He hissed, desperately fucking you with no particular rhythm to chase his own high.

“Fuck baby, I’m cumming..!” With a final pump, he released a low pitched moan as he he pushed himself deep inside you, teasing your cervix as his hot strings of white painted the inside of your walls, cock twitching and pulsing out the cum, the top of his body colliding with the top of your back as he almost collapsed as you milked out all the cum in his balls.

His head rested in the crook of your neck as you both panted, the sweat you both emitted evaporating as your bodies cooled, making you shiver.

You both stayed like that for a moment, riding out the bliss in a comfortable silence. Finally, Keegan pulled out, lifting his trousers and boxers up while you collapsed on your front in exhaustion. You could feel his hot cum snaking out of you and ruining your bed sheets, but you couldn’t care less. You felt so good in that moment, utterly and completely satisfied.

You made a small noise when you felt Keegan finger his cum back into your stretched hole, too tired to react much more, earning a low chuckle from him as he stared at you, completely fucked out.

“Gonna tell your dad you learnt your lesson, and that I’ll be driving you to university from now on, princess.”

[kuramirocket]

Mexican Enginner: Erika Antunez

Erika and her mom at CU Boulder

“My parents worked so hard to give my sister and I a better life,” said Antunez. “I saw my parents struggle, and my struggle is really nothing compared to what they had to go through. Now, we're all doing the hard stuff, and we got the grit to do it.” 

Numbers at first sight

Antunez’s parents have owned a food truck business in the Denver metro area for 22 years. Her love for math and sciences sparked in the second grade as she supported their family business across different baseball parks. 

“I always joke around saying I’ve been working since being in the womb. I was their weekly cashier. I had no calculator. I didn't write anything down, and all the orders and prices were in my head,” said Antunez.  

Those early experiences with mental math set her on the path to the University of Colorado Boulder Engineering’s Integrated Design Engineering program with an emphasis in electrical engineering and a minor in business. 

“During my freshman year projects, I was pretty much the electrical person of my group and became really interested in electrical. When I realized engineering management & entrepreneurship could be a concentration, I knew that was going to be a great fit.”

The COVID-19 pandemic then hit. Going remote was difficult as for most students, but she was relentless in persevering and attended office hours. 

“As a Hispanic, I don't see a lot of people like me in engineering. That's fine because I'm telling people, ‘don't let this be a fear and just keep going’. It’s really empowering,” she said. “There’s also some classes where I was the only girl in that class, but it was me and the professor that were the only women in my class. I'm here to do me.” 

Whether it’s her BOLD scholarship group or the CU Boulder’s chapter of the Society of Hispanic Professional Engineers (SHPE), where she is now the vice president, Antunez thrives in an environment where her amiable spirit shines through. 

Risk it all. Risk it now.

This past summer, Erika studied abroad in Croatia as part of an international business & management global seminar. It’s only appropriate that immediately after her Maymester abroad, she embarked on a 10-week internship at Deloitte.

“On my team, I worked on identity access management, which is basically cybersecurity kind of work with authentication for technology applications and onboarding,” she said. “I was literally doing the mixture of both business and engineering blending the best of both worlds and doing a lot of product development.”

Antunez’s strong internship performance helped her secure a full-time infrastructure apprentice position for Deloitte’s technology global group.

As for the future, “I'm very business-oriented, so eventually I’d like to start my own business,” said Antunez. “My 20s is the time to risk it all and might as well risk it now and see what I can do for myself.”

“My parents did something honestly right, and their hard work paid off. It all was worth it, " said Antunez. 

Lightning Round Q&A with Erika

What is your favorite engineering class you've taken?

I want to say Electronic Design Lab. It was a semester-long class where we built a robot and it was so satisfying to see the end product where you're just like - it works! I built the whole motor system and built it to turn.

What fascinates you about electrical engineering? 

There's something so satisfying about putting three lines of code and seeing a light turn on.

What is your favorite general education class? 

Hip hop through the dance department. I can do the wave now! 

"At the end of the day, you have to be mindful and humble. I have the grit to keep going.”

Source

[spacedikut]

starstruck ; spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid (criminal minds) x f!reader

summary:  “Can I request some age gap Spencer x reader. Maybe he’s nervous about approaching her for a relationship bc she’s younger, but he’s so goofy for her it’s he’s in love obvious. Pretty pls 🥺💕” 5222 words

a/n: i didn’t specify ages cause i wasn’t sure what people would be comfortable with so i just mentioned an age gap and leave the rest up to you!! i would happily date someone twice my age but i also have daddy issues so :)

masterlist

The day has finally arrived.

Mollie can call you a nerd all she wants, but you know the second she lays eyes on Derek Morgan or Emily Prentiss she’ll change her tune.

This event has been in the university’s calendar since the beginning of the semester. At least two members of the FBI Behavioural Analysis Unit were promised to give a talk about their department, even taking you through a solved case like an interactive documentary, to encourage students to consider joining the academy post-graduation. There was whispers they’d even stick around after to answer some questions.

Your other friend, Jen, the one that understands your excitement, wrote your names down for tickets immediately. You’ve had a countdown on your phone ever since.

“They’ve announced a last-minute guest,” She beams, just as giddy as you. You’re wasting time at the coffee house near the auditorium, waiting for Mollie to arrive.

“Oh, really? Who?”

“Doctor Spencer Reid.”

You almost drop your cookie in shock and stare at her, pupils blown.

“You’re a big fan?” She smirks.

As nonchalantly as you can, you lean back in your chair, “I’m a fan of his work, yes.”

“Oh, his work?”

“Don’t start.”

“I bet you love his work.”

“He’s well-versed and his papers are super interesting-“

“His papers are super interesting-“

“You are a child.”

Just then, Mollie appears, checking her watch. You wish you could kiss her in thanks for saving you from the teasing that would likely never end. “We’re gonna be late for your morbid seminar if you two don’t stop bickering.”

Jen downs the rest of her drink, you shove the last of the cookie in your mouth. Mollie watches your excitement in amusement – your heart starts pumping, whole body buzzing, the same nervousness you felt when you were a preteen right before your first ever One Direction concert. It’s the kind of nervousness that makes your palms sweaty.

Is it evolution or devolution to go from sweating over One Direction to sweating over FBI profilers?

+++

The seminar goes on for an hour, including the questions people ask throughout. It’s everything you could’ve asked for, entertaining and so, so informative and although you weren’t considering joining the FBI before, suddenly it’s all you can think about. Guest speakers have that affect, don’t they? They make you wonder if you should drastically change everything you’ve been planning.

Even Mollie, who you had to threaten to tag along, ended up enjoying herself. “Maybe I learnt a thing or two,” She’d said, rolling her eyes playfully.

You and your friends are some of the last to leave. There’s quite the bustling outside, which you assume is just post-seminar chatter, but you and Jen falter in your steps when you see the exact profilers that had been onstage several minutes ago in front of you, happily interacting and talking to fellow students.

“Oh, man,” Jen whispers, her and Mollie making eye contact across you. “I have to see if I can talk to Emily.”

Mollie encourages her with a frantic, “Go! Go!” while you’re rooted in place. Mollie jabs you with a pointed nail, “You in there, Y/N? I’m sure you have loads of questions for them-“

You stutter and shake your head, “N-no. I’m good. You can try and hit on Derek, if you want.”

You give a half-attempt at a smile, barely lifting the corners of your lips. Mollie recognises that look. She wants to stay with you, check you’re not too overwhelmed, but you shoo her away and send her towards Derek. You breathe a sigh of relief – you’ve been friends with her long enough that she knows when you need space.

There’s something about seeing people you admire so abruptly that totally throws you for a loop. All you had prepared for was seeing them from afar and subsequently talking about it forever, but nothing beyond that. In some circumstances, it’d be a pleasant surprise, but for someone that struggles around strangers and especially around people as admirable as profilers, you are not mentally prepared for this and have therefore shut down.

But then you see him.

He’s shuffling in place in the corner of the room, close to a large potted plant like it’s his only friend. He’s nibbling his lip as his eyes flutter around, never staying somewhere for longer than a second, looking increasingly uncomfortable.

Why is no one talking to him? He’s Spencer Reid.

There’s a couple of people surrounding Emily, fully entranced by whatever story she’s relaying, another few people around Derek, chortling at a joke he just made. Spencer glances between them and their audiences, and you can’t help but wonder why he isn’t right next to them, chatting away, too.

Does he not want to talk to anyone?

You should talk to him.

No. He probably wants to be alone.

Or what if he doesn’t and no one else is talking to him which means you can have a one-on-one conversation? What about that?

Are you insane?

…

You have to talk to him.

Before you can change your mind, you’re approaching him with a tight grip on the handle of your bag, pushing it higher up your shoulder. He spots you and makes eye contact just as you stop in front of him, and you notice he momentarily tightens his grip on his satchel.

Was this a bad idea?

“Hi,” You breathe, “I’m Y/N. A big fan.”

His eyes widen a fraction, which you don’t understand because why else would you be here, but he smiles nonetheless, “Hi, I’m, uh, Spencer Reid.”

“I know.”

“Yes, you know. That makes sense, because you were in the seminar. I saw you.”

Now you’re shocked. For as long as you can remember you never sit in the centre of a room, where most attention seems to go, so how did he-

“I-I always scan the room I’m in its.. it’s not a creepy thing, I swear. I’m not creepy.”

A laugh escapes you at that, making him visibly relax. “I don’t think you’re creepy. There was just.. a lot of people in there, so I’m surprised you remember my face.” You shrug.

I couldn’t forget such a beautiful face.

You don’t know what happens, but Spencer suddenly tenses up. His back straightens and he looks alarm, stiff.

Did he just think that? What.. why did he think that?

You wonder if you’ve said something wrong, so you try to change the topic.

“I-I have a question, if you don’t mind answering.”

Spencer nods with an of course, and when the question rolls off your tongue, his mind is still reeling from subconsciously calling you beautiful in his head. It’s not untrue, but it feels.. inappropriate. He doesn’t know why. But you are beautiful.

As he scans your face, now much closer than in the auditorium, he realises yeah, you are incredibly beautiful.

You wave a hand in front of his face, “Doctor Reid?”

“Sorry, yes, sorry. What are you studying?”

There’s a light in your eyes that Spencer recognises when you say, “Psychology.”

“Thought so.”

“You probably talk to a lot of psychology students. I-um. I almost went to Caltech,” Spencer raises an eyebrow, "After I read your dissertation, it really inspired me to look into it – your dissertation is incredible, by the way.”

Spencer smiles bashfully, a futile attempt to not allow the grin to overtake his face, and thanks you, “I appreciate it. Actually, I was sixteen when I wrote it.”

“Are you kidding me?!” Your eyes widen, “You’re insane! You’re amazing!”

The praise bursts from you, and his blushing face makes you oddly proud. On the other hand, Spencer feels like you’ve set him alight, his blood pumping loudly in his ears, as he’s unable to tear his eyes away from your smile.

He desperately needs to change the topic.

“To answer your question…”

Derek notices you two interacting across the room. Mollie sees him looking and hums, “Oh, that’s Y/N, my best friend. She really likes Spencer.”

Derek raises an eyebrow, “Looks like he really likes her.”

“Don’t tell her that. She’ll collapse.”

They both watch you for a second, Spencer flailing his arms as he explains, you eagerly adding to his rambling, asking a question here and exclaiming some kind of encouragement there. It’s sweet, Derek thinks.

“Hey..” Mollie begins, a scheming look in her eye, “We’re planning to hang out in the campus bar later. It’s open to all and the drinks are cheap. If you and Emily happen to find yourselves looking for something to do and you drag Spencer along.. I’m sure Y/N would like it.”

“I like the way you think,” Derek says, “I’ll see what I can do.”

+++

“She’s getting hit on. Again.” You giggle, gesturing for Jen to turn around and witness Mollie get your drinks paid for by a random guy.

She’s always been a people person – it’s saved you hundreds on nights out.

All Jen does is glance over her shoulder, scoff, then turn her sceptical eyes to you.

“I saw you and Spencer Reid.” She says, twinkling eyes. She’s trying not to look smug.

“I almost proposed to him.” You joke, taking your drink from Mollie with a mumbled thanks.

“Oh, I bet you did,” She laughs, “You two looked sooo good together.”

“Alright,” You slide a shot to each girl, “I know you’re making fun of me, but I’m taking that compliment and cherishing it. Spencer Reid is cute, what of it?!”

You clink the shot glasses with your friends and down them, all wincing at the taste and giggling at Jen when she takes a gulp of her cocktail to wash away the taste of straight vodka.

“How did talking to Derek and Emily go?”

And then Jen starts chattering away.

You miss the bar door opening behind you, But Mollie notices. She’s been watching the door since they got here, conveniently choosing the table with the best view, just in case some profilers decided to stop by.

Derek catches Mollie’s eye and winks.

“Well I never,” Mollie fakes shock, “Look who just walked through the doors.”

You turn and choke on your drink. Emily and Derek look relax, like they’re home, but Spencer?

He looks just like he did earlier: like there’s a million places he’d rather be.

He’s lost the blazer he was wearing earlier, leaving him in a fitted purple shirt with a matching tie. With the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, you can see his firm hands and the silver watch that rests on his wrist – is it possible for a watch to be sexy? Or maybe it’s just cause he’s sexy?

That shot must be getting to you.

“What the hell are they doing here?” You hiss, a sharp whisper piercing the air as you turn and (terribly) try to hide your face.

But Spencer’s seen you. He spotted you the moment they came in – he recognised your clothes and your hair – and the second he did he turned right back around to exit the bar. Derek’s arm stopped him at his chest, like he does to unsubs, forcefully turning him around and laughing when Spencer tensed up.

“What, Reid? Scared of a pretty girl?” Derek teases, much like he’d been doing since he spoke to you earlier.

“I am scared of college girls, yes. Last time I was in a college bar I was twelve and downed shots of apple juice.”

“What?!” Both Emily and Derek stop short, looks of disbelief at the revelation. “You’ve never mentioned that.”

“It’s embarrassing.”

“We,” Derek places his hands on Spencer’s shoulders, directing him to your table, “Are just gonna have a few drinks and talk to a few people, and then you’re gonna explain that apple juice story in explicit detail- hey ladies!”

Jen and Mollie look overjoyed at the new company, while you stare rigidly with distinctive what the fuck eyes.

“Would you mind if we joined you?” Emily asks, with a sparkling grin that no one could say no to.

“Of course not,” Jen grins, like it’s the most obvious answer.

The empty seat next to you is taken by Spencer (Derek discreetly shoves him) but right before he’s firmly placed on the stool, Emily calls out, “Spence, why don’t you get us some drinks? You still owe us after you lost that game of gin..”

“I didn’t lose.” Spencer huffs indignantly, “You cheated.”

Despite his grunts, he stands to make his way to the bar, but not before-

“Y/N!” Mollie beams, “It’s your turn to get the round, if you’d be so kind.”

You know that look on her face. You hate her, you realise, but you also love her because being alone with Spencer sends a thrill through you.

Alone with Spencer. What the hell are you supposed to say to him?

You follow him to the bar. He leans against it with an awkward smile.

“Hey, Y/N.”

“Hey.”

“It’s uh.. it’s been a long time since we’ve seen eachother.” It’s a half attempt at a joke, followed by instant regret. But then you giggle and everything feels right in the world, even Spencer’s sucky joke.

“It has been a while, Doctor Reid.” You say. The bartender approaches, takes your orders, then you turn to Spencer, “What brings you to a college bar, of all places?”

“Well,” Spencer glances over your shoulder to your table. He makes eye contact with every single person there, all watching you two interact, and they all sharply turn and try to play it off like they’ve been talking casually. Spencer’s brows furrow a little. “Derek said the drinks are cheap and our hotel is only a couple blocks away. I don’t know, maybe Derek likes college girls.”

You laugh again, and Spencer has to take a second to realise you’re not laughing at him but at what he said about Derek. “Yeah, Derek seems like a real ladies man.”

“Oh, you don’t know the half of it.” Spencer grins, “We once timed him to see how long it would take to get a girls number and he did it in five minutes. And he said he was having a bad day.”

The drinks are placed in front of you. Neither of you notice.

You unconsciously lean closer, saying, “Have you timed it to see how long it takes for a girl to approach him? That’s gotta be, like, maybe ten minutes?”

“Eight minutes and twenty-three seconds.”

“Well damn. Has he always been so…” A hand gestures in the air, looking for the word.

“Promiscuous?”

“I was gonna say free.”

“Free?” Spencer giggles, “That’s very nice of you.”

You shrug, “I don’t judge.” Spencer agrees, and it slips out, “What about you?”

You wish you could shove the words back in your mouth. Even more so when his expression changes. You can’t entirely make out what it is, but even in the dimly lit bar you can see the flush of heat that spreads through his cheeks to his ears.

“Are you asking me if I’m free with the ladies?” He murmurs, suppressing a grin.

You give an awkward laugh, wondering if you’ve overstepped a boundary, “Yeah. But that’s kinda weird to ask, so-“

“I’m so popular with the ladies it puts Derek to shame.”

You can’t hide your surprise. “What? Really?”

Spencer caves. “No. Is it that hard to believe I’m a ladies man?”

“Compared to Derek? Yes.”

Spencer scoffs.

+++

“As adorable as they are, it’s been thirty minutes.” Emily sighs. “I want my drink.”

“They’re bonding,” Jen sends a wistful look, “I’m so proud.”

“I’m guessing Y/N isn’t the most social either?” Derek asks, proudly watching you interact.

“She’s the best, just a little shy sometimes.” She smiles at you, even though you can’t see, “She’s an idiot, but our idiot, you know?”

Both Emily and Derek laugh airily, nodding with a, “Yeah, we know.”

At once, three phones vibrate throughout the bar – Emily, Derek and Spencer. They’re instantly filled with disappointment; Derek can’t watch Spencer attempt to flirt with a girl he’s obviously interested in, Emily still hasn’t got a drink, and Spencer has to leave you and he can’t think of anything worse.

He’s clearly hesitant when he looks at his phone. How does he say goodbye? Does he ask for your number? Would that be weird? That would be weird.

“Uhh…”

You channel every ounce of liquid courage you have in your body and offer, “Would it be weird if I gave you my number? Just.. for anything. Anything at all.”

Spencer nods, a gentle look in his eyes and a smile on his face, “Yeah, I’d like that.”

You mumble an alright, accepting Spencer’s phone and creating a new contact for yourself.

Please text me. You think. Please text me.

+++

He doesn’t text.

It’s been a week. A week. You know how cases are, some take longer than others and some are solved in literal hours, but it’s been a week, Spencer goddamn Reid, so why haven’t you texted me.

That’s when the doubt creeps in. Your friends keep telling you he’ll text, that he’s just busy (“He’s an FBI agent, Y/N. If you start dating you’re gonna have to get used to lapses in contact.” To which you’re too distracted choking at the mention of you two dating), but you can’t help but wonder if he took your number simply so he could leave quicker. He had a case to get to, after all. He had people to save.

Now you feel guilty. You forced your number on him, didn’t you? Oh God, he hates you. He hates you and you forced your number on him and he hasn’t texted you because he’s filing a restraining order against you because he hates you.

Mollie tells you you need a nap.

+++

Spencer spends the time on the jet back from the case staring at your number. He has it memorised, of course, and has had it memorised from the first time he read it, of course, but he can’t bring himself to do anything with it.

All he’s done is change your contact picture from the standard first letter of your name to a cute picture of a frog Garcia sent him. It reminds him of you.

Derek lowers his headphones, “You texted her yet, Pretty Boy?”

“Huh? Uh, no. I don’t think I will.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know,” Spencer shrugs, locking his phone and placing it face down. “I don’t think anything would come from it.”

“Kid,” Derek leans forward, eyebrows furrowed, “You two talked for well over thirty minutes in the middle of a college bar about God knows what. Maybe I’m easy to impress, but that seemed pretty special to me.”

“How is talking in a college bar worth anything?”

“Because you’re Reid, who, most of the time, has to be physically dragged into a bar. You hate talking to strangers about anything other than work. Y/N? A stranger. What did you two talk about?”

“We talked about you a little.”

“Uhuh. About how good I am at my job?”

“God, no,” Spencer scrunches his nose, “We talked about your charm with the ladies.”

Derek falls back in his chair and scoffs, “I’m flattered, but that doesn’t sound like work-talk to me. So you’re comfortable with her. I saw you laughing, so she makes you laugh, too. Sounds pretty great to me.”

Spencer stares. Derek’s right, but..

“So what is it, Reid?”

Spencer licks his lips. “Do you think she’s too young for me?”

Derek rarely looks taken aback, but he does now, “Too young?”

“She’s in college. I’m-I’m-“

“A legal adult. As is she.”

Spencer slumps. “A 2014 Current Population Survey found the average difference for a heterosexual couple is two-point-three years, with the man older than the woman. Even if you double that, that’s still less than me and Y/N-“

“Four years isn’t a lot, Spence,”

“You just.. you don’t think it’s weird?”

“No. Do you?”

“No. Yes. I don’t know.”

Derek’s conviction gives Spencer some reassurance, but he can’t help himself when he thinks that.. maybe.. you’ll find him boring. Most people seem to, with all his statistics and figures and facts, but with the added element of you living it up at college.. how could he compete?

“I think you’re worrying over nothing, Reid. You haven’t even texted her, and you’re already worrying about stuff like age gaps?” Derek crosses his hands and looks at Spencer with determination, “She gave you her number. She initiated it. She knows who you are, so she knows how old you are and it doesn’t seem to make her uncomfortable. So, why should it make you?”

Spencer just grunts.

“Are you worried people will say things?”

“I guess.”

“People always say things. You know that better than anyone. So screw ‘em.”

Spencer feels a smile creep onto his face.

And Derek relaxes. He’s planted the seeds, that Spencer is fretting over nothing, now all he’s got to do is wait for Spencer to let it sink in and allow the flowers to bloom and, next thing you know, Spencer’s gonna have himself the perfect girlfriend.

And Derek will take too much credit for it.

+++

“Heeeeeeeeey my precious Doctor…”

Garcia looks like her hand was caught in the cookie jar.

Spencer’s back straightens. “What did you do?”

She looks embarrassed, fiddling with the fluffy pen in her hand. She smiles awkwardly. “Derek may have told me about a pretty little college student that captured your heart, and then he told me you also haven’t texted her yet, so I did a little digging and…”

“You cyber-stalked Y/N?” Emily asks, casually. JJ seems unphased at the discussion. Does everyone in the office know about you?

“I did. I’m guilty. I’m sorry. I couldn’t resist.” She’s speaking a mile a minute.

Emily spares Spencer a glance, “Did you find anything?”

“Well…”

Concern fills Spencer. “Did something happen?”

“I just found some stuff she’d probably only tell a close friend and I feel really bad about it.” Her shoulders are by her ears as she tries to fold in on herself out of guilt, “But other than that she’s a genuinely sweet girl who volunteers at pet shelters and the college library in her free time and we have really similar music tastes so I think we’d make great friends.”

They all look to Spencer, waiting for his reaction. What? Is he supposed to be surprised that you’re the epitome of perfect? He’s not. He studied you the entire time you spoke.

“She’s also written several incredible papers on child development that I think are revolutionary and I totally emailed them to you because I think you should read them. She’s also a genius.”

Spencer’s hand twitches. He ignores the sudden need to check his email.

It’s silent as they just stare at him. He doesn’t say anything and tries not to react, but he does. They notice how his eyes flicker to his phone, how his leg fidgets, the longing in his eyes.

Emily brushes her hair back calmly and asks, “Hey, Pen, when does Y/N work at the college library?”

Penelope doesn’t catch on at first, casually replying, “Oh, basically every day from five pm onwards. They’re a twenty-four hour library and she combines working and studying.” When she sees Emily pointedly look at Spencer, she goes ohhh.

“Good to know,” Emily nods, “Good to know.”

+++

Spencer finds himself at the college library that night.

He wants to say it was an accident, or that he just happens to know there’s a special edition of a specific book here, but he’d be lying. He read your papers between reports, and found himself having a deep appreciation for the way you write – he wants to ready everything you’ve ever written. Every essay, every note, every formal and informal piece of work you’ve ever done.

He’s already fallen in love with the way you write. He doesn’t think he’s far from falling in love with you.

He wanders around the lower floor of the library. It’s impressive, he must admit, and he’s disappointed in himself for not visiting earlier. There’s students everywhere, but he notices some other people mixed in too – professors, businesspeople, as well as parents with their children.

He feels a little less weird for creeping around now.

Not that’s he’s creeping. He’s just.. there. To see a certain someone under the guise of looking for a book.

He moseys for a while, from the fiction section to the non-fiction to comics to autobiographies. You’re nowhere to be found – not between the rows of books, not working on any of the desks, not at the centre reception desk.

Until you’re suddenly behind him.

“Spencer?”

He jumps, looking up from the book he’s reading. Your voice is as calming and smooth as always.

“Y/N. Hi.”

“Hi,” Your brows are furrowed, but you’re not disappointed by the unexpected visitor. “What are you doing here?”

He lifts the book he’s holding, an Arthur Conan Doyle, giving a light lipped smile. “I’m just looking. I didn’t realise the college library was so plentiful – did you know the oldest library in the world dates from the seventh century BC?”

“I do, actually.” You point to a poster behind him, which displays that exact fact, “I thought dotting facts around the library would be interesting for the kids. They seem to like them.”

“Learning in young children is socially mediated, so good quality learning environments outside of their schools is crucial for children’s development. So, in a way, you’re enriching their lives beyond understanding.”

You’re flattered at his somewhat far-fetched attempt at complimenting you. It makes your heart flutter.

Why didn’t you contact me, you dimwit?

You open your mouth to ask another question, ask if there’s something he needs help finding, when he beats you to it.

With a firm grip, he slams the book he’s reading shut and says, “I’m lying.”

“Oh?”

“I didn’t come here to.. look around. I came here to see you.”

“Oh.”

Spencer doesn’t know what to make of that. You haven’t awkwardly looked away, or stepped back to increase the distance between you. That means something good, right?

“You didn’t text me, so I assumed you weren’t interested.” Your brows twitch, and you back-pedal, “Unless you purposely didn’t text me because you actually weren’t interested and you might be here to see me but for something book-related rather than me-related and I’ve totally humiliated myself.”

“No, no. You’re right. You’re right.” He fiddles with the book in shame, “I should’ve texted you. I just didn’t know what to say and.. Well, it’s stupid.”

Your head jerks a little to the side, something he’s noticed you do a lot, looking patient and too pretty for him to handle. “I’m sure it’s not stupid.”

Spencer thinks back to his conversation with Derek, specifically the reminder that you gave him your number which means you initiated this so yes, you are interested in him.

It’s just.. when he looks at you, he struggles to believe it a little. You’re breath-taking.  

“I’m worried I’ll bore you.” He starts light, easing you into what’s been troubling him. He’s emboldened by the fact you’re clearly frustrated he didn’t text you.

You give him a look of horror, “The first time we met I told you I loved your dissertation on geographic regression. I definitely do not think you’re anything anywhere near boring.”

“Okay,” He nods, “What about our ages?”

You’re confused. “What about it?”

Spencer mirrors your expression. “It doesn’t.. bother you?”

“Does it.. bother you?”

Usually, answering a question with a question is a sign of deflection, a sign of hiding something. However he doesn’t know why, but Spencer trusts you with his life. Maybe not his life. Maybe his heart.

“Does that silence mean yes?”

He shakes his head, “No. It doesn’t bother me. I just worry that, you know, college years are the so-called best years of your life and I don’t want you to regret being with me, someone older than you, and resent me for it, or something-“

“I think you’re getting way in your head, Spence.” You laugh a little, “We haven’t gone on a single date and you’ve convinced yourself of so much already. For the record, no, your age doesn’t bother me in the slightest. It never has and I doubt it ever will. I think you’re the most fascinating and interesting person on this planet, and if anyone is getting bored with anyone I’m pretty confident it’ll be you getting sick of me. And,” You take a breath, “I think I’m old enough to know what I want, who I want, and what I want is you. If you want me, too.”

Spencer shoves the book back into the bookshelf with a satisfying sound, then turns and quickly places a kiss onto your cheek. It’s completely unexpected and, quite frankly, not something you’d expect from Doctor Reid, but you blush and there’s a definite red colour to Spencer’s cheeks, too.

“I will never, ever, get sick of you.” He says, voice small but firm. “But I don’t want you to regret being with me. Promise me you won’t.”

You give him a look that tells him you think he’s ridiculous. “I promise that I won’t regret being with you. I’d like us to last as long as possible, if I can be picky.”

“I’d like that, too.” He murmurs. The thought of you wanting him for as long as possible almost sends him into a frenzy. He wants to kiss you all over.

You stand close and talk quietly for a while, a little more discussion on a possible date that weekend and a constant stream of compliments from you to Spencer and vice versa, before you realise the time.

“I should probably go. I have a paper to finish.” You smile sadly, a tiny pout forming.

“I understand. Do you think I could read it? When you’re done?”

Your eyebrows shoot up, “Do you know how terrifying the idea of the Spencer Reid reading my work is? But yes, anything for you.”

Anything for you. Are you trying to kill him?

You turn to leave, refusing to admit how sad leaving Spencer makes you feel, when you stop, “One more thing.”

Spencer hums. He’s not fully paying attention, praying to whatever Gods exist that killers take a break on the weekend so he can take you out on the sweetest date.

“If age is a sore area for you,” There’s mirth in your eyes and Spencer prepares himself, “Does that mean the nickname old man is off the table?”

His lips purse and move towards his nose as he narrows his eyes, giving you a look of faux annoyance, “I am not an old man.”

“Sounds like you’re sensitive, old man.”

As you walk away, you jokingly blow him a kiss to add insult to injury. His pretend glare lasts until your back is turned and he feels his gaze softening to something akin to love.

Spencer thins if the rest of his life is this, you teasing him with that twinkle in your eye and smile on your face, then life is truly the most beautiful thing.

[mandoalorian]

do you have any thoughts about maxwell dating when he was younger like do you think he dated in his teen/early 20s, did he ever find someone he really liked 🥺 I feel like young maxwell would have been nervous about girls

Be Someone [College!Maxwell Lorenzano x Reader]

Warnings: descriptions of bullying, poverty

Rating: 13+

He was different to the other guys in your class. During every seminar and lecture, Maxwell Lorenzano would sit at the very front, nibbling anxiously on his pen as he profusely took down notes. He paid attention to every single detail. Instead of asking questions during class, he'd always stay behind at the end of the lesson to talk to the professor alone. He was shy and a little fussy, but you admired the determination in him.

Unlike the other guys who attended your college, Maxwell Lorenzano hadn't had his parents pay him in, that much was certain. The other guys wore designer three piece suits worth thousands, but you recognised Maxwell Lorenzano's shirt and tie from clothing section in the supermarket where you worked. You admired his simple nature and his hard work ethic.

You weren't even sure if poor Maxwell had friends. You rarely seen him out of class, and when you did, he was alone, nervously fumbling with his fingers or biting at his nails. You didn't speak to him much— nobody did— but he did intrigue you. You'd caught him staring at you for the past few weeks now. It didn't bother you, in fact, his attention felt warm and you were open to it (since you hadn't been getting attention from anyone else). Your friends and your boyfriend, however, weren't pleased at all. Your friends would walk by him, teasing him and tormenting him, and once your boyfriend caught on about his little crush on you, he was furious.

"Why are you even here? How are you even paying for this degree? You come from nothing. I know who your dad is. We all do. You're nothing." Your boyfriend spat, and your heart sank. Maxwell swallowed and slumped his shoulders, ducking his head down to avoid any more confrontation. As he went to walk away, your boyfriend slammed him against the brick wall. "Hey! I was talking to you!"

"Get off him!" you cried, ripping your boyfriend away from Maxwell and, with all your strength, throwing him to one side.

Maxwell Lorenzano couldn't catch his breath. His eyes were wide and he was shaking. And before you could apologise on behalf of your boyfriend's actions, he'd ran away. He was scared. He was afraid. He felt powerless. And he wanted that to change.

You never understood Maxwell's determination, or where it came from. The truth is, he wanted to be someone. Just for once, he wanted to feel special and important. He wanted to escape this God-awful life and he wanted to build a brand new Empire. He was sick of the comparisons to his father, sick of getting told he'd get nowhere in life because of where he came from. He screamed when he got home that night. He cried. He had never felt so fed up with life. He could never get his own way. He liked you so much but what use was it if he just embarrassed himself in front of you? What use was it if he couldn't even pluck up the courage to talk to you?

You knew Maxwell was studious, which is why you woke up early the next morning and checked in at the college library in search for the brown eyed boy. You were right, he was there. You slumped down next to him and offered him a polite smile. Max found his heart rate pick up speed just by your mere presence. What were you doing here?

"Hello," you looked over at him and reached your arm out. You brushed your hands over his and Maxwell gulped. "I'm sorry about yesterday. My boyfriend and my friends and... it isn't right. I've seen it happen and I should've done something sooner. Should've stuck up for you."

"N-no," Maxwell stammered nervously. "It's okay. I could never expect that of you. I- we- we don't even know each other."

"That's true," you hummed, opening up your business and economics notebook and clicking down on your pen. "But the truth is, I admire you. I always see you working so hard and. Guys like my boyfriend, I don't think they'll get far in life. Money can't buy success, no matter how much they believe it can. But working hard... and all the extra hours you put in doing homework and extra credit work. And you have the right attitude. I like you a lot, Max."

Maxwell shuddered at the nickname. No one had ever bothered to give him a sweet, abbreviated nickname like that before. It was always slurs and curses and disgusting words that made him feel nauseatesd. But he liked it. Max. He could get used to being called that.

"I honestly didn't even think you knew I existed." Maxwell chewed on his lower lip.

"Are you kidding? Everyone knows who you are. You get the best grades in the damn college. I just know you're going to go far in life. Tell me, what are your dreams? What are your ambitions?"

Maxwell pondered for your question for a moment. Truthfully he didn't know what sort of career he wanted to go into. Business made sense, since that was the nature of his degree, but the truth is, he always wanted more. "I guess I want to help people who are less fortunate, like myself. Somehow figure out a plan where people can earn money through making investments and they can finally feel like someone. Someone important. And powerful."

"It's a great idea in theory, Max. But I'm not sure how well something like that would work out in practice." you admitted.

"I guess I'm still figuring that part out." Maxwell shrugged, looking back down at his financial equations.

"Well," you began, dipping your hand in the top of his back. He stiffened under your gentle touch and squeezed his eyes shut. "I have no doubt you're gonna go far in life. Remember me when you're rich and famous."

Maxwell tried to repress a smile. No one had ever believed in him the way you did— and hell, you'd only just met.

"Would- would you like to maybe- come for a coffee- with me- sometime?" Maxwell asked, looking up at you with a hopeful glint in his eyes.

You smiled warmly. "I'd like that a lot Max. See you around."

"Bye." Maxwell flushed, watching as you strutted away.

You were beautiful, and somehow or another, he swore to make you his.

Permanent taglist: @supernaturalgirl @phoenixhalliwell @ah-callie @luvzoria @stardust-galaxies @wickedfrsgrl @goth-topic @nerdypinupcrystal @wonderfulfluffer @kiwi-the-first @pedroepascal @castiel-barnes @honeymandos @rocketqueen @ladycumberbatchofcamelot @dybalalover10 @girl-obsessed-with-things @elena-myth @moth-guillotine @pedro-pascal-love @hayley-the-comet @pinkninja190 @maxiarapamaya @autumnleaves1991-blog @artsymaddie @harrys-stan @kennedywxlsh @cripplingmoon @cheekygeek05 @mrschiltoncat

[halloweenhoneylover]

the closing shift

summary: coffeeshop au babey!! spencer and reader are nerds in love who also work at the campus cafe together (spencer reid x fem!reader)

word count: 2.7k

author’s note: this one’s for u, anon!!! sorry if this is lame, i normally don’t like coffeeshop au’s but here we are. also a warning: there is a lot of doctor who junk in here and also it’s incredibly self-indulgent but i don’t care :)

“So what you’re saying is you don’t like the power of love and human goodness?”

Spluttering frustratedly, Spencer frowned at you, “Of course, that’s not what I’m saying. I just think that the special effects were cheesy and the plot was sometimes a little silly!”

You narrowed your eyes at him for a moment before relenting with a sigh, focusing back on the counter you were wiping down. “Okay, fine. I’ll admit that the Slitheen really did not look good, and that maybe ‘Love and Monsters’ was one of the stupidest episodes of television I’ve ever watched, but you have to admit that Ten’s monologue in ‘The Satan Pit’ was one of the best pieces of writing in the whole show. ‘If I believe in one thing, I believe in her?’ How were you not screaming at your TV when you watched that!”

Spencer lips curled into a small smile as you continued rambling and absent-mindedly cleaning the counter. You were not doing a very good job, but he wasn’t about to stop your spiel. It wasn’t often he was on the receiving end of a ramble, and as someone who was frequently told to shut up, he would never interrupt, especially when it was about his favorite show. Especially when it was the prettiest girl he’d ever seen. No, he’d sit quietly and listen, thank you very much.

“Okay,” she brought her full attention back to Spencer. “I’ll forgive you for your horrible offence. If you take back what you said.”

She looked so intently in his eyes, so sincerely his knees wobbled a little. The full force of her attention was like the sun. He felt warm inside and out, but he might be burned from the intensity of its direct glare. 

“Fine, season two of Doctor Who is not a complete abomination.”

The corner of her mouth quirked up in a satisfied smirk. “Well, thank you, Dr. Reid. I appreciate the kind words.”

He nodded, turning to the back room. He’d almost made it through the doorway before he muttered just loud enough for you to hear, “But season eight is better.”

A melodramatic gasp, and he felt a rag hit the back of his head, and he chuckled.

“You take that back, Spencer Reid!” 

Making his way further in, his fingers found the knot behind his back, quickly untying and shrugging off the apron. “(Y/N), I only speak the truth. I’m a man of science, and science says that season eight is simply superior.”

You laughed along with him, murmuring grievances against this idiot genius. You reached behind yourself, fingers fumbling with the knot. After a couple unsuccessful attempts, you huffed and asked, “Hey, Spencer, do you think you could help me with my apron? I tied the stupid thing too tightly.”

He gulped, mumbling a sure thing in a way he hoped was nonchalant, but knowing himself, was anything but. Walking up behind you, he felt himself involuntarily shudder at your proximity, and he said a silent prayer to a god he didn’t believe in to try to keep his cool. You felt his fingers brush against your lower back, and you tried, gosh, you tried so hard to not audibly gasp (you’re not sure you succeeded). The brief contact unfortunately flooded your mind with thoughts about his long fingers that you had often admired (discreetly), and you thought about what it’d be like for him to touch you and for him to mean it, and you nearly passed out. The silence was deafening, which was funny because it seemed like you two could never shut up around each other, and the one time you needed to fill the tense air with something, there was nothing.

Finally finished with the knot, Spencer softly tapped your back twice with his index. “All done.” It came out as a whisper. He couldn’t have managed more.

“Thanks!” You spoke at normal volume and tried to put you back into regular conversation, but breaking the eerie quiet, it sounded like you were shouting.

He shot you a tight-lipped smile. “Are you all good to close up?”

“Yeah, I can hold down the fort,” you said rather breathlessly, returning his smile.

Slinging his backpack over his shoulder, he pushed open the back door and waved. “See you Thursday!”

“See ya.”

As soon as the door shut, you heaved a sigh of relief and let the tension out of your shoulders, staring at the ground. You dug the heels of your palms into your eyes. Why did you freeze up like that? Why was it weird when he left? Why did you like him so much?

——— 

Thursday was Spencer’s favorite day of the week. The dining hall stocked chocolate donuts with rainbow sprinkles on Thursdays. He had his chemistry seminar with his favorite professor on Thursdays. Caltech’s chess club met on Thursdays. He worked his shift at The Campus Grind on Thursdays. 

(You worked the same shift at The Campus Grind on Thursdays.)

Did Spencer really need a job? No, his education was entirely paid for by the school because when you have a child prodigy on your hands, you should try to keep them. And he lived in on-campus housing and ate on campus, and he didn’t have a lot of other expenses. But his advisor told him that he might get something out of doing a job that didn’t require 100% of his brain power, might get to rest his mind for a couple hours every week. He might also make a friend.

What he had not anticipated when he started at one of the various campus cafes was meeting you. He showed up to his first shift and nearly choked when he saw arguably the most beautiful girl he had ever met in the backroom putting on an apron. Your eyes lit up when you saw him. “Hey, you must be Spencer! I saw our names together on the schedule a couple times, looks like we’re gonna be work buddies!”

By the time you turned back to speak to your guys’ new manager, he noticed his jaw was completely slack, and he hoped his mouth had not been hanging too long. He also blacked out too long to ask for your name, which he was internally hitting himself over. And he hazily drifted through the training, his mind barely focusing on the coffee. To say he was distracted by the girl next to him and the way she smelled like coconuts and cotton was a major understatement. Times like these were humbling for a twenty-year-old with two and a half PhDs.

He could barely recall anything that happened until they were cleaning out the espresso machine together silently, and he was struck with a sudden need. “Hey, I never caught your name…”

“Right! My name is (Y/N),” she answered, offering him a grin.

“It’s nice to meet you, (Y/N).”

Neither spoke after that, both working quietly next to each other. Spencer sighed internally, he wasn’t sure what he expected, but he hoped they wouldn’t spend the semester in silence. And like some higher power was listening to his wishes, you turned to him, “So, Spencer, what are you majoring in?”

Hesitant to scare you off, he tiptoed around the subject. “Right now, I’m studying chemistry.”

“Right now?”

He glanced over at you, and despite knowing you for the entirety of ten minutes, he couldn’t deny you or the inquisitive gleam in your eye even if he wanted to. And he didn’t want to. “I’m working on my PhD in chemistry. I already have two in mathematics and engineering. Oh, and I have two BA’s in psychology and sociology.” He couldn’t help but feel a little guilty at the dumbfounded look on your face, and he swallowed harshly. “Um, uh—what uh, what are you studying?”

You let out a brief laugh, and for a moment, he cringed, wondering if you were laughing at him. But just a look at you and the tenderness of your features, he knew he had nothing to worry about. Blowing a puff of air out, you grinned gently, “Well, your PhD’s are putting my bachelor’s to shame, so I’m not sure I want to say.”

“No, I’m sure whatever you’re studying is cool,” he reassured you.

Pleasantly surprised by the humility of your new genius coworker, you continued, “I appreciate it. I tend to err on the side of the humanities, not much of a STEM gal myself, and right now,” you both chuckled at your little joke, “I’m studying history and political science.” 

“So am I standing in the presence of a future lawyer, or maybe the next president of the United States?” 

“Good question, but I’m not sure. Would you vote for me?”

Squinting at you for a moment, he nodded slowly, “Yeah, I think I would. You’ve got a kind face.”

You raised your eyebrows at that, trying to suppress a blush. “A kind face?”

“Yeah,” he hummed, eyes flicking over your face. You felt shy under his gaze; it’s not everyday a hot genius boy stares you down and tells you you have a ‘kind face.’

Ducking your head, you fought a smile. “Alright, I’ll take it.”

And from then on, something clicked. You and Spencer talked for hours and hours during your shifts, joking and teasing (and grinning and blushing). He looked forward to working because that meant a chance to see you. (Except for Mondays, that was the one shift you didn’t have together, and it made Spencer want to scream. The dude he worked with, Andy, was nice enough, but the hours seemed to drag on when he didn’t have you to discuss weird sci-fi movies with.)

He was particularly looking forward to this Thursday because he knew you had a big presentation in your class about African revolution, and he wanted to hear all about it. In the brief moments of spare time at the cafe, he had helped you prepare and had listened to bits and pieces of it. This morning he’d sent you a quick good luck! text, to which you’d responded with thanks!!! and a stream of various heart emojis. He had learned early on that you were very fond of emojis, but it never stopped his heart from skipping a beat when you’d send him little hearts and smileys.

Entering the back room, he set his backpack on a hook and started to get ready for his shift. He gave a quick wave to the people from the last shift as they left, and he felt a little worry boiling in his gut because if they had left, that meant you were late, and you were never late. He wondered if something had happened in your presentation, and he was filled with dread. Solitarily manning the counter, he was ensnared in his thoughts; he couldn’t stand the idea of something going wrong and you being upset, so upset that you couldn’t come to work. He shifted uncomfortably, hand itching to grab his phone and send you a text to see if you were okay when he heard a door slam and a shriek from the backroom. “Spencer!”

Immediately, he ran to the back, expecting the worst, and he nearly fell over when you ran at him full-speed to launch into a hug. “Oof—” He recovered though, catching you, and he wrapped his arms around you so tightly and cradled the back of your head in his hand. His heart stuttered. He could get used to this.

You buried your face into his neck. “Oh, Spencer, you won’t believe it. My presentation went so well! My professor held me after class and told me I was one of his brightest students, and oh, I just don’t believe it!” He felt your face warm against him as you gushed.

“I believe it, I don’t doubt it for a second. You are so smart, (Y/N). I’m so proud of you. You deserve it.”

Breathing him in for just a moment longer, you finally released him, and both of you thought how everything feels a little emptier now that you weren’t holding each other. He couldn’t help but beam at you, though.

“Really, (Y/N), I’m so proud of you.”

“Hey, I can’t take all the credit! It’s all thanks to you being patient enough to hear me blabber on and practice, so thank you, Dr. Reid.”

He got incredibly flustered at the title and hesitated over his next words before settling on a soft anytime. And he meant it.

——— 

The rest of your shift that day was less eventful. You recounted some of the highlights of your presentation, to which Spencer listened with rapture. There was some discussion of who was at chess club today and if anyone there was a true match for Spencer (no one was). You played your favorite game called “Who Can Make the Most Disgusting Drink Out of Four Ingredients?” (You won with a mixture of coffee, coffee grounds, an excessive amount of salt, and raspberry syrup. (Ew, (Y/N) why is it grainy?)) And now nearing midnight, you sat at one end of the bar reading your textbook while Spencer cleaned up various mugs and napkins. He snagged the broom from the backroom and began sweeping. With a quick glance up at you focused entirely on your book, he smiled softly. Pieces of your hair had drifted out from behind your ears and framed your face, and the apples of your cheeks were flushed. To put it simply, you looked ethereal, and Spencer didn’t think it should be possible for someone to look so beautiful at the end of a long day, but here you were, always defying expectations. He thought you looked like someone from those Renaissance paintings you loved so dearly, but he knew that even if someone tried to commit your grace to canvas, it’d be to no avail. He was sure no one would be able to do you justice.

Looking down at the floor he was supposed to be sweeping, he let his thoughts wander farther. He thought about what it would be like to hold you everyday like he did today. He’d be the luckiest man on Earth, that’s what. For so long he thought about asking you out, but then he knew that someone like you would never be interested in someone like him. But then again, you were the impossible girl. You never did quite what he expected. And he never expected you to be into him. So maybe for once in his life, he’d go out on a limb and ask you if you wanted to go get dinner with him sometime. He’d take you to the Indian place on 12th that he knew you loved, and you’d sit in the oddly formal, always empty restaurant and laugh and giggle together because that’s what you always did together, and then maybe, he’d invite you back to his place, so you could watch Doctor Who, or maybe do other things (like hold hands), who knows? 

He found himself praying to that god he didn’t believe in once again to find the courage as he finished up sweeping, and after he put the broom away, he walked up to you with butterflies running rampant in his stomach, so he could barely muster a glance at you. But he was going to finally do it.

“(Y/N), I —”  

And that’s when he noticed that you had fallen asleep on your book. It had been a long day for you. He felt his heart grow tender and soft and if someone poked it, it very well might explode. His thoughts strayed to your conversation the other day and the quote you loved so much. I've seen fake gods and bad gods and demi-gods and would-be gods, and out of all that, out of that whole pantheon, if I believe in one thing, just one thing, I believe in her. He takes a step or two closer, and brushing a lock of hair behind your ear with the gentlest hand, he thinks, yeah. I believe in her.

[thadelightfulone]

Prologue

Story Summary:  Erik Stevens has a wonderful life - traveling around the world, empowering black people, and living life on his terms. There is just one piece that is missing but how will she complete his destiny?

Demi Bishop sat at her desk, gently tapping her fingers on a file. Picking it up, she opened it for the umpteenth time. She glanced over the two sheets inside and then closed it again. She put the file down and pushed it to her left.

She took a deep breath and tried to center herself. It’s been years since she felt this unnerved about meeting a new patient, but this was something new for her. After spending her entire career behind prison walls, Demi was on her own. The freedom of picking her own patients drew her to private practice.

Her first client would be one of the biggest she had ever encountered. She worked with many notorious people during her career, but he is well-known for being a positive influence in the black community. This could be the boost she needs to move from prison psychiatry to mainstream therapy.

--- 3 Days Earlier ---

Demi’s hand felt along the nightstand for her vibrating cell phone. Someone was about to get cussed out waking her up and the sun wasn’t even shining through her curtains yet? She blinked at the bright screen and saw it was her best friend, Xavion calling.

“MiMi, I have a huge favor to ask.” The voice rushed out over the phone line.

“What’s in it for me, Xay?” Demi sighed.

“My undying devotion.” He sang.

“I have that already. Give me something else.” She yawned, glaring at the red numbers on her digital clock that read 4:30am.

“My first child?”

“I don’t want kids.” She mumbled out as she rolled back over and put the phone on the pillow next to her. “One more try and then I’m hanging up.” Demi pulled her comforter over her head.

“Demi, come on.”

Demi’s soft snores could be heard on the line.

“Please. I really need this favor, so I can look good at work.”

She lifted her head off the pillow, “What do I have to do?”

“I have a client for your practice.”

Demi threw the comforter off of her and sat up in bed. She put the phone on speaker and wiped the sleep from her eyes.

“So, my boss had this really interesting case where the guy was given mandatory therapy before returning to work.”

“I’m listening.”

“He doesn’t want to do it, but he has to, ya know. So, we told him that we would find a therapist for him to complete his sessions with and sign off on his return. It’s simple, meet with him the minimal number of times allowed by the program and then clear him.”

Demi looked down at her phone in confusion. This could not be her friend asking her to do this.

“Xay, you know that’s not how therapy works. Hell, that’s not even how I work.” She rolled her eyes. “It’s all or nothing. It’s my license on the line if he repeats or reoffends.”

“Trust me. You do not have to worry about that with him. He’s good people.”

“Good people don’t end up in mandatory therapy programs, Xay.”

“MiMi!” He groaned.

“Absolutely not. I understand that your bosses have people on payroll to do shit like this for them and that’s great. But I will not be one of them.” She pinched the bridge of her nose, “and for you to even come to me with this bullshit this early in the morning. Thanks friend.”

“MiMi. I didn’t mean to - ”

“You want me to see this man as a client? Then you inform him about how I work. He can see it through to the end and at my recommendation or he can find someone else to buy off.”

“Demi, please -”

“No Xay. Talk to your client and if he is fine with my proposal, you can send me his file.” She hung up the phone.

---

Xavion sent her an electronic file that contained a picture of her new client, Erik Stevens. It contained the court case details and the anger management program paperwork she would sign upon completion. Demi had heard of him and didn’t understand how a man of his status ended up taking the entire blame for this situation.

Handling this case appropriately would provide the exposure she needed to help build her practice. All she had to do was get him to complete the program as outlined by the judge.

---

Erik Stevens looked up at the red brick building and then looked at the note on his phone. This was the place. Apparently, there was a couch with his name on it inside. He was supposed to walk in and speak candidly to some quack for 6 months. There was nothing wrong with him, but the courts didn’t see it that way. Nothing he couldn’t fix during this first visit though.

He entered the lobby and walked to the elevator bank. Erik locked his phone and placed it in the inside pocket of his jacket. He stood back and waited for the approaching elevator car.

Erik looked at his watch as he exited onto the 5th floor. ‘Early is on time, on time is late and late is unacceptable.’ He smiled to himself, “Time to let Dr. Bishop know how things will go.”

The floor had an open layout with a desk in the center and multiple closed doors surrounding it. He appreciated the mix of modern and classic furniture that made up the office suite shared by all the doctors.

He walked over to the receptionist, who gawked at his entrance. She straightened up in her seat as he approached. “I’m here for Dr. Bishop. I have a 3 oclock appointment.”

“Uh, yes sir, Mr. Stevens.” She smiled up at him, “Please have a seat.”

He returned the smile. “So, you do know who I am?” He looked down at her over the countertop that covered her seated position.

Erik surveyed her. Her pressed hair and pearly white smile to her chaste blouse down to her skirt that showcased glistening chocolate brown legs in stiletto heels. He lifted his gaze back to her face and when he met her stare, she immediately looked away.

“Of course, I’ve attended a few of your seminars before. You are the reason I have this job.” She looked at her computer and then back up at him, “You are quite early, but I’ll let her know you are here.”

“Thank you, sweetheart.” He stood up and pushed back the panels of his jacket revealing a gold lining. Then he leaned onto the counter and followed her line of sight until she met his again, “By the way, what’s your name?” He held his hand out to her.

“Sylvanna.” She giggled and slowly placed her hand in his.

“Sylvanna, what a beautiful name.” He rubbed the top of her hand with his thumb. “Are you doing anything tonight?”

She nodded at him and Erik immediately relaxed his hold on her hand. Sylvanna quickly corrected herself, “I’m sorry, Mr. Stevens,” She took a deep breath and exhaled, “No, I am not.”

“Good girl. Go out with me.”

“I’d love to.”

“Wonderful. I’ll need your number.” He tapped a notepad in front of her.

Sylvanna flipped to a fresh sheet, wrote it down and gave it to him. He slipped the piece of paper from her hand, folded the sheet and placed it in his pants pocket. He took her hand again and gave it a slight squeeze.

“You can let Dr. Bishop know I am here now.” He winked at Sylvanna, turned and walked away.

She shook her head, took another deep breath and reached for the intercom, “Yes, Mr. Stevens.”

---

For several minutes, Erik stood by the window observing the cityscape. This was his town and his home, Oakland. His work was for his people. He didn’t understand why he was here when he paid people to take care of things like this for him. Why have a law firm on retainer when they couldn’t even get him out of mandatory therapy?

Erik sighed, “Sometimes, you gotta do the messy work yourself.”

Sylvanna called his name. “Dr. Bishop will see you now, Mr. Stevens.”

He turned as he buttoned up his suit jacket to find her standing, “Thank you, Sylvanna.” He walked up to her, “So, where I am going?”

She pointed down the center hallway, “It’s the first door on your right.”

“Great. I will see you later tonight.” He winked at her.

He strode towards the office with a smile as he brushed down his jacket. Erik took a deep breath and knocked before he entered.

“Dr. Bishop?”

“Yes, Mr. Stevens. Please come in.”

Erik froze, one hand on the doorknob, at the feminine voice that greeted him. Dark brown eyes hidden behind slim black-rimmed glasses looked expectantly up at him. He closed the door behind him and stepped forward. Erik studied the woman sitting at the large wooden desk. This was gonna be easier than I thought.

She waved her hand to the chair in front of her desk. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Dr. Bishop. The pleasure is all mine.” He replied.

Erik walked over and sat down in the straight-backed chair.

“I have some housekeeping things to go over and then we can start.”

Erik watched her shuffle a few files and a legal pad in front of her. Right down to business. She impressed him.

He moved his chair forward and pulled a pen from his jacket. “Great, let me know where to sign.”

“Excuse me?” Dr. Bishop snapped at him.

Erik continued, “I am so glad you changed your mind. I need to get back out on the road and speak to all my people.”

He reached for one of the files on her desk. She pulled it out of his reach.

“I think you are mistaken, Mr. Stevens.” She gathered the files together and placed them on a file rack.

---

Does this man really assume that I am going to cheat the system for him? Who the fuck does he think he is?

Demi looked over at Erik as he relaxed into the chair. He unbuttoned his jacket and the lining flashed gold before the suit tails settled around him.

No, he didn’t.

He was wearing a gray pinstripe suit with gold cufflinks. She shook her head as he clasped his manicured hands together on his lap.

He really thinks highly of himself.

“Mr. Stevens, I am aware that you spoke with Mr. Davis about my terms.” When Erik nodded, she continued, “What makes you think I have changed my mind?”

“Well, you have the paperwork in front of you. And there is nothing that YOU can teach me about channeling anger and using it for better,” he moved his hands as he spoke, “I do this for a living.”

Demi smiled at Erik, “Ahhhh, no wonder you are dressed so... impressively.” She pointed at his suit, “This must be your ‘I talk in money’ suit. No wait, it’s your ‘Let’s talk business’ suit.”

---

Erik slowly bobbed his head at her. The more she spoke the more he wanted to hear everything she had to say. He was pleased to say the least. She definitely had a nice read on him.

“You must have thought that you could walk in here and negotiate the terms of your court-mandated therapy.”

“That’s correct.” He sat forward in his seat.

Demi tapped her chin, “So, that’s why you came in here peacocking? Beautiful coat, by the way.”

He watched as Demi stood up and walked around her desk. She stopped in front of it and him.

“Let me introduce myself then.” She leaned against the desk and crossed one of her legs in front of the other. “My name is Dr. Demi Bishop and I will be your counselor as you work through your anger management program.”

A sly smile crept across Erik’s face. “You sure about that?”

“Absolutely.” She reached beside her and grabbed one of the folders on the desk. “In fact, here is your first assignment.” She handed it to him, “Go ahead and read that before our next session.”

Demi walked around his seat and went to her office door. She opened it and then turned back towards Erik.  

---

She held the door as Erik stood up.

He took the opportunity to get a better view of her. Her loose curls were in a bun, some tendrils framing her cherubic face. She wore a fitted brown blazer over a black sheath dress. Sensible black heels finished the look. Hmmm, what are you hiding Ms. Bishop?

“It was nice to meet you, Mr. Stevens. I will see you Wednesday. Preferably at your appointed time.”

He brushed up against her as he passed by and heard her deep inhale once he crossed the door’s threshold.

Erik walked to the bank of elevators and hit the down button. While he waited, he looked inside the folder and found an article about healthy ways to deal with anger. This woman is something else. Erik closed the folder and twisted into a tube. He hid his hand in his pants pocket and balled up his fist.

The elevator doors opened and he stepped inside. Erik looked back at Demi standing in her doorway. He waved to her, “Yes, you will see me again, Miss Bishop.”

A/N: Trying something new. Taglist is open. 

[vislorrturlough]

Scaramouche!

"Of course, this assumption of responsibility does not mean that we are not conditioned genetically, culturally, and socially. It means that we know ourselves to be conditioned but not determined. It means recognizing that History is time filled with possibility and not inexorably determined-that the future is problematic and not already decided, fatalistically."

- Paulo Friere

For as long as Loki can remember, tapestries have lined the walls of Asgard's palace.

When Loki was a child, the Allmother sat by his bed one night and explained the significance of the tapestries that lined the walls of their home.

“The Norns weave the tapestry that assigns our roles,” she told him. “So that we may fulfill our fate and serve Midgard as we are meant to.”

The tapestries stretched across all the walls of the palace, covering vast miles of golden wall with breathtaking imagery depicting life and death and love and hate and everything in between. They pictured Loki too, who moved from boy to tragedy to a vicious and cruel man.

“So I have a role too? And Thor?” he asked. She smiled at him with fondness. The Thor on the tapestries seemed brave and strong - Loki could never imagine his brother, still a boy himself, to become that hulk of a man someday.

“Of course, Loki,” she said. “We all have roles. I am a mother, and a magician. Thor will be a great hero. Your father, a beloved and wise king. This is what is sewn into our destiny, to be enacted until Ragnarok and again after that. In a cycle, unending and unwavering.”

He yawned, obscuring the nervousness bubbling in his chest and curling the silken covers around his shoulders. He knew what the tapestries said Loki would do. He had hoped that maybe - “What’s my fate, mother?” he asked quietly.

Her smile, previously relaxed, became firm and serious. His heart was racing, thinking of that man, and of the awful cruelty that was depicted to come at his hands. “We all have a part to play, my dear. And every story has a villain for a reason.”

--

Despite common misconception, Loki Laufeyson never lived in the moment. In fact, Loki found the moment particularly difficult to pin down. Once you begin to think “Hey, I think this is the moment!” it wasn’t the moment anymore, and Loki already had four tabs open on his phone about the relativity of time and he didn’t need anymore.

Loki lived in the future, which was why he was that very moment getting his fair share of serotonin from the Schrödinger’s Night Out with Sigurd and Lorelei he was planning. 

“Sigurd definitely won’t come out if Lorelei isn’t,” he explained to Verity as he paced hurriedly around their absurdly fancy flat, which he paid for entirely and in return, Verity didn’t ask where he got all the money. “Which means I need Lorelei to agree first. One problem with that!”

“Lorelei hates you?” Verity asked, as she planted an orange tree in Stardew Valley.

“Lorelei hates me!” Loki agreed. “Which means I need to sweeten the pot.”

Verity glanced up at him suspiciously. “How are you going to do that?”

He grinned, and picked up a pen so he could start dramatically gesticulating. “Bisexual women! They’re always fascinated with me. And by the end of the evening, I’ll have established a system where I transport their attention from me to Lorelei and get her many dates. Like a Ford factory.”

She glared, turned back to her game. “You’re a walking hate crime.”

“Was that a lie, Verity?” he teased, collapsing on the couch and wrapping an arm around her shoulders. She tried just barely to shrug him off. “Was it a lie when I said bi women are fascinated with me? Was it?”

Verity narrowed her eyes at him, but didn’t say anything, and in response he burst into cackles of laughter.

—

Lorelei claimed to be very insulted that Loki thought bisexual women liked him more than her, but he knew well that she knew well that she looked like the straightest girl alive and really, that was her own fault. Once Lorelei was a confirmed booking, Sigurd swiftly followed, because he’s nothing if not a simp, and thus Loki had now established the perfect evening. A pricey club, two people who could barely stand him, and himself. 

Although he never really enjoyed it. He’d never planned to.

Anticipation was a drug, really. And as previously established, the moment was very boring indeed. And this moment, Loki found himself crammed against Sigurd, who while very attractive and an owner of some very firm abs, was covered in sweat, and only slept with Loki when he was desperate anyway. Loki squinted up at him, and tried to figure out if he was desperate tonight.

“What the fuck are you looking at?” Sigurd shouted over the music. 

Loki smiled at him genially, and proceeded to turn quickly around and elbow his way to the smoking area.

The initial smack of fresh onto his face was divine. He closed his eyes and smiled in satisfaction, continuing to move forward. The music was more muted out here, and the sound of voices and laughter blurred into itself until nothing was anything anymore. Peace! The lights were all different shades of pink and green, and they cast an ethereal glow over the throngs of young people with cigarettes in their hands, all here, all living now.

Loki bumped into someone.

“Shit!” he yelped, watching in horror as  her cocktail spilt down her crop top. “I’m so sorry! Oh my God!”

She’d flinched a bit during the incident itself, but the alcohol had seemingly tempered any stronger reaction than that. Lightly brushing at her (now soaked) top, she only laughed lightly and smiled at him. “No worries, dude!”

He pulled out his best prince charming grin (practiced in the mirror and finely tuned). “Please, let me at least buy you another drink.”

“I’m not going to say no to a drink!” she laughed shyly, and they traipsed inside to the bar. Sigurd seemed to have vanished, but out of the corner of his eye he could see Lorelei getting very close to the DJ, so maybe if Loki had any luck he was crying in the gents or something. Usual affair, really.

He bought them both mojitos, and they fought their way back through the crowd to return to the smoking area. “I like your necklace,” he said, because his mother had always said women liked having their jewelry complimented. Sif had later said that they didn’t, but Sif was as much a woman as Loki was a man, so her opinion didn’t count.

The girl giggled. “Thanks, it’s a crucifix.”

“Oh sorry!” Loki said. “I’m not from around here. That’s the catholic thing right?”

“Do you guys not have catholicism in Britain?”

Ugh, mentioning Asgard would dance a bit too close to the possibility of ‘Oh man, anyone ever told you you look like Thor’s evil brother?’. Loki chuckled instead and rolled his eyes. “I was pretty sheltered. It was like, a weird cult?”

“Oh wow! That’s so interesting.” She had a sympathetic sort of look on her face, and Loki quickly buried the irritation that bubbled up in his chest. The sympathy wasn’t for Loki anyway, just some fake man who grew up in a cult. Did he think Asgard was a cult? God, he was glad he didn’t have a therapist

“Yeah, I don’t really believe in it now, you know?” he lied easily, smiling at her. “It’s hard to have faith when it’s like, you never see any proof.”

She nodded understandingly. “Yeah, lots of people say that nowadays, what with superheroes and Asgard and all. I don’t know, I kind of think the fact I don’t have proof makes it more important.”

“Oh yes?” Loki asked. “What do you mean by that?”

She looked up at the lights, placed her free hand on the crook of the elbow of the hand holding her drink. For a second, Loki saw ancient and revered philosophers! He decided that they’d had it all wrong. Screw the forums, they should’ve done all their philosophising in smoking areas.

“It means something, you know?” she explained slowly. “Like, of course we believe in the ground and the sky and all. Those are right in front of us, we can’t deny that. Same with science, or aliens, or Asgardians. But believing in God requires a certain kind of faith. I’m going beyond seeing and believing. I’m just believing. God has a plan for me, and I believe in that.”

Loki nodded slowly. A fate? One set, but controlled by a benevolent creature and entirely unknown? It wasn’t true or real of course, but there was a beauty to it, that Loki, who’s path was clear and determined, appreciated. The alcohol (he and Lorelei made a habit of spiking drinks they bought on earth with Asgardian liqueur, so they’d, you know, work) was beginning to blur his awareness anyway. “That’s beautiful,” he said kindly.

She giggled, quickly touching her necklace and looking at the ground. “Haha, sorry! I study theology, it’s kind of a thing.”

“No, no!” Loki laughed, giving her a wide grin. “It was very interesting! Where do you study?”

They got into a long conversation about Sarah’s (her name, Loki found out eventually) degree, NYU dorms and a guy she hated in her seminars, before he noticed Lorelei making a beeline towards him, her hand around Sigurd’s wrist. 

“Hey,” she said, before frowning at him and glancing at Sarah. “I’m going home with a girl named Angelica. She’s goth and plays bass. So you need to take Sig home.”

“I’m literally an ancient hero. Of legend,” Sigurd interjected.

Lorelei turned and glared at him instead. “Well, you need to take Loki home.”

“Oh well, come on then Sig!” Loki said loudly, ignoring his scowl. “Thank you for such a lovely conversation, Sarah darling. Have a nice night!”

“Thanks Luke!” she laughed, not being not obvious about checking Sigurd out. Oh God, she probably thought he was dating Loki. Yuck, how mortifying. “See you around!”

“Go get a taxi,” Lorelei told him, before wandering off to a girl with a septum piercing and docs, which Loki considered quite basic, especially for Lorelei.

They didn’t get a taxi. They walked five minutes until Loki ducked around a corner, ignored Sigurd saying “Aren’t we getting a taxi?” and grabbed his arm before dragging him through the spaces in between the universe and dropping him on the bean bag in his living room. A solitary pringles can rolled quietly and hit Loki’s foot.

“Ugh, you’re disgusting,” Loki muttered, kicking it away.

“I hate you,” Sigurd growled, pinching his nose and clearly trying not to throw up. Loki didn’t know why, it wouldn’t be any major downgrade from how the room was currently. “And I hate that. You’re such a fucking prick Loki.” 

Time to make his exit before Sigurd regained enough strength to cause him bodily harm. “Bye honey!” he trilled, and Sigurd’s growl was cut off as he made his way to his own apartment. He didn’t wake up Verity, she had work tomorrow, so he just kicked off his shoes and climbed into bed, surrendering to unconsciousness.

--

Verity and Loki had moved in together for two reasons. 

1) Loki spent most of his time at Verity’s. He had a separate shelf in her fridge for his energy drinks and his salsa, and a special place at the bottom of her spice cupboard for his snacks. He told Verity she had full ownership over all the snacks and could have them when he’d left, but she never did. Instead she got the little clip things she used and pinched the bags closed carefully, putting them to the side for the next time he came over. It was thoughtful, and Loki didn’t know what to do with it, so he never mentioned it. He got bored quite easily anyway, and most of his ‘friends’ had a very limited tolerance of him, so most days he found himself on Verity’s couch, playing Uno and eating Oreos.

2) Verity’s flat was bad and small and Loki’s was perfect and expensive, and if he spent all his time with Verity, they may as well hang out in his sketchily acquired penthouse. Plus, paying her rent made him feel useful. It was like a payment for all the little clips on his packets of Doritos.

He didn’t regret it. Except he thought that perhaps he might be as close as he could get to regretting it as he lay in bed listening to her pounding viciously at his door. 

“Are you alive?” she yelled through the mahogany. He groaned just loudly enough to be heard, and she banged one more time for good measure before her footsteps quickly petered off towards the kitchen.

He sighed in frustration, rolling off his bed with just enough basic athletic ability to land on his feet. His vision blacked out for just a second, and his head very much rejected the idea of being on his feet. Had he shifted through space while drunk? That was so dangerous. He should have gotten like, a driving ticket. A magic driving ticket.

He stumbled into the kitchen and stared blearily at Verity. “What are you cooking?” he mumbled.

“Eggs,” she replied without turning. “Want some?”

“Hmm.” He stares at the clock. One in the afternoon? That wasn’t too bad. Verity must have just gotten in from work though, which made him feel bad. Oh, how he missed the days when he had no shame and also no friends. “No thanks, I don’t want to throw up.”

“I thought alcohol didn’t affect you?”

“Human alcohol doesn’t.” He sat down on one of the tall swivel chairs at their counter and spun around. Ow, oh fuck, that wasn’t a good idea. He grimaced and placed his pounding head in his hands. “Lorelei and I spiked our drinks with something we got from Asgard.”

“Huh.” Verity sat opposite him, eggs piled onto the plate she set down in front of her. She’d cooked the yokes, the heathen. “Did you have a good time?”

Loki stared at her. “I feel like I’m being interrogated by my mother.”

“Oh honey,” she teased, grinning through a mouthful of eggs. “Oh sweetie. Wear protection!”

Loki dramatically re-enacted retching, and she choked on her eggs. A just punishment for her crimes, he thought.

“Ew,” he moaned. “I had to see Sigurd’s flat last night. It was disgusting.”

“I wasn’t being serious?” she stared at him. “I didn’t know you actually slept with-”

“Ew, ew, no,” he interrupted. “I was just detailing how he’s far too disgusting to ever consider as a sexual object. I would probably sleep with Lorelei though.”

“As if she’d sleep with you.”

“I’m forever alone!” he cried “Like the meme!”

“If you think referencing memes from 2008 is going to help you get laid-” she got up, pulled the dishwasher open and put her plate in without washing it off. Awful dishwasher etiquette, and Loki was from a place where they washed dishes with magic, so she had no excuse. “-then I think you might be beyond help.”

“I’m waiting for the right person,” he mumbled, squinting in the light streaming in from their egregiously large windows. “Like America. I ship America and myself.”

“America’s a lesbian,” Verity said.

“I’m a woman sometimes!” He got up and opened the fridge. “It’d be perfectly possible if she could tolerate me.”

“Which she can’t.”

“Yeah,” Loki said in faux-disappointment. “Ergo, forever alone, I’m mister lonely, involuntarily celibate, and sent to the friendzone.”

He shut the fridge, no bacon in sight, and stared at the front of it trying to consider his next move. He could head down to the store, but also he couldn’t, because he couldn’t imagine bringing himself to put on something other than the shorts he was currently in that said ‘BAD WITCH’ in bright green, metallic lettering on the back (a gift from Kate) and also he was pretty certain a drink had been poured on him the night before, judging by the smell of lager and the way his fringe had congealed into a hard point overnight. He wasn’t in any fit state to walk down the street. He had standards to maintain.

Yes, he was an illusionist, but he was a hungover illusionist with a headache, thus he opened up DoorDash and ordered McDonald’s. 

“Vee?” he called down the hall. “Do you want anything from McDonald’s?” 

“Ew,” she called back. “No.”

He placed his order and looked back up at the fridge. They had a shared calendar printed out on that kind of slippy photo paper so they could use whiteboard markers on it and make sure to not double book having people over. Last time it had happened, Verity’s cousin had to top-and-tail with Thor on the couch, which was a weird experience for everyone, but mostly for Daniel. Currently, the calendar was pretty sparse, since it was early April, but Verity had written something in for Sunday. ‘Easter - Mom’s House’.

He stared at it, confused. He didn’t turn when he heard Verity’s feet pattering back into the kitchen. “Hey, I didn’t know you were religious.”

“Huh?” Verity had flopped onto the couch and was fiddling with the remote control, probably trying to turn on Dr Phil. “Not really, what do you mean?”

“You’re going to your Mum’s for Easter?”

“Oh I guess.” The Judge Judy theme song streamed from the TV. Loki stood corrected. “I don’t believe in it or anything. It’s just tradition.”

“Huh.” He glanced out onto the street. It was lively. They were in pretty central Manhattan, and usually when you looked onto the road it was hard to see a part of the path that wasn’t covered in black throngs of city goers. He sometimes wondered where they were going, had they plans, or were they just wandering, aimless and free? Loki had always thought it would be night to wander off and see where his feet would take him if he didn’t walk with direction or intention. “Had an interesting conversation last night.”

“Yeah?” Verity responded mindlessly, staring at the TV. 

“About religion. With a girl in the smoking area.”

“Dude.” Verity leaned over, effortlessly butch. “Conversations about religion in a smoking area? I’m putting my foot down. Either you download Grindr or find a therapist.”

“Both of those options are severely limited by the fact that I am a divine being and a world renowned criminal,” he replied. “Do you think guys on Grindr are into my evil vibes, actually?”

“Guys on Grindr are definitely into your evil vibes.”

“Thanks Verity,” he said, turning and heading towards the door. “You always have my back. Maybe I’ll find a bae after all.”

He grinned at her sounds of indignation and headed to his room to sleep his headache away.

--

Loki had always been rather a superior child. He had no need for childish matters of ‘bravery’ and ‘heroics’, instead favouring his intellect and insight. His mother said he was a bright young man, thank you. So he cared little about Thor informing him he was too small and weak to spar with him and his friends. However, he had in return let Thor know that he would be instead spending some time with his very close friends, who Thor did not have an acquaintance with and who thought Loki was very cool and interesting indeed. Thus, appearances had to be upheld.

He peered around the corner of the great, awning entrance to the Bifröst control room. Lord Heimdall had his back turned, but Loki was not a fool. A child, but not a fool.

“Your Highness,” the Watcher called out, turning to face him. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

He inched forward, the tips of his fingers trailing the chilly gold-plated walls of the gate. “I was bored,” he lied.

“Very well.” Heimdall set down the Key and sat heavily down onto its platform. “Would you be able to keep me company during my break?”

Loki lifted his chin, glanced around himself and headed to sit beside him. “I suppose I can grace you with my presence, for some time at least.”

“Have you a full schedule, your Highness?”

Anger and indignation built in his chest. Loki whipped around and scowled at him. “I’m very busy.”

Heimdall’s playful expression sunk with practiced ease into something serious. “My apologies. Of course you are, my prince.”

Loki crossed his arms. He knew that Lord Heimdall knew all his business, all of everyone’s business, but it struck him like a spear to his chest to have been mocked over his… lack of desirability. How dare he? Loki may be a boy, but he was his prince. It was not Heimdall’s place to mock him. 

He struggled to think of something dignified to reply, and the pressure of the silence between them built into a garotte that tightened around his neck. He daren’t look at Heimdall, imagining a mocking grin staring down at him. It was unlikely, and would be utterly out of place on the man’s face, but Loki would rather avoid the possibility altogether.

“How is your brother, your Highness?” Heimdall said to break the silence.

In a fit of rage, Loki slammed his palm against the platform. His eyes watered with the pain of it. “Why does everyone only care about what Thor is doing? How Thor is? I am not a vessel through which people may be updated about my brother’s status!”

In his anger he’d turned to glare at Heimdall, and was horrified to find the man’s face transformed by pity. Loki scowled in disgust, and stared at the wall in the opposite direction.

“I did not mean to imply anything as such, your Highness,” Heimdall explained carefully. “I merely asked out of having nothing else very interesting to say. Perhaps I should have asked how you are?”

Loki hesitated, glanced back up. “I’m well,” he mumbled shortly.

“That’s good to hear,” Heimdall replied, staring ahead, out the gates and down the Bifröst. Loki wondered if he saw that which lay in front of him with more clarity, or if what his tangible eyes caught was nothing different to everything else he saw. “Is there anything in particular you would like to speak about?”

Loki was silent for a moment. A topic had been weighing on his mind, one he hesitated to bring to his mother. A heavy topic indeed. “Heimdall?” he asked. “Why am I destined to be a monster?”

It had been a burden to bear, acknowledging what was written upon the tapestries spun deep in Nornheim. When mother had first told him of his destiny years ago, it had seemed like a childhood game, but everyday the gravity of his situation held him just a little firmer to the ground. All has its place, his mother had told him, and your place is important. It is against you that others will shine.

It coloured everything he did, and how others treated him. Thor still loved him as a brother, but everyday his pride in his own journey grew and Loki could only stand and watch as he looked on his brother with a little more suspicion, held him at a slightly further distance. Loki’s cruelty had been encouraged, not in a direct way, but in the ways in which his parents and carers were cruel towards him. Like a knife being sharpened. 

Heimdall did not move. “Everything has its duty. Our world is not much but an elaborate play, and we act according to our roles so that the other realms may live in our image.”

“But why me?” Loki pressed. “Why can’t I be the hero?”

Neither mentioned what lay between them. A man and a child and a destiny for two corpses, having slain one another, to lie in the middle of their world as it burned.

“I’m sorry, my prince,” Heimdall said quietly. “Perhaps take some relief in the fact that you needn’t worry over who you will be. The Midgardians in particular struggle with virtue.”

“Really?” Loki muttered, head in his hands. “Isn’t it very freeing for them?”

“Not as such,” he replied. “In return for their agency, they are burdened with the duty to be ever kind and charitable to one another, or be damned for their failure to do so. It's simpler for us. Our fate is predetermined, and while you may be the villain, you are doing your duty as such and can rest easy knowing that it is a moral and just thing for you to be.”

Loki was silent for a second, staring morosely ahead. “But I don’t want to be the villain.”

“I’m sorry, Prince Loki,” Heimdall replied, resting a hand on his shoulder. “But the tapestries have already been spun.”

--

The Allmothers, in their omnipowetful ability to be incredibly annoying, always called him when he was in the middle of doing things. In this case, a lovely girl named Amelia who had told him he looked like Timotheé Chalamet.

She screamed, causing Loki to whip around with a curse only to find Gaia staring at him through his mirror, disgust on her face and her right eye covered by Loki’s Blondie postcard that Verity had bought him from some emo shop.

Gritting his teeth, he looked down at Amelia, who seemed to be sinking into some form of shock. “Oh man,” he said. “I’m so fucking sorry. Uh, I kind of have to take this. Another time maybe?”

She looked up at him in speechless horror before turning quickly and climbing out from under him. Before he could even look up at her he heard the slam of the door. He glanced up. Huh, at least she’d taken her shirt with her. Loki was a feminist after all.

With a sigh, he turned to face Gaia. “My Lady!” He greeted with gritted teeth. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

She held his gaze for a few awkward seconds.

“Okay,” he said. “I would say, if anything it’s your fault that you decided to just turn up in my mirror without any prior warning. Really? You can’t expect me to be celibate. I’m Loki.”

She graced him with a performatively regal sigh and a significantly less regal eye roll. “The Allmothers have a task for you to complete, Loki.”

“Don’t you always?” He grumbled, pulling a hoodie on to cover up some of his nudity. Amelia may have only lost a shirt, but Loki was already down to his boxers. He was a feminist, after all.

“There is a great treasure in the belonging of one of our own, one who dwells in the realm of Midgard.”

“In English?” 

The Allmother paused. Her eyebrows furrowed. “Your first language is the tongue of Jötunheim.”

“It’s just a-, it’s just a phrase, okay? Anyway, can you get to the crux of it? I was busy.”

“You aren’t busy anymore.”

He threw his arms out dramatically, making sure his irritation was painted clear on his face. “Thanks for that, by the way!”

“We would like-,” she continued, gathering her composure. “-for you to retrieve the ancient sword, Gram. It’s power is too great for us to allow it to remain out of our grasp. We have waited too long already, and time is of the essence.”

“Gram?” Loki asked. “You mean Sigurd’s sword?”

“The legendary sword Gram does indeed lie in the hands of the hero Sigurd-”

“But Sig loves his sword,” he interrupted. “He’s going to hate me if I take it for you. That’s narc behaviour.”

“This is your duty, Prince Loki, to your people,” Gaia said sternly. “You are, and have always been, a narc.”

“Hey, fuck you-”

She was gone in the next second, and Loki was left staring at his face in the mirror, and the way the skin underneath his eyes was grey and sunken, which made his eyes pop in a sort of consumption-chic. He looked a bit like Maleficent, he thought in an attempt to distract himself from the dread of the task that now lay before him and the inevitable broken friendship (he didn’t have many to break left).

But without all the milf energy. Loki didn’t have any milf energy, which was probably the source of most of his problems

--

Often, Loki found the easiest way to avoid all of his issues was to pretend he was a funny, quirky little guy living a funny, quirky little life. Oh Loki, he’s the token evil teammate, the funny comic relief in stories about other people, relegated to side character (but hot enough that all the fan art and fic was going to centre him). This allowed him to get away with his faults, which were many and numerous, by playing them off as the work of that darned scamp, Loki. This situation however, was one that worried Loki, as Sigurd was nothing if he wasn’t two things; 1) absolutely unenamoured by Loki and everything Loki had going for himself, and 2) in love with that fucking sword.

Loki sat down cross-legged on his bed and contemplated the choices he could make here. He could take the sword, and try to manipulate the situation to make Sigurd look like he was overreacting. Take the sword to the flat and mess around while he showed it to Verity. But, he knew, Verity wouldn’t play along, because her moral compass was ever on the straight and narrow and anyway, she’d know he was lying. 

Lorelei would side with Sigurd over him, because she didn’t trust the Asgardian establishment and they all knew that the tentative little bit of control that let them languish in something resembling a real life on Midgard rested on Sigurd having enough power that Asgardia would rather leave him alone than bother. Losing Gram would put that in jeopardy, and Lorelei wouldn’t trade a shoelace for Loki, nevermind her happy ending. He knew well enough that this theft would be unjust, would put all of the power into the hands of the already powerful. He knew this, and he knew that Sig and Lorelei? Wouldn’t hurt a fly, really. For all the three of them pretended to hate each other, Loki knew they were good people, and they just wanted to live their lives in peace.

He could simply refuse. Not take the sword, let the Allmothers deal with it some other way. He could say it was above his pay grade, which it was.

Except, he couldn’t. Not really. He had duties that Sigurd and Lorelei couldn’t possibly understand. That idea couldn’t push its way forward from the back of his mind, as if constrained by something, writhing back and forth to break free. Or was it? Or was that an excuse, a claim to someone that he was trying, still, to do the right thing, and that it wasn’t his fault when he failed to.

He sighed, and stood up. His wardrobe was a mess, but it was an organised mess, and anyway it was a bright, sunny day outside and he could find his dragon scale armour easily from the way it glinted in the light at the back of his slogan t-shirts. 

--

Sig had moved all the dirty washing from his desk chair. Loki didn’t have high hopes that it was for any reason other than playing PC games though. Sig was really into, like, Call of Duty and Halo. Were they PC? Loki didn’t know. He preferred superior gaming experiences, like Professor Layton.

Lo and behold, Loki found the mysteriously disappeared dirty clothing on Sig’s couch. For a guy whose feats and adventures were written down in legend, he really had some drab taste in furnishings.

Loki moved silently through the flat, letting just a little bit of his seidr seep into his steps to cushion the noise. He didn’t turn on any lights, instead relying on a little bit of patience to let his eyes adjust to the dark. His Jotunn heritage, dare he say it, came in handy at times like this due to the Jotnär having pretty decent night vision. This was in order to do crimes and eat children, his nursemaid had informed him when he was small. Well, Loki was doing crimes, but the jury was out on the eating children bit.

Loki was an expert catburglar, tales of his stealthiness were scribbled on the walls of ancient Midgardian caves, the remnants of long extinct societies, all of which he had outlived. Thus, he cleverly noticed the Guitar Hero™ plastic guitar and stepped over it.

Loki knew one thing about Sigurd. He was paranoid. Thus, Loki had a suspicion about where he would put Gram, and if he was correct he knew this job wouldn’t be easy.

He eased open the bedroom door, and watched as the hero of the stories he had been told as a babe snored while laying on his front. Huh, great ass.

Loki mentally smacked himself. Bad!

His attention was then quickly snatched by the gleaming sword that lay against the left bedpost. Ding ding, we have a winner! Sigurd both expected his sword to be stolen and expected to have to fight off home invaders, and so he kept his greatest asset (other than his ass) right next to him in his most vulnerable times. Loki was his worst nightmare, well usually, but even more so at this moment.

He crept forward, stepping carefully over strewn clothes. Wait, was that Lorelei’s blouse? Ugh, he didn’t want to think about that. He’d much rather they remain entirely celibate in his mind.

Loki crept closer, and reached out to grasp the hilt of the sword silently.

“...What the fuck? Loki?”

He should have run, probably. Teleported, gone invisible, maybe should have even jumped through the window. That might have thrown Sigurd off the scent right? Prince Loki, God of Trickery and Harbinger of Ragnarök wouldn’t have just leapt through a window. Well, the window was seventeen floors up actually, so maybe a regular burglar wouldn’t have either.

Anyway, what happened was he stood stock still, unable to move a muscle or turn to face Sigurd, as if he were labouring under the delusion that Sigurd was a creature that tracked prey by movement. He looked like something out of Looney Tunes, which wasn’t fantastic for his dignity.

“Loki,” Sigurd snapped again.

He turned, and winced at the look of outrage on his friend’s face. Sigurd was sat up on his elbow, his other arm on his comforter. He looked like he was ready to attack someone. Loki was pretty sure he hadn’t expected it to be - well, Loki.

“What the fuck were you doing?” he said. “Were you stealing Gram? Why? For who?”

Ouch, that hurt. He may have been stealing it for someone else, but it was a bit upsetting that Sigurd had immediately disregarded the idea he was working in his own interest.

He opened his mouth. Closed it. “The Allmothers send their regards,” he finally admitted drily.

If anything, Sigurd’s outrage grew. “How- How could you?”

A bit dramatic, Loki thought. Sigurd leapt out of his bed, and Loki didn’t have the chance to step back before his shoulders were in Sigurd’s bruising grip and his back pushed hard against the wall. “You know what this means,” Sigurd said, his disgust evident. “You aren’t stupid, Loki. You know what you’re doing.”

Oh, that was it, wasn’t it? Loki wasn’t evil because he did evil things. He was evil because he knew they were wrong before he did them, and he did them anyway.

“I have to,” he mumbled weakly. Was that a lie? Verity would know. “I have no choice.”

“Yes you do,” Sigurd said, releasing his grip and stepping back, “Yes you do, you’re just too much of a coward to admit it. You’re so desperate to play happy families. I can see it in you, and so can Lorelei. All you want is to be useful to people, even if it’s for the Allmothers, who treat you like shit. You do their fucking dirty work and they kick you around and you love it, because you get to be part of their rotten little story.”

Loki stared at him, suddenly feeling utterly, entirely tired beyond belief. Sigurd could not tell him anything that he did not tell himself.

“You’re a coward. You’re a fucking coward who does everything the Allmothers ask of you. One moment you sneer at them up there, in Asgard, and pretend that you and me and Lorelei are all in the same boat, but the next moment you bare your neck to them. One day they’re going to ask you to hurt someone you really care about, and you know what? You’ll do it. They’ll ask you to hurt Thor, or Verity, and you’ll do it without a second thought because you’re a coward, Loki, and you always will be.”

His breath caught in his throat. “I wouldn’t hurt Verity.”

“Yes, you would. If someone put it on a tapestry you’d do it in a fucking heartbeat.”

“I see, well,” he paused, looked to his right to avoid Sigurd’s gaze. “I’ll let you get back to sleep I suppose.”

Sigurd reached out to grab him, but he was gone before he had a chance.

—

Received FRI 2:08

Verity: hey u coming back tonight or what

Verity: im assuming ur working

Verity: if u are there’s leftover pasta bake in the fridge. Ik you hate leftovers but its on offer. Im off to bed, night!

Received FRI 11:02

Verity: hey called lorelei to check in on you and she says you and sig aren’t talking. She didnt seem thrilled w you either. U ok? 

Verity: call me if you get the chance ok

Received MON 15:47

Verity: yh ok this is cringe but please call. Im worried

Verity: you usually lmk when youre gone this long and sig was being suspicious

Verity: i asked him if hed seen you and he like laughed

Verity: idk maybe hed be more concerned if something had happened but u guys dont exactly have a normal expectation for health and safety in the workplace

Received WED 23:21

Verity: please call i’m worried

Verity: please

Received THU 18:54

Verity: you’re a fucking idiot

Verity: I hate you

Received THU 19:02

Verity: i didn’t mean that

Verity: sorry.

Verity: please do call. please

--

Verity wasn’t the only one texting him, which would have done wonders for his ego if it had been anywhere near still intact, but she was the only one who’s texts he kept re reading, scanning them obsessively and trying to convince himself he was doing the right thing.

The thing that nagged him though, was how would he know what the right thing was?

All his life, the right thing was whatever was in stride with where he was determined to end up. The path had been laid out for him - all he had to do was walk it. But, though the Norns had written out his beginning, his end, his great misdeeds and stories, they hadn’t written about things like whether he should get KFC or not, whether he’d be good at Mario Party or what dog breed was his favourite (alsatian). They had never had the name Verity Lewis brush their lips.

Because this world was untethered. It simply wasn’t important enough for the Norns to have seen. Did that mean that they were free, here? Was that bad or good? To Loki, who despite everything had spent an eternity comfortable in the knowledge that he knew what would happen, and that the future was clear to him as long as he could stand in the halls he’d grown up in and stare at the tapestries on the walls, the idea of absolute undetermined fate was deeply terrifying. It caught in his throat, wrapped around his heart, squeezed the warmth out of his chest. 

But Sigurd was right, and so he had a decision to make.

There were people walking around under him, where he sat perched on the roof of a Soviet era apartment building in Brno. They didn’t know what would happen to them, how many kids they’d have, whether they’d marry or how they’d die. They didn’t know any of that, and that meant they could decide.

Huh.

--

He stumbled when he flashed in, and his hand reached out steady himself against the wall. The lights were off, but after a couple of seconds he heard a slight clutter from Verity’s room. Taking a deep breath he made his way to the kitchen and sat down at the bar. He didn’t bother to switch the light on, instead just collapsed into the chair and placed his head in his hands.

The lights switched on. “Loki?”

He peeked at her from between his fingers. Verity stared at him as if she couldn’t quite decide whether to be angry or happy. She was squinting (she wasn’t wearing glasses - she must have been asleep). He must have looked suitably miserable because instead of launching into a tirade she narrowed her eyes and slowly moved to sit opposite him, as if trying to tame some vicious creature. Apt, perhaps.

Their silence hung very heavily. “I’m sorry,” Loki eventually said, mortified to hear a crack in his voice from disuse.

She watched him carefully. “I forgive you,” she replied. Not ‘it’s okay’, because Verity found lying, even unconsciously, very difficult. “Can you tell me what’s up?”

By ‘can’, Loki knew that Verity was asking as if this was something related to his work for the Allmothers, but he found that even though this wasn’t any secret mission detail he was forbidden from sharing, he still found it hard to describe.

“I mean,” he muttered, breaking away from her stare. “Where would you like me to start?”

“Wherever you want to?”

He swallowed. “I had to steal something from Sigurd. Gram-” She opened her mouth and he jerked his shoulders defensively. “Please let me just explain. The Allmothers asked me too. I knew that if I did it it would put Sig and Lorelei’s relative safety at a significant risk. But,” he paused, bit his lip, horrified by the lump in his throat. “Even though I knew it was the wrong thing to do, and that all of you, all of my friends, would think less of me because of it, I had to do it. I had to do it because if I don’t do things that are wrong, that are bad, I am not filling the role that I am set out to fill, that I have always been set out to fill.

“There are tapestries, in Asgard,” he explained, a wobble entering his tone. “They’ve been there since before me, before my parents, before anyone. They were woven by the Norns, who see all of the past, the present and the future. They were woven so that we, who will be images of all the people of the Nine Realms and who will serve as a reflection of their large and varied communion, could know where we fit and what roles we are to play. And I’m a villain, Verity. I am the bad guy, because someone has got to be. There are people who actively choose to be bad and evil and selfish all over the shop, and someone has to represent them in the grand scheme of things. And, mainly, I have to keep everyone’s hands clean by making mine dirty.”

Her hands reached steadily out, grabbed one of his and held it between them. They were tears threatening to fall now, and they choked up his voice.

“So I do what the Allmothers ask me to, and I antagonise Thor, and I play my part as the bad guy of the story so that one day that story may be told to children as they are tucked into bed, so that they know that immorality causes you nothing but strife. I am supposed to have that strife, and through this my immorality is good and right, because I am an example.”

He paused. “Sigurd said I would hurt you, if they asked me to.”

“Would you?” she asked.

A second passed. “I don’t know. Maybe. I’d rather not risk it, but I thought you at least deserved an explanation for my sudden disappearance.”

She leaned back then, stared out their windows and onto the road beneath them, still busy despite the hour. “Do you want to know what I think?”

“Dare I ask?” he chuckled wetly.

Her voice was firm. “I think that’s bullshit. I know you’re telling the truth, that you might hurt me if your Moms asked you. But I think you don’t know that that’s not true, which is why it’s registering as right to me.”

He squinted at her in confusion.

“You believe it,” she explained. “Which is why it’s registering as true to me. But that doesn’t mean you would, it just means you don’t think you’re a good person, and that’s not news.

“You see yourself as some kind of cut-out character with one trait, a yin to Thor’s yang or some shit, but you only think that’s all real because people have told you it is. Who’s to say those tapestries are anything? I think that you - all of you Asgardians - are terrified of being unmoored, so you make up shit like this so that you don’t have to grapple with morality.”

He tried to interrupt, but Verity continued. “You’re all terrified of life, so you pretend it’s one big play you’re putting on for our benefit, with roles and lines so that you needn’t make ‘em up. But you know what? Why don’t you just try? Try to improvise. Break away from it all. Maybe those tapestries do mean something, but maybe they just come true because you all keep doing what they say.

“You’re not the bad guy in a play, Loki,” she told him, her voice full of emotion and her hand rubbing his. It was just enough to keep him tethered to reality, he thought. “You’re my friend. You’re funny, and flippant. You don’t like to talk about your emotions. You don’t have great self-esteem and you kick ass at Jenga. You’re playing a part, but you know the thing about actors? They have lives when they get off the stage, and you could too.”

--

His boots echoed across the ground as he climbed the short hill to his destination. It was dust, not dirt, that he trod on, and the air was stale and cloyed in his lungs. It was the kind of air that felt like it didn’t blow, but just hung in the air for eternity, older than you by indescribable amounts.

No one went here. It was unplottable by some working laid down long before even the beginning of Asgardian history. It had taken Loki four days to crack, because 1) he’d spent all of his non-eating, non-sleeping time in the last couple of days focused on it, 2) he’d already made a groundwork as a teenager before his mother had told him off for meddling in things he shouldn’t have been and 3) he was pretty fucking good. Really, the only reason he hadn’t touched it before was because as he became a man, he grew to respect the Norns. Things had changed.

“Hello!” he called, not surprised to find the three women staring at him, likely well aware of his arrival for at least eternity, or something.

“Liesmith,” Lady Verdandi spoke in a low, powerful voice. “You have come to rattle the chains that you feel resting upon your shoulders.”

“Yep,” he responded, popping the ‘p’.

“These chains,” Skuld said in a tight voice. “Are imaginary.”

“No actually,” he said, beginning to pace around the room. “You see, I don’t really care if they’re ‘imaginary’ or whatever. I actually am just here to let you know that I’m just going to be kind of doing my own thing from now on.”

“Your ‘own thing’?” Urd sneered. “ You do not have your ‘own thing’. The fate we have laid out for you is everything you are.”

“Everything I am is just a mask.  A mask that you put on me!”

“Oh? That implies something on which a mask can be put. Is there anything under your mask, Loki? Do you even know?”

“Well, I guess I’m going to find out,” he ground out. They were sat down, staring up at him, and he felt unnervingly like he was still a child who had been summoned to his father’s study to receive an admonishment for troublemaking.

“You will find out,” Verdandi explained calmly. “That you are mistaken, and that you will play your part in the fate that will become and will end and will begin again, whether you try to fight against it or not.”

“So that’s it then?” Loki said softly, although his voice still echoed across the ancient walls that enclosed him. “There’s no path to grace for me. I’m your villainous fool, cast in this grand play so that your heroes may show their virtue in my vanquishment. I’m good when I’m bad, and I’m bad when I’m good.”

He paused, and stared her down.

“Well, I’m afraid I’d rather be bad on my own terms, actually.”

Verdandi had opened her mouth to say something else, probably something even more patronising, but before she had the chance Loki had stepped between reality and left Nornheim and its frigid, stale air behind him.

--

“Saw you coming,” the Watcher said when Loki stepped out in front of him. 

Loki smiled. “Naturally,”

Heimdall sat tiredly on the Bifröst’s lock. Loki noticed with a sort of jolt that Heimdall was getting old. Maybe they all were. “What is it you would like from me, my prince?” 

“Oh nothing really,” he answered. “I just thought I should let someone know that I will be unable to complete the most recent mission that the Allmothers have given me. In fact, perhaps you could let them know that I’m putting in my two week’s notice, so to speak? Although I’m not really giving them any notice, let alone two weeks.”

“Oh? Might I ask what has brought this on, your highness?”

Loki crossed his arms. “I’m trying this new thing called ‘making your own destiny’. All the cool kids are doing it.”

Heimdall nodded. He wouldn’t have been able to have viewed Loki’s conversation with the Norns, but he would have seen what Verity had said. “I wish you luck, dear child,” he said softly.

Loki’s smile turned quiet and genuine for just a moment, before he turned away and took a few steps. Wait! He had something else to mention.

He looked back at Heimdall.

“By the way, maybe I am going to kill you someday,” he said. “”But I promise that I’m going to try my damndest not to.”

With that, he stepped back into New York, and headed towards Dominoes to pick up their pizza. They were doing movie night, he and Verity. They were going to watch Legally Blonde. Loki thought about - What was her name? Susie? Sarah? He thought maybe she was right, in the end. Maybe it was a gift to believe in what can’t be seen, and thus a gift to follow darkened paths. But the path that brought him home felt warm and reliable, just like it always did.

[imaginesbymk]

“My Girl Who’s Not Really My Girl, But Is My Girl Anyway.”

The Pacific One Shot

Summary: Snafu opens up to the guys and tells them about you, how you two are hook up buddies, and he ended up falling in love with you before enlisting in the war. After he returns home, you two make it official.

Pairing: Merriell “Snafu” Shelton x Fem!Reader

Non Requested

Tags: swearing, ethnic slurs, smoking, my shitty attempt at writing implied smut (not too detailed), mentions of war violence

Word Count: 1,753

Author’s Note: snafuuuuu!! i don’t write smut as its stated in my rules, but i thought i’d give this one a try lmfao and verdict: i’m not continuing on doing so because to me writing smut doesn’t suit me. likes/reblogs/feedback needed & appreciated <333

THE boys ganged up on Peck - but for a good reason. Peck was a man who mesmerizingly gazes at a photo of a chorus girl he met and fell in love with while his wife waits for him to come home every day, and is also the man who had gotten their mortar rounds with his own ripped poncho, resulting in getting a fellow marine killed after running to retrieve new ones.

Snafu was the first one to call him out for it. When it came to mentioning girls and whether or not each of them had one, Snafu was definitely going to be next to at least mention a name, or coat himself with a comment, and so he did.

“I don’t care what you think!” Peck exclaimed, annoyed by everyone, especially Snafu. “It’s not like you wouldn’t do the same.”

“Oh?” Snafu said, grinning. “I got a girl waitin’ for me to come home back in Louisiana.”

“Really?” Eugene raised his brow, showing a hint of curiosity that his friend never opened up about it until now. “You’ve never mentioned her before.”

He shrugged. “Nah. Well, she’s my girl who’s not really my girl, but is my girl anyway,” Snafu paid no mind to the twisted confused looks on everyone’s faces, he just continued lighting his cigarette with his filthy hands completely worn from the battle.

“What does that even mean? Is she your girl or not?” Jay D’Leau asked.

“We just fuck around, but we’re not together,” Snafu spoke with the cigarette lit in his mouth.

“Not surprised,” Leyden says. 

“Fuck’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means it’s not like you could hold down a girl for more than a week,” Peck says.

“You don’t got a say in shit, Peck. You carry a photograph of a Chorus broad while your wife dreads the day you die in the hands of a fuckin’ Jap,” he snaps. “I’m the luckiest son’a’bitch there ever was.”

“What’s her name?” Hamm asks.

THE tiny storage closet could fit up to only two people at a time, one if they were to bend over to get a hold of supplies from the shelves and bottom drawers. In that particular night was that storage closet used as a place of privacy for the extroverted Snafu, named Merriell back in Louisiana, and his girl who’s not really his girl, but is his girl anyway: you. Y/n.

People would have definitely heard you, whether they were walking past or were simply far away inside any seminar. The door to the closet was literally being pounded on by your back hitting against it with such force, after all. As for Merriell, he couldn’t give two shits. He’d let all of Louisiana hear you to let them know you belonged to him at that moment.

“You’re way too good at that,” you caught your breath moments after, straightening your dress despite its now developed wrinkles. Your hair was no longer neat and styled, but you did your best to fix it without a mirror.

“You’re experienced and lustful when you know what you’re doing,” he said so confidently. 

“So when are you leaving?”

“Next week. Time flies when you’re having fun,” Merriell put his shirt on, exposing a bit of his chest from the buttons down, and realized you weren’t paying attention to his answer. “Ya hair’s fine, girl.”

You rolled your eyes. “I don’t wanna walk out there and catch people staring at me, wondering what the hell happened to mess up my hair.”

“Oh they’ll definitely know what happened,” Merriell smirks. “They’re gonna know you walked inside a closet and got drilled by Snafu Shelton until the cows came home.”

You chuckled. “Snafu? Are you sure you want people to go along with that nickname?”

He grins. “As long as I go along with it first.” He tightened his belt, shuffling a bit around the enclosed space of the storage closet.

You ran your hands down his chest. “I’ll write to you.”

Snafu chuckles. “Don’t get serious on me now. I’ll be fine. And don’t write to me,” he then went ahead to button his shirt.

You frown. “Why?”

“It’s a waste of paper.”

“Don’t you wanna keep in touch? Or don’t tell me, you’re planning your proposal to some girl up north?”

“No girl. But there’s nothing we have for each other but a good fuck, that’s all.” And he opens the door, letting you walk out first. He followed you behind, wishing he could hold your hand. 

OK. Perhaps that was a lie. He saw you more than a good fuck. He saw something in you that gave him a bigger motivation to make it to the end of the war, to do his part and come back home. He was gonna miss catching a whiff of your strong perfume that would make him cough and crinkle his nose from his sinuses deteriorating. He was gonna miss how your hair was in his hand as he played with it while cuddling at a movie theatre. 

He was gonna miss you.

NIGHT fell when Snafu hopped off the train. Louisiana was still the way it was when he had left it. The same old calls from food stands, chatter from one group to another. It was nothing new, but it was home. 

He stopped to take a moment first. He didn’t want to wake up Eugene, who had been fast asleep in his seat. Knowing he had something to say before bidding a farewell to his friend, he bit his tongue and kept walking towards the exit.

Snafu, of course, didn’t expect to have anyone wait for him at the station. No family, no friends, no girl. So... what now? He thought. Just find yourself an old man as your chauffeur home, grab a beer and a bowl of peanuts.

“Damn, you look like a lost puppy, Snafu.” Snafu froze in his tracks. He shifted his weight from his duffel bag slung over his shoulder to turn himself around, to find you standing out from the walking crowd. 

A sight for sore eyes.

“Shit, you’re here. As loyal as they come!” A smirk appeared on his face due to the surprise unexpected surprise, even referring to him as “Snafu”.

“You really think I wouldn’t be here waiting for your ugly ass to come home?” you teased. 

“That’s four years of waiting,” Snafu points out. “Maybe five. Shit, you are loyal as they come.” You smile, your eyes twinkling like Christmas was happening way too early near the end of August.

“I have my parents’ car. They told me to bring it back by nine o’clock. I just want them to give me a later curfew, y’know? At least now that you’re home, I have a better reason to borrow it more often.”

“Well all I wanna do is pop a cold one once I stretch my fucking legs. I felt sick from the train ride home.”

“Motion sickness? It’s just one way.”

“A mixture of smoke and onions stunk up the whole boxcar.”

You made a face at that comment, and walked Snafu to your car. He stayed in the passenger seat even though you had pulled up to the house and shut off the engine. You both sat in silence for a moment. 

“Should I even ask how service was?”

Snafu answered your question by changing the subject. “I really missed you, y/n.”

Cocking a brow, you gave him a look. “You insisted for us to not write to each other.”

“I missed you, whether we wrote to each other or not.” Snafu looks ahead of the night through the opened car window. “It was hell out there. I felt like all of Louisiana could hear it. But I knew I would come home to see that pretty lil’ ass of yours again.”

You chuckle. “Snafu-”

“Merriell.”

You frown. “I thought that’s your name now.”

“It is... but when you call me by my Christian name, you chase the loud noises away.” It didn’t matter if that was a metaphor or if he was starting to hear things that could cause a trigger in his senses.

Either way, you just had to ask, “Merriell, is everything right?”

Snafu- Merriell- looked at you. “Yeah. I mean, I think so. Y/n, I think I’m in love with you. Is that all right?”

“Anything that’s been goin’ on between us is just fine, Merriell Shelton.”

“I’ve been in love with you ever since we started foolin’ around. I didn’t think much of it. I always thought a new broad would occupy my thoughts a week after, but each week passes and all I did was look forward to seeing you and you only.” 

Sighing, you take his hand that was rested on his leg. Merriell came to realization that this was the first time you two ever held hands without it leading to sex right after. Physical intimacy, indeed. “Merriell, I had a feeling our hookups would turn out into something more.”

“Really?” he asks.

“We were there for each other no matter what. It’s like I found my ride or die - y’know before you rode out of America for the war trying not to die.”

Merriell stroked your hand with his thumb, his eyes locked onto yours. “You were always my girl. Someone special.”

“I wasn’t really your girl to begin with,” you laughed. “But I also wasn’t anyone else’s, either.” Merriell leaned in, kissing you deeply. None of you pulled away until you had to catch a breath. “We waited a long time to do this again.”

Merriell leaned in again, closer this time that he could go on top of you. He whispered against your lips. “And thank Jesus H. I’m back.”

You both kissed for a couple of minutes. It stopped abruptly when you remembered where you two were at the moment. “Shit, sorry. My dad could have opened the blinds. You should come inside for dinner. My mother would be thrilled to see you in a uniform.”

“Shit, I’m already meeting your folks?” he curls his lips to a nervous grin. “I know damn well ya Dad’s gonna stare me down across the dinner table.”

“As long as you don’t tell him that I call you daddy, too, then you’ll be fine.” You earned a laugh from Merriell Shelton, and you two got out of your car and both walked up to the front steps, holding your boyfriend’s hand.

THE END

[lonelypond]

BETWEEN US

NicoMaki, Love Live, 3.6K, 1/1

Summary: Nishikino Maki and Yazawa Nico have many challenges ahead, but they get through them together.

Between Us

Is this what love is? Not a fire that bites painfully but two people laying so close to feel every breath, hands nearly touching, eyes on the brilliant stars opening themselves up suddenly, sure enough to share truths they speak into the night, this solitary space, this private moment between them.

Nishikino Maki spoke first, always the more impatient, curious about Yazawa Nico’s state of mind. “What do you want to do, Nico-chan?”

“Nico wants to show everyone that little and cute can be strong, sexy smart, talented, funny, hard working, successful….I’m tired of how the world treats cute girls like Nico. Nico is a star.” Nico flung her arms out, to encompass the sky. “They should be in awe.”

I am, Maki said to herself, and then thought, why not say it out loud. This was all new, why not be bolder.

“I am.”

Nico squeezed Maki’s hand, a reward for honesty. “What do you want to do, Maki-chan?”

No one said Maki’s name like Nico. It had been Maki’s anchor through the continuing craziness of Muse, Eli’s taskmaster torture, qualifying, Honoka’s collapse, then starting over, right as they discovered these new feelings, a gift from all they’d been through.

“I want to use the Nishikino fortune for new things, good things, to stop propping up out dated ways and awful people. I want to find new ways to help…” Maki was a person of specifics and she had a list. “Girls, gays, empaths, people fighting bigotry, neurodivergents, water protectors,” Maki thought of Rin and giggled, “furries, us, our friends, the world.”

“Maki-chan will do great things.”

“Once I’m 30.”

Nico Yazawa considered. This was so new and 14 years from now, when Maki was a doctor and her trust vested, seemed as distant as the nearest star Nico could see. But Nico knew naming goals was the first step to achieving them, even if it seemed a wild fantasy.

“Nico will be there.” Not flashy, just quiet determination.

Nico heard Maki gulp. She was probably tearing up and couldn’t speak. Nico didn’t really expect her too. Sharing was such a new trust. But Maki’s hand carefully kept precise palm to palm contact with Nico’s. That said everything.

“Marry Nico.”

Maki sighed. “No one can know.”

“Okay.”

YAZAWA NICO FINISHES FIRST INTERNATIONAL TOUR WITH SPRING SPLASH IN HONOLULU

NISHIKINO MAKI BEGINS RONIN YEAR SOLO WORLD TOUR SURFING IN MAUI

Sunrise. Quiet beach. Her own choices. Is this what contentment felt like, Maki wondered. Finally, moments of quiet to listen for the important things. Leaning against her duffle and board, dressed in a striped rash guard, bright lavender board shorts, and a faded denim “You Are On Native Land” cap, Maki stretched, watching the horizon as a lone speck appeared in the distance, jogging toward her, not actually growing much as the distance closed, Maki thought with a private grin. Nico, running in an oversized hoodie and bikini bottom, gasped dramatically, reaching a hand for the water bottle Maki held out as a lure.

“Still running 5Ks every morning?”

“10K when I don’t have a concert or rehearsal. Nico is a boss.”

“Umi would be proud.”

Nico dropped and did ten fast pushups in the sand next to Maki, “Not if Nico told her it was only to make girls swoon.”

“Girls?” Maki arched an eyebrow, hand sweeping through her hair.

“Girl.”

“Fiancee.”

Nico laughed, rolling toward Maki, pulling her down into a playful, sandy kiss. “Ready to upgrade to trophy wife?”

“Yes.”

But there was no hurry that morning. Both had put their other lives on multiple 15 plus hour flights and fallen briefly off the grid to sit side by side on this hidden beach, the tide surging, a rare treasured morning to share.

“Went to the symphony last night. Monica Mancini sang, Henry Mancini’s daughter,” Nico hummed the Pink Panther theme, “Nice voice, more your thing than Nico’s though. She sang a lot of Johnny Mercer. And some new stuff. Nico was taking notes.”

“You’re great on stage Nico-chan, but I guess you can always learn from other performers.”

“Nico is learning songwriting.”

Maki pushed against Nico, “Going to try to get me to put Nico Nico Ni to music again.”

Nico’s mood turned serious, “I miss watching you play.”

“I miss playing.”

“When Nico gets her penthouse, there will be a baby grand.” Nico let her hand settle on Maki’s, “Working with a portable keyboard now. And Umi’s giving me advice, so many books...I’m so busy reading, there’s no time to party.”

“Good.”

“Hey, do you have any plans tomorrow night?”

Nico stared at Maki for a moment, but there was only earnestness in the amethyst staring back, “Not since you got here.”

“I’ve been talking with some of the elders, volunteering on Maui, learning about healing plants, and aloha ‘āina.”

“What’s that?”

“It’s really cool. I’m going to get Papa to invite some of the teachers and doctors I’ve met to give seminars for us. Aloha ‘āina means so many things, but it’s mostly being determined to take care of each other by taking care of the land. It’s very land based and tradition based, here in Hawai’i,” Maki picked up a handful of sand, “but it’s caring and not soft...exactly...when you meet Kai, he’ll explain it better. We’ve been invited for dinner, his uncle plays the ohe hano ihu.”

“What’s that?”

“ A nose flute, not for big concerts, more personal...Kai says his uncle has so many stories about it being used in courting rituals.”

“Is Maki-chan taking notes?”

“Maybe.” Ah, Maki’s sexy, best musician in the world grin. Nico missed that one a lot on the road. A killer cute band was no replacement for the brilliant, lovely pianist who’d so boldly wrapped Nico’s heart in music.

They were in the teasing phase now. “Do you have to keep courting a cute girl after marriage?”

Maki shoved into Nico again, “Well, duh…”

Joint laughter, rolling out to meet the tide.

“We’re getting married.” Maki said quietly.

“Just need to take our passports to pick up the license and go to the shrine. We filled out everything else online.” Nico glanced at her bare legs, “And Nico brought a kimono. Although Maki-chan looks sporty cute just like she is.”

Maki had a far off look, not paying much attention to Nico. Happy to wait ‘til Maki drifted back to the beach, Nico was going to enjoy memorizing her favorite scenery, Maki’s beautifully expressive face, now relaxed and open, thoughts waves and clouds in constant motion. Nico knew the solitude here allowed Maki to relax, there was no family pressure, their phones were off, nothing on either of their schedules for at least the rest of the week. A rare moment to sit with each other, sharing this beauty.

NISHIKINO REAL ESTATE GROUP BUYS LARGE LUXURY TOWER NEAR NISHIKINO MEDICAL CENTER

SUPERSTAR REFUSES TO GIVE UP PENTHOUSE APARTMENT TO NISHIKINO HEIR

Fast food. School girls lingering from Otonokizaka. Two people shoved into the booth furthest from the door and windows, sitting on the same bench, hip to hip, back to the rest of the room.

“So many memories in this place.” Nico unwrapped her burger.

“So many french fries.” Maki dipped a sample french fry in her chocolate milkshake.

“Another meal Nico paid for. You got rich not paying for food.”

“Hey! You were too proud to let me pay.”

“Nico is still too proud.” Nico tapped her fingers on the table. This late afternoon, for this clandestine meeting, they’d allowed themselves the indulgence of wearing their braided gold and platinum wedding band, Maki added the simple diamond Nico had bought her for their engagement.

“Is this going to work? Us actually living this close together without rumors starting?” Maki had been worrying. So many comments in the press and on social media.

“Everyone already has us at war. Nico’s a selfish poser, Maki’s a spoiled brat. Enemies to lovers.”

“Not funny, Nico-chan.”

“Nico will throw a huge party before I leave on my next tour. My new landlord will threaten very publically to throw me out of the building. Everything will flare up, but Maki-chan will continue to do boring future doctor things and by the time Nico gets back, all anyone will be talking about is Nico’s new album.”

“They’re not boring future doctor things.”

“No, they’re smart, saving the world future doctor things and Nico is so proud.” A quick kiss on Maki’s palm.

“Meanwhile…”

“Meanwhile, Umi and Eli install a secret hatch above the decorative staircase centerpiece of your expensively designed main room.”

“I’m going to miss you, Nico-chan.” Sadness.

Time to change the mood. Nico dipped a french fry in her strawberry shake and fed it to Maki. “How’s studying going?”

Maki leaned, chin in hand, frowny. “I could be more motivated.”

“So B?”

“A minus.”

“Nerd.”

“ ‘s dull." Maki said, chewing slowly. "But have to stay on track with the family benchmarks.”

“Yeah.” Nico decided to talk about happier things, “ooohh, did I tell you Eli’s setting up a foundation for Nico as her graduation project. We’ve already donated tickets to queer youth groups in every city on the tour and Nozomi’s setting up mentor programs.”

“Expect a large anonymous donation.”

“Expect a large not so anonymous thank you.”

“I’m just proud that you’re doing things to actually help people. I want to do more.”

“You’re studying to be a doctor, Maki-chan. That’s hard. Nico’s got it easy. All Nico has to do is” Nico went into her signature gesture, “Nico Nico Ni and everything gets brighter.” Nico suddenly remembered she shouldn’t have let her catch phrase out full voice during what was supposed to be a secret meeting, but this was a low traffic period so no one seemed to notice.

“I couldn’t get that out of my head, the first time I saw you do it. It was annoying.”

“But you loved Nico.” Nico snuggled closer, enjoying a chance to feel Maki next to her.

“But I loved Nico, all of Nico, the bold, brash, terrible liar, the kind, caring sister, the determined ally and friend, the hard working and talented performer.”

“Nico wasn’t a liar, Nico was an optimist.”

“Private chef,” Maki cough giggled.

Nico grabbed the french fries as Maki reached for another one, “Confiscated for cheekiness.”

“Give me those.” Maki grabbed, Nico dodged, french fries flew loose and they giggled their way through the next few minutes until Nico leaned forward to whisper in Maki’s ear.

“So are your parents still in New York City?”

Gulping, suddenly completely flustered, Maki nodded.

Nico bounced up, offering a gallant hand, “Nico will walk you home.”

“Fancy.”

“Only the best for Mrs. Yazawa.”

“That would be Mrs. Nishikino.”

“We’ll wrestle. Nico will win.”

“Optimist.”

Nico’s hand on Maki’s waist was a gentle guide into the autumn night, two hats pulled down, two collars pulled up, Nico in a mask to protect her voice. “Wait and see.”

Maki leaned into Nico. This night, unlike too many others recently, felt just right.

HEAD OF THE NISHIKINO MEDICAL GROUP COLLAPSES, HOSPITALIZED

NICO NI NEW YEAR’S CHARITY CONCERT SELLS OUT IN MINUTES

Nico had never been so sick. She’d lost count of the medicines she was taking to sleep at night, and then the additional ones added to get her through tonight’s concert. Then she could rest. Go to her Mama’s house and get babied for a bit. Maki had been so sad at Christmas, with too many family obligations to fly to Los Angeles. Nico had gotten through their Christmas Eve quick chat and then collapsed, barely moving until yesterday’s rehearsal, which wiped her out.

Pounding on her hotel room door. What the hell? Phone pinged, the Maki-tone.

“Open your door, Nico--chan.” Maki sounded angry. Was she pounding? Nico felt even fuzzier, slumping to the door, opening it to fall against a tall, angry Maki, beanie over her hair, sunglasses, and a mask.

“Nico-chan?” Now Maki’s voice sounded tearful.

“Hi, Mrs. Yazawa.” Nico croaked out, hoping to make Maki at least giggle.

Strong arms swept her up, Maki striding across the room, putting Nico gently down on the bed, Maki immediately examining every bottle by Nico’s bedside, “What kind of quack put you on all this?”

“Don’t know.”

“Don’t know? You don’t know.”

“Trainer found ‘em…recommended.”

“You should be in a hospital.” Maki’s voice broke.

“Concert, charity, millions. Nico Nico Ni.” Nico had no idea if what she was saying made sense.

“Cancel. Refund. I’ll make a bigger donation.”

“Nico is a trooper.”

“Nico is a zombie. What the hell kind of irresponsible moron gave you all this?” Maki crashed all the bottles to the floor. “Did they inject you with anything?”

“It’s LA, Maki-chan, the beautiful people never stop.” Nico coughed. It hurt like 50 Umi arrows to the chest, “Nico is a beautiful people.”

“Nico-chan…” Maki was kneeling next to the bed, desperation and weariness lining her face. She’d never travelled well, Nico realized.

Nico managed to flip so she was on her side, managing to smile at Maki, “Hey pretty girl.”

“I am going to sue that quack into despair and destitution.”

Nico blinked, suddenly aware that Maki should be in Tokyo. “Why are you here, Maki-chan?.”

“Hanayo heard a rumor…”

“Did anyone see you?”

“I don’t care.” Maki’s head dropped to the bed, “Papa collapsed...and you’re like this and hiding it from me…and letting some greedy idiot try to kill you...if anything happens to you, Nico-chan…” And the tears, Nico could feel them as she reached for Maki, hot, heavy, rolling off pale cheeks.

“Nico will be fine.”

Maki shook her head.

“Look at me, Maki-chan.”

Maki raised her head. Her eyes were bright. She was always so bright, so caring, her native prickliness a fortification against all the emotions Maki didn’t know how to process.

“I will be fine.”

Maki surged up, her arms drawing in Nico, whose heart was really not rested enough for tackled into bed by the redhead of her dreams. “Maki-chan, you’re going to hug Nico to death.”

“Don’t say that.” Maki’s arm twitched for a minute like she was going to shove Nico away, but then Nico found herself pressed as closely as she’d ever been against a clothed Maki, which would have been amazing if she could breathe. So Nico let a cough out and Maki loosened her hold.

“Let Nico sleep.”

“Okay. But I’m not going anywhere.”

Nico had closed her eyes, muttering, “...love you.”

“I love you too, Nico-chan.”

A-RISE STEPS IN AT LAST MINUTE FOR NICO NI

NISHIKINO MAKI CHECKING OUT STANFORD RESEARCH FACILITIES, POSSIBLE PARTNERSHIP

Nico is officially spoiled. Another morning waking up to Maki curled up by her side...She’d shipped everyone else back to Japan, tour over, a solid break until Nico’s doctor cleared her for rehearsal. Nico sat up, teasing tumbles of red hair, Maki had been very clear that Nico had to clear the steroids out of her system first. But at least Maki hadn’t banned other forms of exercise.

“I’m not asleep, Nico-chan.” Maki mumbled, sounding totally still asleep.

“Thanks for coming to rescue Nico.”

“Don’t make me do it again. I might have to go back to school.”

“I thought you were joining the Board Of Directors ahead of schedule?”

Maki opened her eyes, stretching, “Order pancakes. And bacon. And orange juice. And muffins.”

“Brunch in bed.”

“I’m not leaving until I have to.”

Nico reached down to kiss Maki’s forehead, “It’s been nice having you here.”

“Then come home.”

“Nico is working on it.”

Maki raised an eyebrow. Nico sounded excited. “Is there something I don’t know about?”

“It was supposed to be your Christmas surprise, but Nico’s agent was still negotiating.”

What could Nico’s agent be negotiating that would be a Christmas surprise for Maki?

“I’m going be the main character in a TV drama, based in Tokyo.”

“Really?”

“Really. I didn’t get to be there when your Dad ended up in the hospital and I’m so sorry…I knew you needed me, but...this is our life...” Maki nodded as Nico gestured at the hotel suite, continuing, “And I knew you were going to be super busy with family stuff so I pitched an idea and two production companies jumped on board. Nico is taking a paycut and ownership, but all you’ll have to do is come upstairs and Nico will be right there, at least for six months.”

“Nico-chan…” Maki sat up.

Nico put her arm and pulled Maki in, Maki dropping her head to Nico’s shoulder, “We get through the tough stuff together, Maki-chan. We always have. I love you.”

“Love you.” Maki was falling asleep again. Nico would add coffee to their brunch order. Maki had to be awake enough to sneak out and catch a plane.

YAZAWA NICO TO STAR IN DOCTOR SMILE

DOCTOR NISHIKINO MAKI TAKES OVER FAMILY MEDICAL PRACTICE

If she didn’t have Nico, Maki would probably just live with a grand piano, a huge bathtub, and a couch to eat take out on, Nico thought as she sank into lavender scented steaming water.

“It’s not funny, Rin. And I don’t need weekly updates about who Nico’s kissing on the show.” Maki sounded aggravated. Nico giggled. She’d come home early from a weekend meet the fans event and snuck into Maki’s luxury tub to recover. Candles were lit, Idol music popping.

“Wait a minute, Rin. I think…” Maki’s steps sounded hasty and she was suddenly in the door of the bathroom.

Nico winked. “Hi Maki!”

Maki made a grumbly noise and turned sideways, “No, I’m okay, Rin. There’s just a surprise in my bathtub…” Maki glanced at Nico, “Rin says hi. And you have to stop using my cases, Nico-chan.”

“Did Rin say that? And who says Nico does?”

Maki glared, “Where do you even get your information?”

Nico raised a finger to her lips and winked.

“And that red wig. It’s awful. People think you’re making fun of me.” Maki listened to her phone. “Shut up, Rin.” And the phone went in her coat pocket.

“What did Rin say?”

“Nvermind.” Maki muttered.

“Maki-chan…” Nico splashed at Maki.

“No one would ever call me Dr. Smile.”

Nico guffawed, slapping water everywhere. “I miss Rin.”

“If I had Umi’s bow, I wouldn’t.”

“You love her.” Nico leaned back, watching her wife, who had flopped on the nearby chaise. “So who thinks Nico is making fun of you?”

“Papa.”

“PFfffffff…who cares.”

Maki glared, ‘“We’re trying to keep his stress levels low.”

“Red headed doctors are the best.”

“But I like your hair; it looks like you.”

“But our daughter will look like Dr. Smile.”

That threw Maki’s train of thought completely askew. The closest she could get was imagining Cotaro when she first met him with bright red hair.

“I wonder if our children will look like you? All your siblings do.”

“And they’re cute. But our children will be NicoMaki cute. I’ve seen your baby pictures, you were adorable.” Nico leaned back, smiling up at Maki. “Nico can’t wait to have a family to come home to.”

“You have me.”

“And I love it.” Nico blew lavender scented bubbles at Maki, “But you, me, the cutest children ever in the universe, and Christmas morning.”

Maki couldn’t keep the huge grin back. “I can tell them all about Santa-san.”

“But we’re not spoiling them too much.”

Maki pouted at Nico.

Nico giggled, “That’s what our parents will do.”

Maki got up, taking off her coat, sliding out of her jacket, unbuttoning her shirt halfway and slipping out of her pants. Then she sat on the edge of the tub, feet in the water, toes teasing Nico’s legs. “You’re going to tour less, right.”

“Nico’s not touring now. You’re going to cut down your hours, right, Maki-chan.”

“Just started the search for an Executive Director. And put the LGBTQ+ Health Centers proposal on the fast track.”

Nico leaned over, her chin on Maki’s thigh, “We’ve worked really hard for this.”

“We have.”

“I think Mama knows.”

Maki laughed, “It was that morning she surprised us at breakfast, wasn’t it?”

For once, Nico was the one blushing. “Nico needs…” Nico’s arm slipped under Maki’s shirt, a casual touch on Maki’s back, “more elegant pajamas for entertaining company.”

“No you don’t.”

“You like it when Nico borrows your shirt.”

“No, I love it when Nico-chan borrows my shirt.”

“Nico loves your pajamas.” Nico’s fingers started tracing patterns.

“Ha!” Keeping her cool with Nico this close had always been impossible so Maki just lowered herself into the water, pausing for a messy, wet kiss, “Let’s skip dinner.”

NISHIKINO MAKI AND YAZAWA NICO: DETAILS OF THEIR WHIRLWIND COURTSHIP AND MARRIAGE

The interviewer leaned forward as Maki ran a hand through her hair. She was relaxed in a light gray Tadashi Shoji corded lace sheath dress, and confidently answered her question, “It was a long day, my eyes were so tired everything was blurry and I got in the wrong elevator. Nico had just gotten pics of the Ayase twins and we started talking about high school.”

“Talking?” Nico snorted, standing behind Maki, hands in the pockets of bright pink Victoria Beckham trousers, the matching blazer falling open, “It was all Nico’s sex appeal. Nico is irresistible.”

Maki leaned her head back, a private smile for Nico, “Nico is irresistible.”

“Is it irresponsible to take so much time off from your responsibilities to take a world tour honeymoon and then start a family?”

Nico chuckled, her hands on Maki’s shoulder, “We’ve planned carefully. And they’re our businesses. Nico never understood people working themselves to death, not taking time for family. We want to change corporate culture.”

“You’ve always been ambitious, Nico. What’s your next project?”

Nico winked, “That’s just between us.”

“No hints for our viewers, Maki?”

Nico leaned down, arms around Maki’s shoulders, whispering something in her ear. Maki’s full, flaring blush could have been a picture from high school. The interviewer laughed.

“Nice to see you two worked out the Penthouse Wars.”

“Nico is a reasonable person.”

Maki threw back her head, laughing, “Sure, that’s why.”

“Well, Nico is certainly a top…”

“Nico-chan!”

“I love you, Maki-chan.” Giggling, Nico kissed her wife’s cheek.

Nico might have been the only one to hear Maki’s muttered, “I love you, Nico-chan.” But it had always been true.

A/N: Another AU Yeah August request, it started out as Married Rivals, but I was reading a Dolly Parton songwriting book and in the songs about love chapter there were these lyrics from "Between Us":

In our love let's share a friendship between us Always close enough to talk things out Let's be honest with ourselves and each other And our love will never know mistrust or doubt

So I just started writing conversations.

[mythgirlimagines]

After seeing the glowing reputation of the Things That Never Happened talentswaps by the fellow Anons, I decided to try this again! Introducing the hybrid setter-spiker-libero superstar and the Former Ultimate Volleyball Player, Myth!

——————————————————-

BACKSTORY AND TALENT

With two older siblings who had past experience with volleyball, Myth has been taught by her sisters ever since she was little. The constant practice with her older sisters made her a practical powerhouse, by the time she made it to middle school. Her passion for volleyball, despite her diminutive height, drove her to attend Hatohane Girl’s Academy, a high school famous for their prestigious powerhouse of a volleyball team. Within days of attending the club, she proved herself to be a formidable ally and an even more formidable enemy, for she is able to assimilate herself into just about any position on the court, even positions that require height (for she has one of the most impressive verticals, this side of the academy). Her enemies consider her a “wild card”, for she is utterly unpredictable in her gameplay, and you better believe that she wears her title on her sleeve. In fact, she once played against an entire team, while her other teammates are out sick, and she managed to wipe the floor with them. This action alone is what catapulted her into stardom and granted her a spot at Hope’s Peak Academy. In her adult years, she’s working hard at a top-tier professional girl’s team, known as the Sunset Pegasi. But she is currently taking some time off to chaperone this year’s Ultimates and Jr. Ultimates.

——————————————————-

RELATIONSHIPS

Wyre Anon, Former Ultimate Carpenter

Wyre has been Myth’s volleyball teammate ever since middle school (as a wing spiker), and has been her best friend for even longer, thanks to their similar competitive natures, despite Wyre’s wild and expressive personality clashing heavily against Myth’s stoic and disciplined personality. The natural muscles they got from working at thejr father’s carpentry shop really made them a valuable asset in just about any sport they put their mind to, with volleyball being a major favorite of theirs. Imagine Myth and Wyre’s mutual elation, when they both got accepted into Hope’s Peak. Wyre was so elated, that they carved a large wooden sculpture of the two of them holding hands in victory.

Outfit: A purple stripe in her hair that matches Myth, protective orange goggles, an orange and brown flannel shirt, a dark brown leather tool-belt, blue jeans, off-white socks, brown steel-toed boots.

Anon Scar, Ultimate Screenwriter

Famous for screenwriting in both action media and horror media, Scar originally wanted to be an actress, but her natural stage fright meant that she had to settle for behind-the-scenes work. Luckily for her, she proved to be excellent at both sketching out action/horror scenes and writing the very scene out, making her the mastermind behind several recent blockbuster movies. In an attempt to “fake it until she makes it”, Scar tries to project the personality of her favorite archetypes: “The Dark Lord of Script”. But as Myth very quickly figured out, she’s not doing a particularly good job of it, for when she shows concern for her conmates (which is all the time, by the way), her true personality resurfaces.

Outfit: A black and white striped sweater, a purple and red vampire cape, a matching long skirt, stockings, boots and gloves from original design.

Fusion Anon, Ultimate Linguist

As a child, Fusion showed a surprising aptitude and interest in the countries of the world, with their languages and their food being what he mainly specializes in. Fusion’s parents quickly signed him up for language courses, and time after time, Fusion picked up the languages left and right. As of his acceptance, Fusion can speak ten languages on a conversational level, and can read and write in twice as many languages. Fusion is currently running a foreign language tutoring business, and even holds seminars at the Kibo-Con for the other Ultimates. Myth thinks that Fusion’s seminars would be a valuable asset, for when she’s playing against international teams, so her attendance is perfect.

Outfit: A grey bomber jacket with country flags lining his sleeves, black fingerless gloves, red and white sneakers, glasses, undershirt and pants from his original design.

Fusion Anon II, Ultimate Hiker

Famous for besting mountains many people claim to be impossible, the numerous selfies that Fusion II takes of her travels all prove her claims that she bested the tallest of mountains, all with the signature smirk on her face. But despite the confidence and charisma she carries in her selfies, she actually has a massive nerdy side that she would much rather keep hidden. Myth found it confusing on how two Anons could share the same name, but based on the father-daughter behavior that occurs between the two Fusions, Myth has a hypothesis made. That being said, Myth shows respect for her kohai, and will always be there to boost up Fusion II’s ego, whenever she’s feeling down.

Outfit: Diamond-crusted sunglasses, a light blue parka with white fluff and matching winter gloves, brown cargo pants, matching steel-toed boots.

Just Anon, Ultimate Tree Climber

Originally climbing trees to escape teachers and other bothersome individuals, Janon was eventually nicknamed “Chameleon”, for his extraordinary skills in climbing up and camouflaging himself in the trees. While Myth normally has an inhuman amount of patience regarding more defiant and disrespectful underclassmen, Janon’s blatant disrespect towards his all his senpais (apart from the gardener), makes her want to spike a volleyball directly into his face. But upon seeing Janon interact with and actually showing affection and respect towards his kohais, Myth gained a newfound respect for Janon, that she never thought she would gain. If only Janon could start respecting his senpais.

Outfit: A camo-colored army helmet and matching hoodie, brown pants and black boots.

Sparkle Anon, Former Ultimate Sprinter

With a bombastic, loud, and flashy appearance and the personality to match, it’s very hard to miss the appearance of Sparkle, when she is on the racing track. Sparkle is particularly known across the internet for sprinting in ridiculous costumes, in order to assist charities across the world. Myth was happy, upon finding out that she would be accompanied in her chaperoning by a fellow athlete, even if their personalities are like oil and water. They regularly meet in the Kibo-Con gym to exercise, while exchanging fitness plans and mutually fangirling over each other, for they’ve both seen each other‘s competitions, and are impressed by what they’ve seen from each other. 

Outfit: Hair in a bob being held by a red and white headband, a red and white sparkling tank-top with her name on the front and blue sparkly shorts, long white socks, and shoes that match her tank-top, a black and white checkered flag slung over her shoulders like a cape.

Egg Anon, Former Ultimate Gardener, and Wet Sock Anon, Former Ultimate Liar

Famous for managing one of the largest and most breathtakingly gorgeous botanical masterpieces ever known to man, Egg was introduced to Myth as an only child. But what Myth doesn’t know, is that, in interviews, Egg pulls the classic “twin-switch” trick and has their twin Wet Sock masquerade as them, while blowing up their reputation with lies of commission and omission. Even in their stay at the Kibo-Con, the duo regularly intact the twin switch to such an extent that most Anons didn’t even know of Wet Sock’s existence (apart from Eldritch, but nobody believes him, because, well, he’s Eldritch), and passing off the times Wet Sock’s been seen out of costume as morning-induced delirium.

Outfit: A straw hat, a yellow and green flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up, blue jeans with dirty knees and green gloves and matching rain boots

Curious Anon, Jr. Ultimate Finder

After their classmates realized that Curious had an excellent eye for details and a helpful and altruistic spirit, they quickly used Curious like their personal finder for lost objects. Eventually, Curious got paid to help people from all around their hometown find lost objects, pets, and even people. Myth has quite the watchful eye, so she barely, if ever, needs Curious’s help in finding objects that she happened to misplace. But she is willing to misplace objects on purpose, if it means getting a smile and a look of pride and accomplishment on the face of her kohai. Curious reminds Myth of some of her kohais: desperate for praise and lives for validation. 

Outfit: A black gakuran with a magnified glass clipped to their belt and a matching hat and shoes.

Anon Nerd, Former Ultimate Sharpshooter

With an unparalleled bullseye streak and temper issues of an equally unparalleled caliber, Anon Nerd is a name to be feared in competitions, and for good reasons, considering Nerd’s volcanic temper and sheer skill at shooting targets despite that. If someone even slightly wrongs him, they risk getting shot with one of his prized rifles. Considering Myth’s stoic and composed attitude and Nerd being the complete opposite, one would think that they would never get along. But, shockingly enough, Nerd considers Myth to be the only one (apart from the other Brain Cells), to not be a complete and utter dolt. They regularly like testing their accuracy in each other’s sports, with Myth faring better at shooting.

Outfit: A brown and dark green bomber jacket, red tinted sunglasses, blue jeans, brown sneakers, a red rifle strapped to his back.

Eldritch Anon, Ultimate Tattoo Artist

Growing up in one of the seediest underground communities, rife with scum and villainy, Eldritch is famed all around town for his skill in tattooing the people of his town with anti-government and pro-anarchy tattoos on visible parts of their body, as protest to the government that put them in this horrible condition in the first place. Eldritch can’t trust anybody who doesn’t have a special tattoo inked by Eldritch himself, up to and included his own conmates. He especially can’t trust Myth and her stoic and unpredictable demeanor. The thought of one of her kohais being scared of her brings Myth to internal tears. Myth is currently attempted (unsuccessful) senpai-kohai trust exercises.

Outfit: Hair being completely shaved on the right side, black eyeshadow, a black sleeveless hoodie that shows off his various anti-government tattoos, blue jeans and knee-high black boots.

Dream Anon, Ultimate Confidant

Known around her school as the most trustworthy girl her schoolmates know, Dream organized a secret room in the school, in case any of her classmates need to talk about their secrets and vent to an optimistic and loving role model figure. Ever since Dream met Myth, her idol in athletics, she knew that her senpai had common ground with her, for they both share a passion for volleyball and show endless support to each other. Besides, Dream always wanted to crack the tough nut and unpredictable beast that is the Iron Wall of Hatohane. Surely, someone as stoic and unmovable as Myth must have some secrets and she’ll always be there to support her senpai in a rough patch.

Outfit: A dark grey ski cap with heart pins on it, a pink and grey hoodie over a black shirt with a red heart on the front, shorts, socks and shoes from her original design.

Iris Anon, Jr. Ultimate Surfer

As the daughter of two parents who own the local beach house, Iris has been living by the ocean ever since she was little, and she has efficiently mastered the art of catching the biggest and most gnarly of waves, earning her the attention of entire fleets of preteen ladies, which is also helped by her adorable personality and her adoration of marine biology. Iris’s passionate and optimistic attitude reminds Myth of some of her younger kohais and for that reason, Myth attached herself to the cheery water-lover. Being a fellow athlete helps matters. Myth also introduced Iris to beach volleyball, and Iris was more or less a complete natural. Needless to say, Myth was impressed at her kohai taking on her craft.

Outfit: Hair tied into rings, pink swim goggles, a pink swimsuit top, a galaxy printed sarong around a matching pink swimsuit bottom, galaxy printed flipflops.

Purple Anon, Ultimate Emergency Planner

As the daughter of only the biggest CEOs in the entire nation, Purple learned of the dangers that many people in the large and cramped offices face on a daily basis. From there, Purple knew that she had to take matters into her own hands, and begin stocking up and preparing for every work emergency under the sun, whether that’ll be economic or physical. These duties instilled her with a timid attitude and a natural motherly instinct, and of course, that’ll extend to her conmates and chaperones. Every time Myth gets injuries on or off the court, Purple would always be right behind her, with her medical kit in tow, as well as a healthy (if needlessly verbose) reminder to not overwork herself. 

Outfit: An off-white hard hat, a black safety vest over a purple sweater, a black and white striped skirt with a fully-stocked emergency belt, purple stockings, black boots.

This series would center around everyone getting to know the stoic iron wall, who secretly has a soft spot for all of her dorky kohai.

——————————————————-

PERSONALITY

Volleyball!Myth is known by her opponents as an utterly unpredictable beast, but to her teammates, she is heavily supportive and kind-hearted, despite her quiet and stoic demeanor, which clashes heavily against her more loud and flashy appearance. She has a particular soft spot for her kohais, and loves it when people show respect and look up to her. In a height-dominant sport like volleyball, Volleyball!Myth used to have hangups regarding her height, but constant support from her family and middle school teammates gave her the much-needed confidence boost to strut onto the court in all of her 5 FT 3 IN glory. Volleyball!Myth is surprisingly hard on herself, for she spends practically all of her time practicing, claiming that she still has room for improvement and needs to push herself even harder. Only her childhood friend Carpenter!Wyre can convince her to chill out and take a break for once. 

——————————————————-

APPEARANCE

Volleyball!Myth wears her natural brown hair in a ponytail with a purple skunk stripe down the middle and also wears black sports glasses. Volleyball!Myth simply wears the uniform of the Sunset Pegasi, which consists of the following: a blue jacket over an orange jersey with a yellow sun design and a big number “6” on the front, shorts that match her jersey and red shoes with white soles and laces.

——————————————————-

Luckily, I was able to use all of my Haikyuu knowledge to help write Myth. In Haikyuu terms, Myth is like a mix between Nishinoya, Aone, Ushijima and Tendou (with Hinata’s height and vertical). I hope that you like this swap, and I’d love to hear what the others think of it!

-Fusion Anon

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

kiss me in the d-a-r-k .epilogue ii.

the weekend

masterlist

Warnings: dub con sex (oral, intercourse)

This is dark!(dad)Steve and explicit. 18+ only.

Summary: The reader meets Steve again.

Note: Okay, I kept going and here is the next part. I’m sorry if the following one doesn’t post as soon but I dunno. I’m feeling it. You’re feeling it. I’m the fic daddy over here giving you what your need so here you go! I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply!

...

Steve drove you home. It was past midnight and you were exhausted. He offered for you to stay the night but that seemed too much. You were glad you lived alone in the cramped bachelor. Your summer of work paid off your rent in advance. It was meagre but affordable and close to campus.

He kissed you goodbye. Hungrily. You imagined that if you spent the night in his suite, he'd not have let you sleep long. His stamina was surprising. You thought older men were supposed to be tamer. You bid him a quick goodbye and he idled outside your building until the door closed behind you.

You laid awake for an hour. You could feel him still. When you finally closed your eyes, you saw him in your dreams. It felt almost as good as the real thing. You woke in a sweat and the autumn clouds set grey shadows across your apartment. The kitchen, bedroom, and living all shared the same open space. It looked so dreary in the dim chill and after your evening in Steve’s lux suite.

You dragged yourself to the shower. You let the hot water wash away the filth and shame. Steve was in your head again. You thought of the summer. The night he’d removed your bathing suit and touched you; the first time he’d tasted you; the last night when he’d taken it all. Your fingers were between your legs as you snapped back to reality and the steam blurred your vision.

You stepped out onto the tile and sat for a moment as you gathered yourself. You had a long day of studying ahead of you. The scent of old paper and stale coffee in the uni library would help you focus. A typical weekend bent over a table full of textbooks and notes as Kylie pestered you to come over.

You stopped by the campus cafe on your way to the library and headed to the top floor where the tables were often empty. You parked yourself at one in the furthest corner and strategically set out your laptop, phone, and books. You rubbed your eyes and sipped from your latte as you started your weekly readings.

An hour, maybe two before you drew your eyes from the cramped text. You yawned and grabbed your phone as your stomach growled. Your half-toasted bagel had barely been enough. Your screen showed the usual texts from Kylie and the school emails piled up in your inbox. Another name flashed across the screen; well, a single letter as his moniker: ‘S’. Keying in Steve’s full name had seemed more sinful than your little tryst.

‘Meet me at the Beer Garden. 6pm.’ As always, to the point and more than just a request.

‘I’m studying for midterms.’ You replied.

‘All day? I know you’re probably nose deep in those books already, sweetie.’

‘7’ You replied.

‘That works.’ He accepted and you replaced your phone on the desk.

You were hoping he’d forget about you for the rest of the week. He said he had business and a friend he wanted to see. For a moment, you’d wondered if this friend was another woman but the worry quickly faded. You didn’t care if he had another woman, this was just sex. Easier to keep it that way considering. With another to keep his attention, you’d not be the centre of it. Maybe this thing would die quick enough that you’d both forget and you’d have nothing to hide from Kylie.

-

You stepped off the subway and rushed through the tunnels. You hated the underground. It was eerie and claustrophobic. Above ground, you checked your phone and stared at the map as it pointed you in the opposite direction. You didn’t travel far from the university and catching the right train had been enough of a chore to have you overwhelmed.

The Beer Garden was upscale and above your pay rate, which at the moment consisted of scholarship money and inconsistent cheques for amateur online articles. You entered the tinted glass doors and looked around the bar with dread. You checked your phone, you were right on time.

Your heart froze as you spotted Steve across the bar. You smiled at him as he looked up and saw you. As you stood dumbly in place, another ambled into you as they emerged from the hallway marked ‘restrooms’. You looked over at the man and gasped. Your heart sank as you stared up at him.

“Hello,” He steadied you with a hand on your arm. “Funny to bump into your here. Quite literally it seems.”

“I, uh, yeah,” You stuttered like an idiot. “I was just...meeting a friend here.”

“Oh, me too,” He smiled. “What are the odds?”

“Yeah, well, I don’t see my friend,” You said. “So I guess I’ll just wait outside.”

“Outside? Why don’t you join us for a drink while you wait?” He asked.

“Us?” You frowned. “Who are you--?”

“My friend,” He supplied, “Don’t worry, you’ll like him. And we don’t bite. We’re too old for that.”

“I dunno,” You wrung your hands and glanced over at Steve who watched you curiously. “Okay. One drink.”

“Great.” He turned and waved you along. “Just over here.” He led you across the bar and your nerves began to storm as you got closer and closer to Steve. When Professor Barnes stopped you at the same table, your head swelled in panic. “This is my friend, Steve. Steve this is Y/N. She’s one of my students.”

“Oh, nice to meet you,” Steve reached out cordially and offered his hand. You shook it and he smirked. “I can’t imagine having this know-it-all as my professor. You’re a brave one.”

“I couldn’t handle you as a student,” Barnes replied shortly.

“Heh, yeah,” You climbed up on a stool, “Professor Barnes isn’t too bad. I’ve had worse.”

“You can call me Bucky here,” He corrected you, “This isn’t a seminar.”

“Okay,” You smiled nervously as he waved over your head and a waiter appeared at the table. 

“We’ll take a pitcher for the table. And another glass.” He ordered and the server went quickly to retrieve it.

“I...I’m not of age yet,” You said shyly.

“They won’t card you here, don’t worry.” Bucky flicked away your complaint. “You good for another round, Steve?”

“More than,” Steve assured him and his eyes peeked over at you. “So, are you failing or is he actually being reasonable these days?”

“She’s one of my best students,” Bucky retorted. “Don’t listen to him. He does this. He thinks he’s more successful than me because he lives out in the suburbs.”

“I know I’m better than you,” Steve returned and the waiter came back to set the pitcher and extra glass on the table. “Your stuffy little office and dozen degrees don’t mean anything.”

You laughed awkwardly as Bucky filled each glass and shook his head. “I don’t mind his class. Even if it is on Friday.”

“Ah, yes, I forgot the uni girls all love their weekends.” He pushed the third glass towards you. “And yet here you are with us geezers on your Saturday night.”

“There is wisdom in years,” You jibed, “As questionable as the source may be.”

Bucky chortled and took a drink. Steve chuckled under his breath and tilted his head as he considered you. You could see the thoughts behind his blue eyes as he glanced between the two of you. You stifled your nerves with a mouthful of beer. It was going to be a long night. If not disastrous.

-

You were done your drink. In fact, you were on your second. The night had worn on and you checked your phone. Two hours! You glanced over at Steve but he was distracted by whatever Bucky was saying. You found it hard to keep track as you tried to balance the two of them. Tried to keep boundaries with your professor and hide your secret crush from the man you were fucking.

“So what about that friend of yours?” You were startled by the question. You blinked and looked at your phone again.

“I...It looks like they’re not gonna make it,” You gave an exaggerated sigh. “It’s happened before. It’s whatever.”

“Aw, damn,” He frowned. His laugh lines showed beneath his thick beard and you couldn’t help but admire the way his blue eyes sparkled. “Well, at least you got to waste your time with us.”

“Uh, yeah, well,” You tapped your half-empty glass with your fingernail. “I think maybe I should just call it a night. I’ll have it out with my flaky friend tomorrow.”

“Finish your drink first.” Bucky said. “Might as well. Oh, you need a ride?”

“Oh, it’s cool. I don’t live too far and pass is subsidized through tuition.” You shrugged. “Really, I’m fine.”

“Alright, just be safe.” He warned. “Oh and don’t forget about Monday.”

“I won’t.” You promised as you drain the last dregs of your beer. You stood and pulled your jacket on. “Looking forward to it actually.”

“Monday?” Steve wondered.

“Writing workshop,” He explained. “A little extra experience for the students and some useful knowledge on how publishing actually works.”

“Oh, that nerd stuff,” Steve kidded and turned to you. “Well, it was nice meeting you. Good luck with this one.”

“Yeah, thanks,” You gulped. “Have a good night.”

“You sure you don’t need a ride?” Bucky asked.

“You sure you don’t? You’ve had your fair share.” You returned.

“Cab fare then?”

“I’m good,” You assured him one last time. “See ya Monday.”

You skirted away before they could suck you back in. They both seemed all too eager to keep you out all night. Steve didn’t surprise you but Bucky did. Rather, Professor Barnes. Always a laidback professor but you didn’t think him that friendly. You wondered how the odds had stacked up against you. The two of them; friends. Fate surely favoured you.

As you stepped out into the brisk evening, your bag vibrated and you stopped to check it. ‘Hotel. Lobby. Twenty minutes.’ You glanced back at the bar doors and texted your acquiescence. It’d take at least that to get over there on the subway. You wondered if Steve could beat you there.

He did. When you arrived he was in the lobby on a long leather chaise. He sat patiently. His eyes found you as you walked in and he stood to greet you. He held his jacket over his arm and held out his other hand for you to take. He pulled you to him and kissed you. His arm wrapped around you and you struggled to part from him.

“Steve…” You looked around. “Not here.”

“How many people do you know in the city, hmm? No one even cares.” He lowered his arm and squeezed your ass. “Let’s go before I lose all my self-control.”

He guided you to the elevator. His hand never left your ass despite your wriggling. He was warm against you and the beer made him irresistible. You leaned into him and your bag hung heavily from your arm. He led you down the hall and swiped his card at his door. He nudged you ahead of him and the door shut with a snap behind him.

“That whole time we were sitting there, I couldn’t stop thinking about your ass. About everything I wanna do to you.” He snarled. “Sweetie, you’re driving me wild.” He rubbed the front of his pants. “I need you naked. Now.” 

You complied almost instantaneously. You wanted him too. Wanted to feel the same electricity as before. You were tired of denying yourself. Of burying that urge that grew so overwhelming as you fingered yourself in your bed. Your jacket was thrown over a chair, your shirt, pants, and underwear followed. Your shoes and socks littered the floor beneath and you stood before him expectantly. 

“Jesus,” He inhaled deeply and unbuckled his pants. “Will you treat me nice, sweetie?”

You neared him as he undid his fly and ran you hand over his crotch. He groaned and let his pants fall open. You rubbed him through his briefs and he shuddered. He played with your hair and caressed your arm as he watched you. You dragged you fingers tantalizingly along his cock and relished the noises it drew from him.

You pushed his briefs down past his cock and got to your knees. You had only done it that one time. You were almost intimidated as you knelt down before him and he gripped the base of his cock. He bent his knees as you wrapped your fingers around his shaft just above his own. He let go and you flicked his tip with your tongue.

“Do you remember what I taught you, sweetie?” He purred and tickled along your cheek. “Just relax. Take it slow.”

You swirled your tongue around his tip and he twitched. You repeated the motion and he hissed. You stretched your lips around him and tasted his salty precum. His hands went to the side of your head and rested there lightly. He groaned as you took him deeper and pressed your tongue along his length.

You did your best not to gag as you pushed past your reflex. You still couldn’t take all of him and pulled back slowly so that your saliva coated his cock. Your hand followed your mouth and you did it again; again; again. Faster each time; hungrier. You’d never expected to like it so much and each stroke had you wanting more.

His thick breaths floated in your ears and you looked up at him. He was watching you intently, his blue eyes intent; hot. His fingers spread along the back of your head and he pulled you off him. He smiled at the small pop as his cock fell out of your mouth.

“Sweetie, you keep that up and I’m gonna cum already,” He purred. “Stand up.” 

He tugged on your hand until you were on your feet. You were almost dizzy; the mixture of lust and beer had you wild.

“On the bed.” He directed. “Tell me how you want it.”

You blinked at him and pouted. “I don’t...I don’t know.”

“Go on. Show me what you want.”

You clamped your lips shut and turned to look at the bed. As you edged away from him you heard the rustle of his clothing. You peeked back at him as he unbuttoned his shirt. He nodded for you to continue.

You stepped up to the bed and touched the mattress. The first night you were together, you’d mostly been on your back. He used his mouth more than his cock. There was so much left undone. Perhaps that was why you were here now. 

You climbed up on all fours and glanced back over your shoulder. His eyes sparked as he freed himself from his pants. You wiggled your ass and he grinned. You turned back as he stepped towards you and the city winked at you through the tall windows. The distant traffic and street lights so far away.

His hands surprised you as they gripped your hips and crawled down the back of your thighs. His hot breath was even more surprising and you looked back again. He was on his knees as he grabbed your ass. He leaned in and his cool tongue dipped between your warm folds. You gasped and your head spun back around. You closed your eyes and pushed your head back.

You moaned, a long relieved moan as he licked you. He played with your clit and sucked at it. His teeth tenderly grazed you and he drank you in. You grasped at the blankets and arched your back.

“S-S-Steve,” You came with a sultry stammer and he carried you through it with his mouth. “Oh, oh, oh god.”

“Yea, sweetie,” He parted and stood. “You want me to fuck you like this?” He slapped your ass.

“Yes, yes,” You were surprised by your desperate plea. You needed it more than ever. “Please.”

His hands were on your hips again. He held you steady and his cock poked your folds as he lined himself up. He plunged into you in a single motion. You squeaked at the sudden intrusion. It sent an overwhelming wave through you. His fingers kneaded your flesh as he started to thrust.

“Mmm, you’re so good, sweetie.” He brought his pelvis flush against you and you whimpered. You were so full. “Can you feel that? How tight you are. How good you feel around me.”

“Yesss,” You said breathily and dropped down to your elbows. You hung your head as he pulled back and kept his pace steady. You could hear how your walls longed for him; how they tried to cling to him. 

“Tell me what you want, sweetie? How do you want it?”

“Faster,” You said without thinking. “Harder.” 

You leaned into him and he impaled you. He sped up and you let out a delighted cry. His cock hit all the right spots as it filled you over and over. Your muscles tensed as you were drawn to the edge and you plummeted down to your orgasm with a roar.

“Yes, sweetie, that’s it.” He kept his hips moving just as quick. “Tell me where to cum.”

“On my ass. It’s...fine.” You gulped as your breathing turned erratic. “Oh. oh, oh, oh…”

Your chant continued as another orgasm followed. You’d never cum so easily. He pulled out suddenly and a warmth spilled down your ass and thigh. Your thighs quivered as he stroked himself to his peak and you slowly pushed your legs out from beneath you to lay flat.

He fell down beside you as the cum dripped down the side of your leg. He stretched his arm across your back and nestled closed. You turned your head to face him and gave a dopey smile. He smiled back but it was more than the afterglow.

“You wanna fuck him, don’t you?” He asked.

You blinked and shook your head against the mattress. “What?”

“Bucky.” He ran his fingers up your spine. “I can tell you want to. You should. If that’s what you want.”

“He’s my professor.” You stiffened and turned onto your side. You grabbed his arm so that his hand stilled. 

“And? He wants to fuck you too. I know him well enough.” He chuckled. “He doesn’t socialize with students. Not like tonight. And the way he perked up when he ran into you.” He tutted. “He’s a dirty professor. Not that blame him.”

“I’m not going to fuck him,” You insisted and sat up, the cum sticky on your leg.

“Alright,” He said coolly. “Just...if you change your mind, don’t worry about me. I want you to explore yourself. Even if it’s not with me.”

“Please,” You laughed off his suggestion and bent to kiss him, if only to shut him up. “I’ve got enough to worry and not enough time to worry about it.”

[bibbykins]

Scopophilic Affection (M)

Here it is! At last! I have had a rough couple of weeks. My roommate left me and my gf with the rest of the rent without any notice (yikes, I know. Kids, don’t break the lease, it’s shitty) soooo I’m going to plug my ko-fi below. Anything helps and would be greatly appreciated. Either way, donation or not, I hope you thoroughly enjoy and know that my ask box is open!

Genre: Smut/Fluff

Word count: 7.8k

Warnings: Voyeurism, choking, obsessives themes, yandere

Summary: Scopophilia is a more dignified way to define voyeurism, something Seokjin had no intention of partaking in until he came across your live stream. Seokjin is a dignified man, but never in his life had he felt so depraved watching you smile and work like it was his profession, unable to reach through the screen and make you his. Unable to tell you how much he loves to watch you because you have no idea you’re live stream even exists. He can’t tell you how hypnotizing you are without the glaring controversy of him watching your hacked-into webcam, both as a human and director in the computer science division of the company he is a board member of. Nevertheless, you were his very guilty utmost pleasure. 

A beige wall with the blandest accents he’s ever seen with a sketchy cream color. The kitchen appliances were conformity white with rust whispering its way out from under the oven. The toaster was melted on one side and he couldn’t help but wonder how. The microwave was in slightly better shape but the stains seemed to still hold the screams of food from the 1990s. The carpet was somewhere between the beige walls and the mahogany table and looked about as comfortable as sandpaper. 

This would not do at all. 

Even with the personality shining through the subpar living space, it was just not suitable. Not for much longer.

Jin was a man of exquisite taste. This, among his impeccable beauty and breathtaking aura, was some of his best-known traits. He was the sweetest dream everyone on campus would ever have the privilege to even catch a moment of. He was the Director of Software Development within the largest tech company in the country. He came from money and yet made more than enough of his own all while juggling graduate school. Beyond his professional talents, he was a natural virtuoso and musician. With fans from all sides of his life, it would come to no shock that he was a picky man. 

Ever the kindest member of the campus princes, he opted for an aura of stoic professionalism. He exchanged pleasantries and engaged in his fair share of banter with people beyond his close-knit group of Adonis-like men. However, he had a strict limit on how much he could take of people he didn’t care about.

He had everything he wanted and it was nearing time for him broaden his capacity beyond his close family and six friends by just one person. The pool was exceptionally lengthy considering his father’s very own Cinderella story and his parents’ overall good nature. And yet, nobody was fit to be his. Nobody he met even gave him anything to think about beyond their pleasantries. He would not settle for good enough, they had to be perfect. They had to be someone entertaining, someone, without such an evident facade, and even then, someone worthwhile behind that facade. Maybe he had trust issues, or maybe he knew how much one could hide in public.

While a man of exquisite taste, it was also… particular to say the least. Kim Seokjin was not built to marry these nice girls his parents set him up with from time to time, he was built for someone much greater. He had a taste for the more sinister sides that he seldom was able to properly explore with others. Kinky is a word one could use, but he believed adventurous encapsulated his preferences more eloquently. He took pleasure in spoiling someone with all he could offer as they spoiled him with their body. Empty hands begin to ache after some time. He was longing for something to grip other than himself on more irritable nights. He had found previous sexual partners who suited him just fine until they stepped out of the threshold from the bedroom. Vice versa, he had also been on perfectly good dates but with terribly bland sex. 

It was on one of the nights after a mind-numbing date that he threw himself into work whilst listening to the background noise of tech reports. All was fine until there was talk of a hard to reach website that allowed patrons paid access to people who “consented” to 24-hour streams of their lives via laptop and the highest payer owns who can view that particular person. Call it morbid curiosity or his voyeuristic side making an appearance, Jin found himself on the website with ease and scrolling past a ton of stranger’s faces. The teaser clips showed thirty seconds of the past day. 

Jin doubted the website would be up for much longer due to its legal gray area of filming people without informed consent. It seemed the website operated on a one-click user agreement to a couple of separate websites they controlled. It didn’t take a genius to see these people had no idea of their streams. On each profile, it had general demographics, the times that person was in frame, if they ever changed on camera, and even if they performed sexual acts for an audience they had no idea about. Jin felt some remorse as he scrolled from victim to victim, but something happened when he came across a bland beige wall behind an interesting girl.

Sure, he had seen many beautiful women but none of them were shown sitting in front of the camera and so adorably pouting at the camera for the entire thirty-second clip, occasional huffs of irritation coming from your plush lips. It awoke some kind of curiosity he could not understand but wanted to satiate. Were you reading emails? Had you gotten a bad grade? Were you watching a frustrating film?  It seemed you were a college student but spent your nights at home. He figured you worked full time while not at school and used that as an explanation for your socially inactive life but deprived sleep schedule. Against his better judgment, Jin gained full reign over your stream, making it exclusively for him. 

He never quite cared for sharing.

Just like that, there you were, in a large shirt and shorts as you stared at the laptop with a blank face. It went on like this and Jin began to feel silly that he made such a rash move to violate your privacy like this, not to mention the fact that he spent such a grandiose amount of money just to stare at a girl. This was obviously a mistake. He should just turn off his computer- you began to laugh and just like that, Jin was enchanted. Maybe it was the fact that you laughed so wholeheartedly despite being alone or just that you were your true self at this very moment. He had unrestricted access to you like this. He wondered what you were watching. Against his better judgment, he wondered if he could make you laugh like that.

Your phone rang, making you jump ever so slightly. Jin smiled at this, noting how easily startled you were and the way your eyes looked so kind after being broken from the trance your laptop had you in. He found himself holding his breath as you pressed the phone to your ear, waiting to hear how you sound, “Hello?”

You paused the movie you had been watching as you waited for your cousin’s girlfriend, Jaelin, to speak, “Y/n! Where are you?!” The background was loud and she was evidently drunk.

You rolled your eyes, “At home, where else?” This was a common occurrence, and usually, you would not entertain her drunk-dials, but you figured hearing another human’s voice today wouldn’t hurt.

“You should meet me! There’s a ton of parties tonight!” She screamed and you flinched at the volume her mic had to endure.

“I have this screenplay to annotate and I’m leading the stage tricks seminar in a week to practice so…” You trailed off, holding up your finished and annotated screenplay before shrugging.

“People are going to that? Seriously?” You stood corrected by yourself as a sting hit your confidence. This human’s voice was indeed beginning to hurt you.

“Professor Tarbot is having the freshman attend it so, yes, people are going to my seminar, so…” You trailed off as you heard your cousin’s voice in the background, reminding Jaelin that you don’t need to go out before the call went dead, “Lovely.” You muttered before pressing play on the movie. You were always the black sheep of the family. If familial love was kickball, you were absolutely picked last. Despite this, when you moved out as soon as you could to pursue your dreams, your family was appalled that you would leave your own flesh and blood.

Your smile noticeably died with the phone call and Jin couldn’t help but wonder what exactly happened. He missed your smile already. You looked down at your phone for a while before your lip begin to quiver ever so slightly and Jin felt his stomach churn.

“No, no, no.” You fanned your face before looking to the ceiling, “None of that, crybaby.” You cursed before sighing out and looking forward again, “Work on the seminar.”

So, you were a fine arts major of some sort. Jin thought about this as he watched you get ready for bed and eventually fall asleep in front of the laptop you took everywhere. By the end of the night, he had just about a full apartment tour. He shook off this new feeling in his chest before closing his laptop.

The week went on with Jin’s and your nightly routine remaining the same. He did his work, brushed his teeth, and went to bed. Except, he had you playing in the background. You, on the other hand, would write, procrastinate, brush your teeth in the messiest way, and return to either schoolwork or some show before falling asleep, usually at your desk or on your bed in front of your computer.

He certainly was not proud of how you would excite him in ways other women just… couldn’t. It was on one of his more irritable nights that he focused all of his attention on you. You were just watching a movie, nothing too crazy. Even so, Jin’s skin was set ablaze at the way your floral underwear was poking out as you sat on your bed with your knees up. Without fully realizing it, he began palming himself through his sweatpants. 

He groaned out as you spread your knees to sit more comfortably. You leaned back and he could almost make out what your sex looked like. Your underwear was thin, so thin. You would surely soak through them if you let him have you.

“Y/n.” He breathed through clenched teeth as you stretched. You were goggling a little at the movie, taunting him almost. He cursed as his hand sped up, “Fuck, baby.” He moaned and when you simply gasped at something Jin could not see with his eyes screwed shut as he chased his high, he went over the edge. He moaned your name out like a disciple to his savior, like you were his light at the end of it all. The experience itself was nothing less than religious and an absolute breakthrough that Jin had been trying to avoid for a long time.

From then on, Jin had been watching you under a new lens. You were no longer a morbid curiosity of his, you were the object of all this affection he never felt such an immense need to release.

“What’s up, Jae?” You answered the phone after brushing your teeth, putting her on speaker, “A little early to be drinking, no?”

“Y/n, did you hear about the ArtCast scandal?!” You jumped at her volume as you applied your skincare products.

“ArtCast? I haven’t used the site since I signed up, what happened?” Jin tensed, already knowing what the female on the phone call meant.

“Get a new laptop, now!” Jaelin screeched and you looked at your phone with bewilderment, “They have been sharing user info and hacked into laptop cams for creeps to watch on the dark web!”

Jin hardly considered himself a creep. His actions were creepy, but he was not a creep, just a curious soul. He fought the urge to try and reason with you by finding your contact information. Although the idea was scrapped since that would certainly not help his case.

You rolled your eyes at this, “I doubt anyone wants to see me laze around and edit-” 

“THIS IS SERIOUS!” You flinched at this.

“And I seriously don’t have any money to get a whole new laptop and I kinda need my webcam for work so,” You looked dead at the camera, eyes boring into Seokjin’s form, “Hi Mr. Laptop Man, if you have some spare money my PayPal is-”

“WHY DON’T YOU ASK YOUR FAMILY? I’M NOT KIDDING.”

Your eye twitched, “Don’t yell at me.” You seethed, “If they won’t pay for my school or even a meal, what makes you think they would buy me a laptop?” The pain was terribly evident on your face and your lip quivered, “Face it, Jae, you took my place and you feel bad, so that’s the only reason you even talk to me.” 

“Y/n…” Her voice was softer this time and Jin watched a tear fall down your face and felt his heart clench. He didn’t care who your family was, all you would need is him soon enough. 

“And I appreciate it, even if it is pity-based, but don’t pretend like they care about me.” You huffed, wiping your tears, “Mr. Laptop Man must think I’m so dumb.” You scoffed and Jin noticed the way your features twisted from anger to pain and melancholy. There was evidently some deep-rooted pain when it came to your family

You were isolated from them. This past week, Jin gathered that you were eccentric and not afraid to make a fool of yourself or put yourself out there. He now understood it was because your family must have degraded you to such a degree, you eventually began to take it in stride. 

“Y/n, I didn’t mean to…” 

You frowned as Jin wondered why you felt any remorse for this person, “No, I shouldn’t have freaked out like that.” You sighed and glanced at yourself in the mirror and poked at your eye bags, “I’ll catch you later, okay?” You closed your eyes, “Have fun on the trip. Give everyone a hug for me.”

“You could come-”

You clenched your fists against the counter, “Jae… don’t.” You breathed, “I’ll talk to you later.” You quipped before hanging up the phone, “Ugh, I probably sounded like such a bitch.” You combed your fingers through your hair, tugging at the roots slightly before closing your eyes and taking a deep breath. Your fingers slowly uncurled themselves and you robotically placed them at your sides, “No, none of that.”

It was evident that was a coping mechanism, a way to express your pain and insecurity. He imagined it was more than likely much worse before. This made his fist clench. Must he protect from everything, including yourself? 

He scoffed at himself. He didn’t even know where you were in the world. He was lucky that he even understood your native tongue. He was also lucky that you spoke Korean on occasions. This made the odds of you living even remotely near him better, but not definite.

Why was he even doing this? Why was he watching you and fantasizing about you when you had no idea who he was and he had no idea where you were? Suddenly, he felt terribly ridiculous. He had spent every night this past week just watching you without your consent, dreaming about you, and imagining this entire life with you.

With a heavy heart, he waited for you to be out of frame before exiting your stream. He effectively wiped it off the website, he figured it was the least he could do to atone for the hours he spent watching it.

Jin rubbed his hands over his hands in frustration. This sexual and romantic solitude seemed to be really getting to his head. Tomorrow was a new day and he had to seriously consider finding someone as perfect as you and fast. 

Or at least someone who could pretend was as perfect as you for a night.

The next morning went on as usual. He got up, went to work, and finally, attended school. His classes went on and eventually, he was in the courtyard with the same people as always. 

“Dove, would you hand me the water bottle?” Taehyung mused to his girlfriend as he laid his form between her legs as she sat on the table. She handed him the water bottle and he kissed her hand as he retrieved it from her.

Jin rolled his eyes as he sat next to her, “And just when I thought I couldn’t feel any lonelier.” He groaned out.

“It’ll come when you least expect it.” She turned to him with a short giggle, “Tae just swept me off my feet just like that.” She snapped to indicate how sudden.

“It’s all about timing, my friend,” Taehyung spoke blissfully as his girlfriend combed through his hair.

“Yeah, look at my little Odette and I.” Jimin nuzzled into the neck of his girlfriend.

“Not helping the whole loneliness feeling for Jin, babe.” She grunted as she pushed his head away, “But he is right, he found the right time to fuck my brains out and now it’s a forever thing.” Her crude language made Jimin smirk a bit.

“Same boat, Jin.” Yoongi sighed, “We’ll get there.” He spoke before putting his headphones back in.

Jin nodded, used to hearing and seeing the same things. He looked out around the campus before heaving himself off the table, “I’m gonna get a soda, anyone want anything from the vending machine?“ When everyone shook their heads, he headed out onto the path to the Arts building.

It was outside the building that he saw a large gathering of some freshman intro class. He shrugged it off until he heard an eerily familiar voice.

“Okay, so that puts the whole hand through the coke can effect to rest.” Your voice was playful and melodic, “Now, for my final act, pun intended.” Jin whipped his head around as you beamed among the genuinely entertained class, “The infamous stage kiss!” You proclaimed as a rustle came about the crowd, “Yes, mumble, mumble, groan, groan. I know, but it’s a basic skill and as an intro class, you need to know them.” 

Jin didn’t know if he was dreaming or not. Even if he was, he’d like for it to stay that way if it meant you were here. You were more than he imagined. You were all he could ever imagine for this past week. You were right there.

“Now, I need a volunteer.” A myriad of male and female hands went up much too enthusiastically for Jin’s taste. You chuckled, “Flattering, but I need someone above my age.” Hands went down, but not enough, “I will check ID, kids.” All the hands went down, but some unknown force made Jin’s hand go up, “I see one hand back there, so come on up!” You chirped and Jin made his way to the makeshift stage.

He found himself surprised for one of very few times in his life. What the fuck was going on? How were you here and in front of him? Was this even real?

To say your heart fell out of your mouth would be a gross understatement. Kim Seokjin was sauntering up to you, “Well, I don’t think you’re in this class.” You mused softly as he made his way to you.

He gave you a small wink and you would’ve squealed if you didn’t have self-respect, “Y/n, right?” He more so stated as he shook your hand.

You nodded with an evident gulp, “Kim Seokjin, our very own campus prince!” You clapped along with the rest of a suddenly envious class, “Okay so there are a couple ways to do a stage kiss. This can be done a couple different ways.” You explained and turned to Jin, “What is most important, though, is that your partner is comfortable with whatever you decide on, which goes for every aspect of life, my dears.” You winked at the crowd, “Now, are you okay with getting close to my face and me touching your face?” Jin smiled before nodding.

You were clearly in your element and it was mesmerizing. You had a passion for theatre and entertaining a crowd. This would be fine with Jin so long as the world knew it was his hand you’d be taking the moment you stepped off stage. You would give anything to be happy, this included your family’s support.

“Okay, so the typical way is the old fashioned way of covering your partner’s face with yours or vice versa.” You talked animatedly with your hands as your grasped Jin’s wrist and led him to the makeshift wall you had, “You have the regular kabedon way.” You moved to put his hand beside your hand, but Jin took initiative, making you jump, “A-And then the partner, or you, would close in at an angle and…BAM!” You giggled as Jin was brought to a halt leaning in, “A kiss.” You stared at Jin’s face for a while before breaking the spell with a sheepish smile, “Okay, so time is running thin, so, I’ll show you the thumb kiss.” You were so cheerful as you turned to Jin, “Now what you do is slide your hand behind their hair all romantic-like.” You went to bring your hand up to Jin’s face, but he took initiative making you jump as his hand cradled your face ever so softly, “And-uh- place your thumb on their mouth, and tilt ever so slightly, and…” You tilted your head up and Jin took this as the signal to bring his lips to yours softly, internally cursing his own thumb.

“BAM!” Jin chuckled, “A kiss.”

You giggled as you both broke away and Jin basked in the sound, “Alrighty, that’s our time! Thank you for being so responsive!” You beamed as the class dispersed with returning smiles. You turned to Jin, “And thank you, kind sir.” 

“I can be quite the thespian if you want me to.” He was flirting, he was just hoping you knew he was.

“Quit trying to make me blush.” You chided with a playful smile, “It’s a felony to make me flustered, it’s a whole mess.”

Jin felt like this was an out of body experience. He wanted to pinch himself just to make sure he wasn’t dreaming about you as he had this entire week. Everything felt so natural with you. There was no facade or fake laughter. There was just you and him.

“As penance for my crime, I’ll help you clean up.” He smiled as you and you gave him a toothy grin.

He helped you pack up your random props and insisted on giving you a ride home, “There’s no way I’m gonna let you ride the bus with all of this.” Jin was adamant.

“I really don’t live far, it’s why I don’t take my car most of the time.” You tried to reason.

“Which is why it’s no problem for me to drive you.” Jin shot back and you huffed, giving a pout he knew all too well.

“Promise you won’t turn out to be some murderer?” You spoke through puffed out lips that he wished to place his own on.

He smiled warmly at you, “Promise, although my jokes are killer.” 

You burst into a fit of melodious giggles as you shook your head, “Yeah, no way you’re a murderer, dork.”

The walk to his car was filled with stupid jokes and goofy laughing as if you had known each other for years. You basked in the warmth he provided you in such a short amount of time, and yet it far exceeded what your family supplied you. Maybe you didn’t have to get accustomed to loneliness if Jin was around. He made you feel valued, and you had heard he was kind, but you never knew just how kind. Was he like this with everyone? Or could he possibly like someone like you? Even just as a friend. At this rate, anything worked.

With this in mind, you turned to him, “So, are you gonna tell me how you knew who I was?” 

“Well, that’s a loaded question.” Jin sighed out, debating on telling you some semblance of the truth, “Have you heard of the ArtCast scandal?”

“Oh, yeah, the whole thing with- Oh no.” You stopped walking, “Are you telling me that-”

“It’s a long story.” Jin smiled sheepishly at you, “I didn’t see anything intrusive or anything but-”

There was a lot to unpack in that exchange. On one hand, Jin had seen you in your most private area of existence, but you were never quite good at being angry about things. At the end of the day, you felt like it was your fault you were on there and you doubted Jin made a habit of dark web encounters. You reminded yourself he was a computer science major… or was it computer security? You’d really hate to make things awkward by being angry. Even so, were you angry? Were you this starved for a companion?

He stopped when you began laughing, “Man, I need to read User Agreements, that’s embarrassing.” You shrugged and Jin was taken aback by your calmness, “You must think I’m such a dweeb.”

“You’re not… creeped out?” Jin sped up to catch up to you.

You just offered a shrug, “All I do is cry and watch videos, so it’s not a big deal.” You chortled, “No use in dwelling on it, I got enough to dwell on.”

Jin felt a huge weight lift off of his chest as you went along your merry way with him. On one hand, you had no self-preservation skills, but you also had no hatred in your heart for anyone. This was enough to keep him tethered to you, and no longer the idea of you. You were nothing like him with your rose-colored glasses that you viewed the world with. You were much too delicate of a flower to be alone, vulnerable.

“You are one of a kind, y/n.” Jin mused and you felt your face heat.

“As are you, Seokjin.” Jin caught the extra skip in your step, “I’d like to see more of you.”

“And I, you.” Jin winked at you.

—-

When Jin pulled into your apartment complex he shuddered at the architecture, or lack thereof, “Terrible isn’t it?” You hummed.

“It's… not that bad…” Jin gave you an uneasy smile and you rolled your eyes, “Close to campus…”

“Well excuse me, sugar daddy, not all of us can afford a high rise.” You stuck your tongue out at him, but he was too focused on how inviting your mouth looked to him.

“Stick your tongue out like that,” He leaned closer to you in a half-joking manner, “And I’ll bite it.” He threatened, which only furthered your grin and made your nerves come alive.

“Kinky.” You leaned closer to him and suddenly the atmosphere in the car became much heavier with your tone, and Jin went to grasp your chin, the heat that pooled in between your legs when he did so made you gasp softly, “I dig it.” You breathed and that was all it took for Jin’s resolve to break.

Before he could make the move, you smashed your lips onto his. He responded immediately, grabbing the back of your neck to pull you closer. The kiss was everything either of you could have wanted despite how unbelievably sloppy it was. Your tongues soon intertwined and Jin went to your waist to pull you from the passenger seat to his lap. Somehow, you managed to do so despite the difficulty that came with keeping your lips connected while you did so.

“Your lips are so fucking soft.” You hummed against his mouth before going to his neck, “Your skin too.” You smiled against it.

He groaned when you began to shyly suck on top of his jugular, “Fuck, good girl.” He moaned out before you ground your hips against his at the praise. He then grasped the back of your hair, accidentally pulling a little harder than intended to bring your face back to his. He was ready to apologize until you moaned at the sensation, throwing your head back.

“Shit.” You moaned when he placed his plush lips on your neck, sucking hard, “You’re gonna leave a mark-ah!” You bit your lip when he sucked at your sensitive spot.

“Good.” He grunted and you only ground against him harder, “Fuck, you’re really testing me.”

“I live right there.” You panted as he pressed you against him, his hands grabbing at your waist.

“But your stuff.” He noted as he sucked on your neck.

“I’ll get it tomorrow morning?” You spoke softly, more shy, trying to ask him to stay the night without asking, “It’s been ages since I’ve had good dick.” You groaned.

“And why’s that, sweetheart?” Jin was domineering and it made your thighs clench.

“Nobody’s been worth my time.” You smirked as he gripped your hip, much to your delight and you giggled at this, “Okay, maybe that’s a lie and I just want you to think I’m desirable.”

Jin smiled at this as he unlocked his car, “I already desire you, baby.” You shuddered at this. You move to get out of the car, but Jin took the initiative to move the both of you. You should’ve been more embarrassed than you were about your legs being wrapped around a man you had only met properly that day as he carried you into your apartment while whispering the R-Rated version of sweet nothings in your ear.

You handed him the key, and the moment the door shut you were up against the wall in an instant. You weren’t shy about the continuous moans and groans he ripped for your throat with the way his hand cupped your sex and began ministrations. 

Jin reveled in the sound you made, only bolstering the unyielding need he felt for you. He had pictured this moment for so long and here you were, legs wrapped around him as he stumbled from wall to wall to get to your bedroom with one hand inside your panties.

You didn’t even think to ask how he knew where your bedroom was when you passed the threshold because if the way his fingers slipped inside proved to demand your attention more. He laid you down on the bed and you scrambled to your knees to unbuckle his belt as he stood over you. He let out a low groan when your tongue made a stripe along the base. You had to admit that his dick was quite beautiful and thankfully clean. Granted, you’ve seen some nice dick, but he was so well kept and soft and everything you were happy to put your mouth on.

His hand grabbed ahold of your hair and you moaned with your mouth full when he took control of you by tugging your hair. You had always liked it rough, and it was like he was reading your mind. He was fucking your face in no time and your thighs clenched in an attempt to alleviate the ache that only he could satisfy. He eventually pulled you off him and he left your mouth with a satisfying pop. 

He stared down at you, hair messy, drool trailing down your chin, and eyes captivating with a carnal want. The sight could absolutely make him cum if he concentrated hard enough. He gave you a teasing glance as his slender fingers took their time with his shirt and you stripped yourself of the dress you wore in an instant. By the time Jin was in view again, he dove at you, lips attaching to yours. Your eyes fluttered closed as you clutched him closer to your form and you took a moment to appreciate how fit he was. His plush lips trailed down your body while his soft hands reached behind you to remove your bra.

Jin pulled away to sit up and stare at you for a moment. You were under him, chest heaving, mouth open in want, and he looked at your body, breasts beyond what he imagined and he moaned when his hands ran over your body. His hands nearly ripped your underwear down your legs and he studied your pussy like a scholar. His fingers spread you and he groaned at how wet you were. His mouth engulfed you, tongue having ached to taste you for too long and the way you squirmed only spurred him further. He ate you up like a man starved. When his tongue went inside you, you swore you saw God. 

"Jin!” You gasped, body unable to squirm in his firm grip. If you hadn’t been feeling so good, you would swear he was eating you out more for his sake than yours. You couldn’t even form words, only his name would come out of your mouth, and this was only aided when one of his hands went up to squeeze your nipple. His other hand went to stretch you with three fingers as air flooded your lungs in a dizzy of lust, “Fuck me!” You finally gasped out and that was all the prodding he needed.

Next time he would have to make you beg, take his time, drive you mad, but right now, he needed to feel you around him. 

Jin plunged into you and you were immediately fucked out. The pain was delicious and you wanted more. He began to thrust slowly at first until your hips began to spasm, “Harder,” You moaned, “Please fuck me hard.” You begged and something in Jin just snapped.

“Who?” He slammed into you as you groaned in delight, “Who do you want to fuck you hard, hm?”

You took his hand and placed it around your neck, “You, Sir, please.” You batted your eyelashes at him and that was it, “I want you to fuck your cum into me.” He was a weak man for you. This much was solidified when he expertly slammed into you as he squeezed your neck intermittently. Strangled moans came from you until the hand holding his wrist squeezed and Jin let go of your neck to hear you scream for him as you came.

You didn’t disappoint as your back arched and eyes rolled back. The erotic image paired with the way you clenched around him only pushed him over the edge as he came, hips stuttering as you both rode out your respective highs. 

You hardly remember him cleaning you up, what mattered most to you was the way he held you through the night. 

You woke up to an empty bed and sighed out, figuring he was gone. Maybe this is your punishment for never making the guy wait like your mother said to. You huffed as your feet made contact with the floor and you flinched in pain, understandably sore.

You paused when you heard a sizzling. Jin was cooking. He was awfully comfortable in a home he had rarely seen and never been in, right? You stopped yourself for a moment.

You really fucked your hot stalker, didn’t you?

You audibly laughed. Your life was a fucking joke. Were you this desperate for attention to overlook the fact that this man had looked through the lens of your laptop long enough and hard enough to know the layout of your apartment. 

You sure were.

You shook your head in exasperation as you headed out of the room where you encountered Jin in your kitchen, cooking eggs and he gave you a small smile. You returned if despite the conclusion you came to.

You certainly did fuck your insanely hot stalker.

“You know Jin, I don’t think you were completely honest with me earlier.” You mused, not bothering to look at him for a response, “It seems you encountering my little stream wasn’t as casual as you say.”

Jin froze for a moment. You weren’t an idiot. He knew it wouldn’t take you long to organize your thoughts and see the truth. Not that he planned to omit the full truth for long. He had just been hoping you were in love with him before it came out. He could only hope the orgasms brought you at least a quarter of the way there “Why do you think that, baby?” He spoke slowly as he used the plastic spatula to move the yolk.

“Call it a hunch, but I don’t think anyone is that passionate fucking someone they just met.” You spoke listlessly, “I don’t mean to sound vain, but are you obsessed with me?" 

Jin let out a short laugh, "The short answer is yes, but before you kick me out,” He turned the stove off as he placed the cooked eggs on a plate before turning to you, fingertips drumming on the counter, “Why don’t we eat a bit while I make you a proposition?”

The smart answer would be no. The smart choice would be to kick him out, an idea you hadn’t considered until he said it. However, you were known for your charisma much more than your intelligence. With that, you sat down at your table and Jin smiled in relief ever so slightly. It almost made you wonder if he knew you weren’t going to kick him out at all.

“Who am I to say no to free food?” You hummed as Jin opened your silverware drawer without even needing to ask you, almost as if he had obsessively watched you go about your daily life for a week.

He handed you the fork as he sat next to you. You took a bite of the perfectly scrambled eggs because of course, they were perfect. 

He watched you eat with an emotion you hadn’t seen before. He could tell you were confused, and he wanted so badly to tell you it was adoration. The swine you were surrounded by had been to idiotic to appreciate what they had. Even just watching you was a gift nobody deserved.

“So this proposition?” You mumbled as you chewed lightly.

Jin snapped out of his trance, “Ah, yes.” He straightened his posture and rolled his shoulders like a true businessman as you watched his mouth settle into a confident smirk, one slightly different than the one he held whilst holding your legs open mere hours ago. The memory almost made you want to forego the offer and proceed with another round instead. Never in your life had anyone made you feel so wanted, “I would like for you to be my… companion.” He snapped you from your thoughts and considered the word for a moment before speaking again, “I find the word girlfriend to be too casual for what I would like our arrangement to be.”

You shifted a bit in your seat, unsure what the word companion even meant to him, “And what arrangement would that be?” You took another bite, trying to avoid his intimidating aura.

“One of a romantic variety.” You nearly choked on the food, “I suppose the end goal is for you to be my wife.” This time you did choke on the food. Your windpipe had welcomed the egg but Jin was quick to pat you on the back as you coughed, “I was just about to say I’d like to grow old with you, and here you are, almost killing yourself.” He chided as he pushed a cup of water your way and he waited for you to put the cup down before proceeding, “Essentially, I love you, and I’d like for you to commit to being with me and eventually loving me back as we go through life together.”

Your eyes were wide as you looked past Jin, trying to avoid eye contact. Had anyone ever really loved you? Your parents, maybe. However, she was required to by society. Jin had no obligation to feel anything for you and yet here he was, making you food and offering you the love and attention you craved.

You felt your face heat at his nonchalant confession of love and yet your heart was racing at his hand landed on top of yours. Your entire body was buzzing and you couldn’t tell if it was from fear or anticipation, “Well, w-what’s in it for me?” The question was shaky at best. You were willfully confused and unsure why you had been so ready to say yes without even hearing the benefits. 

Jin was evidently amused by your attempt to put on a disinterested front. You had never been a good liar. He loved that about you and thrived on your honesty, “For one, you’ll have a stable and consistent person in your life.” That one stung a bit which is why he wanted to get that out of the way first. He knew how lonely and isolated you were, “You’ll always have my support emotionally, physically, and financially.” You nodded, asking him to go on, “You’ll never have to worry about anything really, I find myself with an aching need to bend to your every whim.” You smiled sheepishly at this, “I can offer you a life of happiness, loyalty, security, and endless love.”

You didn’t realize how hard you had clutched his hand until you breathed out a released Jin from your clutches. He stroked the top of your hand in response, “And what’s required of me?”

Jin squeezed your hand for a moment, “Your love and affection.” He mused, “I want you to commit to being my lover- ah, that’s the word I had been looking for.” He lightly tapped his head, “You make me woefully absentminded.” He chided and you felt your heart flutter, “All you ever have to do is look at only me as far as potential mates go. I can certainly promise to keep you interested.” A smirk played on the edge of his lips as his other hand stroked your knee, “You’re intoxicating and I could very well prove to be your drug of choice as well.” He spoke lowly and you almost shivered, “Your rules, for lack of a better word, would be to love me, and only me, and ideally, work at home for the most part.” This caught your attention, “Your passion seems to lie with screenwriting and editing with a dash of set design, yes?” He hardly waited for you to confirm, “So, you can do most of your work at home as is, on any other endeavors, I’d like to accompany you.” You nodded again, agreeing before your mind was fully made up, “I don’t like the idea of the outside world having free access to you.”

“Go figure, considering the outside world had paid access to me.” You chuckled before taking a breath after seeing Jin’s smile falter, “Anywho, I would be quite a fool to deny you.” You sighed out, “You paint a nice picture, especially to someone as isolated and affection-starved as myself. You seem to have made yourself the skeleton key to all the locked doors I’ve been faced with in my lifetime.” Jin smiled proudly at this, “Yeah, it’s creepy you got off to watching me and are literally obsessed, but if you look like this, have that much money, and can make me cum like that during our first time, who am I to say no to a life of comfort and happiness?" 

"Do you think you could love me?” Jin asked, confidence mostly gone and his eyes left with pure hope. For the first time, he didn’t know your answer.

You smiled at him, no doubt in your answer as you brought your hand to cup his cheek softly, “I certainly could.” You were softer this time, “But riddle me this…" 

"Anything.” His hand brushed over your own as your thumb stroked his cheek.

“Why do you love me?” He placed a kiss on the back of your hand after holding it.

He sighed dreamily, “I’m surrounded by people with the whole world in the palm of their hand.” He rubbed his face against your hand, “Some love it, some hate it, but they’re all the same.” You saw him grimace at the very thought of these people, “They lie and constantly pretend to be something they’re not.” He looked up to meet your eyes, “But you, are so unapologetic about who you are and what you love.” He cupped your face and you could feel yourself heat at his touch, “You’re honest and not afraid to feel despite everyone trying to get you to conform to their standards.” He smiled at you and you knew it was over, “I genuinely just want you in my life, and I want to be someone special to you as you are to me.”

You were shaken from the trance when you felt a tear slide down your cheek. Never in your life had anyone been so kind and supportive of you. He didn’t joke about how unlikely your career path was or give you a backhanded compliment. He was just a guy who wanted to be in your life and support you- and if overlooking his obsessive stint of his was what you had to do, then fuck it. He could’ve easily lied to you and you would’ve fallen for him none the wiser. What does you knowing about his obsession really change? It doesn’t make him love you any less and it doesn’t make you any less infatuated. You would be his and he would be yours because you both wanted it to be as such.

Jin’s hand brushed the tear off your cheek, “No need to worry, petal.” His voice was gentle, “Not anymore, not while I’m around.”

Your eyes glinted with hope and just a hint of trust when Jin met them again. You leaned in to kiss him softly, an affirming kiss. It was a kiss that said, “You better not be lying to me Kim Seokjin, I’ll go crazy.” You breathed the words against his mouth and he gave you a playful smile.

He gave you a kiss in return, reassuring the faith you decided to put in him. He would never disappoint you. His hand went to the back of your neck as he tilted your head upwards to pull you in deeper, “I’m so in love you.” He breathed on your mouth in return and you shivered, the feeling foreign to you.

“Well,” You huffed, catching your breath, “Do I get to live in your fancy penthouse now?” You gave me a carefree smile, and it sunk in that he was no longer forced to watch you through a screen. He could watch you all day. He had plans to do as much. He found he could prove his love best by merely looking at you. 

You really knew how to read him like a book. He noted how terribly naive you were. In a matter of 24 hours, you agreed to move in with a man who had spied on you like an animal starved. However, Jin only determined this as an exhibition of how meant to be the both of you were. A great playwright must have written your love story for the ages. 

The world looked much more beautiful with your hands on him. 

ko-fi

masterlist

[justasparkwritings]

Codename Cupid: Chapter 3

Previous: Love at First Algorithm 

Pairing: Kim Seokjin X OFC

Genre: Light Angst, Secret AgentAU, AgentAU, Light College AU

Rating: PG13

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: None

Summary: Kim Seokjin and Lee Euna are flirting the line between classmates and crushing, will he return her feelings? 

Daddy’s Favorite & the First Date

Fall, Junior Year

         Lee Euna is the youngest heiress to Lee Enterprises, one of the largest conglomerates in the history of economics. Heralded as one of the leading forces in banking and stock trades, it has banks all over the world catering to the highest cliental, princes and princesses, kings and queens all lined up to put their worth, jewels and all, in the vaults of Lee. Their smaller subsidiaries managed the trading of stocks, networking in millions of dollars for various clients who inhabited a lesser tier of society but strived to reach the upper echelon. Generational wealth, for the Lee’s and their clients, made their work heavily guarded and secretive. Getting hired by them was near impossible, and once you were in, death was the only way out.

         It was a misconception that Euna had little to live up to, as her parents favorite and owner of the highest IQ out of her four siblings, she was set to become CEO, while her siblings were relegated to chairman of the board, and heads of philanthropy. The titles suited her siblings fine. Dae-Seong loved bossing around the members of the board, encouraging frivolity and billable hours while scheduling grueling development that often-bored members to tears. He ruled with an iron fist, what he said went, that is unless the CEO had a differing opinion, and then, both out of spite and seniority, Dae-Seong fell in line with what their father wanted. Dae-Seong didn’t care for the familial atmosphere their father had run Lee Enterprises with, and favored a cold regimented environment that was almost impossible to work in. Dae-Seong always said that the best blooms came from the hardest earth. Whether or not that was proven, he didn’t care, at LeeEnterprises, he would make it so.

         Jun-Seo and Kwan-Min loved running the philanthropy branch of the Enterprise. They, like their father and mother, adored a good party and held several charity balls each year. Together, they raised hundreds of millions for a variety of causes that Euna barely paid attention to. The food was always exquisite, the drinks plentiful, the glimmer of the party always outshining the family feud that erupted hours before guests showed up, and the scandals that would be whispered about the morning after. Though the scandals never tarnished the reputations of Jun-Seo and Kwan-Min, they certainly provided a necessary indulgence to all the attendees.

         Kwan-Min, the second oldest, was thrilled with her role in Lee Enterprises. She and Jun-Seo were heralded as visionaries, doling out millions of dollars every year to causes that ranged from climate justice to underfunded schools, and cancer research. They were responsible for funding some of the most progressive movements, as well as backing lobbyists for liberal, bordering on socialist, legislation. They dedicated an afternoon a week, usually Thursdays, to spend their time scouring the internet for new charities to donate money to. This was the heart of their jobs, finding niche organizations that were struggling, food pantries in rural towns or women’s shelters in battered parts of the city, that sustained their other work and lessened the blow of the billions in their bank accounts.

         It was hard to be known as a large corporation benefiting from tax breaks while subsequently funding social movements. The family never discussed the dichotomy of their predicament, instead choosing to let their actions speak for themselves.

         Anyone could donate thousands to St. Jude.

         Only the Lee’s could donate a hundred million.

         While Kwan-Min found satisfaction in donating to negligible organizations, Jun-Seo found bliss in hounding friends and acquaintances for money. A natural salesman, he strived on the pressure he created for himself. Nothing was ever good enough, or enough period. He was always wanting more. More money to give away, more money to spend on vacations and lavish trips, more alcohol, more clothes, everything in excess. His work, and Kwan-Min’s, was regularly overlooked by both their parents, Dae-Seong and Euna. The good they did was always outshined by the amount that Euna and Dae-Seong pulled into the business, the new dignitaries transferring their funds, the latest piece of the Queen’s jewelry put into one of their vaults. They’d always played the role of second fiddle, and as years went by, no matter their accomplishments, they were never held in the same esteem as Euna and god forbid, Dae-Seong.

         If Jun-Seo and Kwan-Min were relegated to the B-Team, Euna was first off the bench for the A-Team. Every Lee child attended college, but none went to the most elite universities with the most widely renowned business program, with guarantees to intern anywhere they wanted, except Euna. Her older siblings watched as she rose through the ranks, mastering the cello, classic ballet and calculus by the time she was thirteen. They watched, with pride and in horror, as she crunched numbers in her spare time, pirouetted across the most elegant stages and slung her bow delicately against the strings of her hand made instrument. It was clear from an early age that Euna was the best of the four of them.

         In fits of anger, Dae-Seong would chide that their parents had hit it out of the park with him and kept trying until they got another diamond. If fate had been on their side, Euna would’ve been second, and if the gods really favored them, she would’ve been a boy. He routinely failed to acknowledge his other siblings, whom he owed a great deal of gratitude. It was their work that kept the paparazzi and critics at bay, their work that allowed him to go on benders and run his corporate torture seminars. Their good PR paid for his mistakes, with change left over.

         Dae-Seong specialized in breeding discontent, of taunting his siblings, bullying them, forcing them against each other. Euna had recognized this side of him from the time she could identify his actions weren’t full of love, but malintent. The announcement that she would train to be the next CEO had sent Dae into a blind rage, which he quickly turned into a bender in the most elusive clubs. They didn’t hear from him for a week, and when he returned, their father had lashed out at him before sending Dae to a ‘conference’ for a month. The siblings knew what had happened. The belt had come off the wall, and Dae, though grown, had succumbed to his father. Dae was sent to a ‘conference’ every two years or so, when his behavior and attitude became so unkempt that Mr. & Mrs. Lee felt they had no other option than sending him away for a month to sleep, reset, relax and most importantly, detox.

         There was something so pathetic about Dae-Seong’s ability to break bad and as punishment, spend a month being massaged and covered in salt scrubs.

         Euna was relieved when her parents let her move away for university and elated when Mr. & Mrs. Lee took it one step further and sent her, each summer, to work at various branches of Lee Enterprises. A summer in Seoul, a winter break in London, summer in Manhattan, another winter in London, a stop in the UAE, followed by tours of the Cayman Islands and a summer in Rio. Euna was grateful for her time away from her family and absorbed everything she was learning. She didn’t just have to prove Dae-Seong wrong, she had to prove her parents right, show that her genius wasn’t due in part to her rookie status, that her prowess and instincts weren’t dismissible as beginners’ luck.

         Spending winter and summer breaks at various branches, Euna let her work speak for her. She learned how to manipulate to make a sale, how to aggregate data in order to create an accurate projection of stock trades, to look at holdings of dignitaries and suggest how they could diversify their portfolios. The more she worked, the better she became. The harder she worked, the easier it was to pretend she didn’t know anything. Euna was in for the long haul, and that meant manipulating her persona to mystify and baffle the masses. A woman in power was a threat, and she would be damned if she let the company and the world take that from her.

         She had watched Kwan-Min and their mother being dehumanized in the media, in board meetings, at the hands of her father and Dae-Seong. When they gave too much of themselves, the world readily ate it up, devouring them whole. As a girl, Euna watched Kwan-Min change from intelligent and driven to flirty and ditzy. She watched her sister, who she idolized in secret, disappear into the mold their father had crafted. Euna wondered how long it would be before she had to adapt a highly manicured image? A version of herself in complete juxtaposition of her ingrained personality?

         It was this turmoil, this paradox, that threw Seokjin after their first meeting. She was nothing like he’d read or seen in their years at university or in the news. Though he hadn’t paid much attention to her and would admit he knew nothing about her besides the obvious, he was constantly being surprised.

         “Did you check the latest model and run the analysis?” Euna asked on a Thursday some weeks into their project.

         “Yeah, and it looks like, if Dr. Cho opens the market next class period, we’re going to see a major boom,” Seokjin answered. He’d been working on looking at Euna more, particularly when she spoke to him, and she found it all the more endearing.

         “How major?” She asked.

         “Multi-millionaires by end of week,” Seokjin informed her.

         “Good, what’s going to ruin it?” Euna set her pen down and stared at Seokjin. His lips were pouted, bangs sweeping in front of his glasses. He was beautiful.

         “If some major political event happens in the next four days, or if something happens in China,”

         “Ah, China,” Euna said rolling her eyes. “Always have to look out for the Chinese.”

         “The American market is fairly stable, but it’s the US,”

         “So, hold your breath and pray it’ll be okay?” Euna chuckled, a sound Seokjin had never heard. He laughed in response. “You have a great laugh.”

         “Oh, thank you,” Jin looked back at his computer. “You know, we’ll only have to monitor the project for a few more weeks.”

         “Seokjin, are you trying to tell me you’ll miss me?” Euna inquired.

         “Maybe, maybe I’m trying to ask if you want to hang out, maybe get a drink or coffee outside of work hours,” Seokjin shrugged, his blasé attitude ignited something within Euna. For the months they had been working together, she’d tried and failed to get him to ask her out. His disinterest in her, in anything about her, drove her crazy. He didn’t ask questions, he didn’t inquire about work or god forbid her family, or other classes she was taking, even her friends. She could have anything in the world, and yet, this man, out of reach.

         “I’d like that,” She responded.

         “Cool, how about coffee, this Sunday?” Jin suggested.

         “I can’t Sunday, family obligations,” Euna cursed her family for what felt like the millionth time.

         “Tuesday, instead of working,” Jin compromised.

         “Will the numbers wait?” Euna was partially joking, which Seokjin caught immediately.

         “They’re fictional numbers,” Jin reminded her.

         “It’s a date,” Euna replied.

Next: Codename The First Heartbreak

[pendragonfics]

Sparks Fly

Paring: Carol Danvers/Reader

Tags:  gender-neutral pronouns, gender neutral reader, mutual pining, requited love, idiots in love, awesome Carol Danvers, electricity, electrocution, Terrigen Crystals, fluff, girls kissing, alternate universe - canon divergence, infinity war and endgame? who's she?

Summary: Avenger-in-Training ___________, is a mirror. Ever since they burst out of the Terrigen Crystal with newfound abilities, they were picked up by S.H.I.E.L.D., and sent to be trained by the Avengers. But that's the thing - it's hard to concentrate on training when there's a good book, or, better yet, Captain Marvel herself...

Word Count: 2,524

Current Date: 2019-05-02

You tried to stay away from her, and yet…there was a magnetism that drew you closer. That was all anyone had to say when they talked of Carol Danvers, the first Avenger. If it wasn’t everything about her that made you want to fall to your knees at her presence, there was her abilities, her eyes that could glare into oblivion or sparkle like nebulas…

You shake your head at the thought of her. There wasn’t a chance that she’d be interested in you, let alone like…that. And there wasn’t a chance that she had a clue who you were. Well, apart from the fact that she knew your name, and said hello once in passing in the halls of Stark’s upper New York base…

But that was a fluke, you reminded yourself. She was Captain Marvel. Literally more powerful than the Hulk himself. The tabloids were going off the hook with theories since she’d returned to Earth for good; the story of the poor Carol Danvers, abducted by aliens had been replaced with a mixed review of cynical old men afraid of a powerful woman whose blood ran with energy, and swathes of fans who looked up to her like she was a sun goddess.

Maybe you were just one of those people. You were one of those people. Not in love. Yeah, you weren’t.

You tried to keep to that narrative, but then Tuesday happened.

You were in the workout room, laying on the bench-press with a book. You were supposed to be training; Steve had given you strict orders to not be idle, and yet…the pages of adventure within the cover of The Martian called to you with a stronger song. The Compound was in one of its quiet days; Wanda had taken the week to travel to her hometown to visit her family’s graves, Scott was taking time for family, Thor had found himself a hobby in glassmaking, Bruce and Tony had absconded to Wakanda for a special scientific seminar in the capital, and while Steve and the remaining Avengers took the time to go out for the team-appropriate missions, you were housebound.

It wasn’t too bad, in theory, but it was starting to get to you.

You were almost up to a good part of the book when it was taken from your hands. Furious, you looked up to see James Rhodes striding away with your book, and behind him, Steve.

“I didn’t know you could bench five hundred,” he commented, gesturing to the weights piled onto the side.

Sitting up, you glance at the barbell. It must have been left on from when Thor was somewhat showing off for Dr. Cho yesterday; there was no other people you knew who could even dream to lift that around. But you looked back to Steve, taking in how his jaw was set, elbows jutting out akimbo from resting upon his hips; testing you.

Knowing you’d fail.

“You really do underestimate me,” you reply. Laying down again, you reach for the bar, fingers grasping the metal like a cat latching onto a scratching post. You take a deep breath, knowing most certainly of what will happen - you’ll be crushed. You don’t even mind if it’s because you’d rather do this than admit you’ve been skiving the weights training. “Watch this.”

“___________ -,” Sam interjects, concerned.

But you don’t pay mind. You push upward with all you can, unlatching the bar, and shakily, you lower it. Your abilities are tapping in, mimicking the strength of those closest to you. But even then, it’s hard. Steve stands near, and so does Sam and Clint, but you can only tap into one person at a time. One person to copy.

“What is this, a pissing contest?” Carol speaks up, pushing between Clint and Steve. Her eyes are full of fury and her hair starts to spark with static at the rising of her voice. “I get it, Rogers, you’re angry that ___________ didn’t do what you ordered, but five hundred?” She’s incredulous. “You’re going to kill them!”

Steve doesn’t reply, at least, before you feel a jump under your skin. It’s like pins and needles, except it hurts less, and is so much more number. It’s a different feeling than anything you’ve ever gotten from your abilities, and in the moment, you grasp it, holding it under your skin like a pool toy thrust underwater.

And then you’re lifting the weight, once, twice, three - and you continue to do so until you finish a set. At ten, you place it back in the resting place, and sit up to face Steve.

“It’s okay, I’ve got this covered,” you look to Carol with a little smile. Even as the mimic wears off, you feel a little of the burn, and it fills you with a wave of pride course your veins. Turning to Steve, you say, “I get it, you’re sad, but so am I. And obviously I can’t press five hundred by myself, but…” you grin, feeling the pride rising, heating your ears. “A mirror reflects what it sees, and what I see, is a leader who needs to get off my case.”

You walk off, and as you pass James, you grab your book. Just as you’re at the exit, you turn back to the group, and, with your hand posed as if there’s an invisible microphone in your grasp, you drop it, and walk out.

---

After that, there seems to be no end to your evasion of Carol; simply because wherever you turned, there she was. Making coffee? She’d be sitting on the kitchen bench, talking with Dr. Banner over scrambled eggs. Chilling out and reading in the common area? She’d be watching reruns of the original series of Full House. Taking out the trash? She’d be covered in grease and tinkering with her motorbike. And every single time that you saw her, you became more and more maddened by the feelings you had for her.

It got to the point where something would flare up inside of you at the mere thought of her, which, was unheard of for you. You were a mirror, a mimic. You’d been able to copy anyone with special abilities ever since you’d been subjected to a potent dose of a Terrigen crystal, no exception to the rule. Except…now. You usually needed to have a subject in front of you to copy, but more and more, your body was lighting up with static electricity that zapped at you.

At first, you dismissed the static as just seasonal. It happened to everybody. But when you kept getting little electric shocks, even on things that weren’t conductive, it made you question what you knew. So, you did what you did best in times of confusion: you found an expert.

Dr. Cho had a lab for herself to potter around in - which was code for ‘not in the vicinity of Tony Stark’s tinkering’ - when she was around the Compound. It was well-lit, nicely organised, and rarely visited by those who weren’t in need of something. Which is why it shocked you - pun intended - to see Tony Stark in the lab. Well, it shouldn’t have. He owned the whole place, and it literally paid to be a friend of his.

“Mirror-Mirror, fancy seeing you here,” he greeted you with a signature smile. “What brings you to my favourite medic’s wing?”

“Mr. Stark,” Dr. Cho shook her head, “This is the only medic’s wing in the building.”

You chuckled at Helen’s response, but answered the Iron Man. “Well, Shell-Head, I happen to need a doctor.” You gave him a wan smile, approaching he and Dr. Cho slowly, “and while Dr. Banner can practice a few different kinds of medicine, I so-happen to prefer this practitioner.”

Helen beamed. “You’re too kind, ___________.”

At that, you went to walk toward them. But it seemed that with every step that you took toward the two out of three parents of Ultron (and ultimately, Vision), your body lit up with the electricity. It felt like the static you’d use to get as a kid by touching too-hot car doors or the play-ground slippery-dip, but much, much worse. With every step it worsened, until it got too much, and leaning onto a bench, your fingers zapped at the tabletop, and raised the hair on your arms.

“If it’s not too much,” you whimpered, “I need a diagnosis, please.”

Strangely enough, Stark left without another word, leaving you alone with a very perplexed doctor before you. She approached tentatively and touched one of your limbs with a plastic rod. The both of you watched as it conducted a little electric zap. Humming in approval, she looked to you.

“This looks like something I’m not quite sure of…” she frowned, and touching your hand with her bare hand, received no shock at all. “That’s curious…” she whispered.

“Everything about me at the moment is curious,” you whined, placing your head flush against the bench. A zap echoed as your forehead touched the metal, and you winced. “Ow.”

---

Until the medical professionals work out why you’re a walking phone charger, you’re benched from Avengers activities. Which, even if you weren’t actively doing before, kind of bums you out now. Being stuck in your room is nobody’s picnic, and even after you finish watching all the available episodes of The Good Place on the streaming service, you’re still full of energy.

Damn the sparkles. Damn your abilities. Damn everything.

Simmering with activity, you push your laptop away, and begin to pace the room. But even then, you stop, because looking down, you realise that you’ve started to scorch the floating floors around your room with distinct foot-shaped sears. Deciding against running a hand across your face for fear of accidently frying it, you look to the window, and see the fire escape. It was a remanent of the past, when Howard Stark had this facility kitted out to be something of a base than as a living area for people who were the Earth’s first and last line of defence.

Since there’s no-one around to say no, you go to the window, and clambering out, climb onto the roof. Once up there, you’re met with silence. It’s not a bad kind of silence, like when you’re alone with your thoughts and trapped in a crystal catacomb by a terrorist. It’s…good. It’s a clear night, but on the horizon, behind the still-fading sun, there’s a storm brewing. You can tell by the clouds. Thor is still away in Italy, so it can’t be him. You settle into a comfortable position and watch as it creeps over the hills.

But it doesn’t. It’s the most curious kind of sunset, and in almost a doomsday fashion, the bright spot comes nearer. If you weren’t an Avenger-in-Training, you’d be considerably more afraid. But since you regularly interacted with weird things and once met the Wolverine (who was horrified at your abilities, by the way), you kept your cool. Which was good. Because as the bright spot neared, you started to see a face, and you recognised the meteor-esque flying object to be none other than Carol Danvers.

She landed ceremoniously beside you, sitting with her knees raised, hands resting upon them. Her suit looked so good, and even better with her in it. Just thinking that made your feel a flush of embarrassment, and as she looked to you, you ducked your head into your chest.

“Any news?” she says, giving you a smile that made your heart flutter.

You blink, mind blanker than a fresh ream of printing paper. “…”

Carol leans back onto the roof, gazing at the sky that coated the world around you with a growing smattering of stars. “About the zapping thing you’ve got.” She says. You must look visibly mortified, and she adds, “I talked to a couple of people. It doesn’t look fun.”

You look at your hands. Bringing your fingers near to one another, you watch as little shocks traverse between them. “To be honest, I’m not sure if it’s so bad.”

Carol nods. “I didn’t like my thing when I first got it,” she says, bringing two fists to her chest, and with a pumping motion, shoots two photon beams from her body. “…but it depends on how you look at it.”

Your brain is almost like static, but you manage to process her words. “it’s just…when I got hit with the crystal, I thought I knew what I was. I’m a mimic, and yet, I’m like a walking Vegas light show for some reason.”

Carol laughs, and says, “Have you been to Nevada?”

“Not for a while.”

“Well, when you’re not grounded to this base, and I’m not on a mission, let’s go.” She tells you. “It’s been a while since I was last there.”

You feel your pulse quicken under your skin, and as you swallow, you feel your skin prickle with static. “You want to go? With me?” you ask, dumbfounded.

Carol nods. “Yeah. Well, because Maria has her own Captain Trouble to take care of these days, and while I’m sure Stark would love to take a trip down to the desert, I’d rather go with you.”

The sun has started to properly set now. The sky has begun to pick up colours through the clouds in the sky, and the stars that glisten on the other side of the horizon sparkle like diamonds or shards of glass. It’s like a Bob Ross painting, and you’re in it, and so is Carol.

“Why me?” you wonder, voice small.

She beams, like the shooting star that she is, and leans close. She and you are the only ones outside, and other than who’s in the base, the only ones for miles. She doesn’t need to lean close to you, but she does.

“Because,” she says, slowly, tantalisingly, “I’m kind of into you.”

“Holy shit,” you whisper. It’s not the ideal answer, but Carol’s face lights up at it. “That’s…I like you too,” you tell her, so quiet, that it could almost be carried away with the wind. But she heard it. Slowly, you felt a magnetism again, and this time, stronger than ever. Your hands touched hers, and leaning closer, you felt yourself drawing toward her, closer, closer -

“___________,” Carol breathes, your name heavenly in her mouth, “You’re glowing.”

Opening your eyes, you see that you are. Like a Christmas tree strung with so many battery-powered globes.  You watch as it dims, but instead of it fading away, the light that had encompassed you, all the sparks that flew and the fireworks that boomed in your belly, they passed through your hands, seeping into Carol’s skin.

You retract your hand from hers, and as you replace it to lean once again on the roof, you miss the feeling that came before.

“I’m not static anymore,” you gasp.

Carol shivers, unbidden. From her shoulders, sparks fly. “I think I’m your cure, then.”

“Hell yeah you are,” you grin, closing the distance between your mouth and hers once again.

[ravenclawismyjam]

Episode 15 Rayan The ending we truly deserved

I couldn’t let it go and had to write this. I HAD TO. I am too thirsty. All written in one go, just how I wished the episode to end. My first ever fanfiction. Feel free to read (without wasting AP), like and share (with giving credits).

MCLUL Episode 15 – alternative ending Rayan (proof-read version)

‘Honestly, I’m used to it. He must have run into someone he knows and show up in five minutes. Or in a couple of days.’, Amber said indifferently. I sent Nathaniel a text message telling him where we were and joined the others that already found a place to sit a few metres behind the food truck. The cotton candy sent a sugary rush through my body and I got even more excited about the rest of the evening. While the group was chatting lightly and enjoying the food, Nathaniel reappeared from behind the bushes and joined the group. ‘Where have you been all this time?’, asked Rosa curiously. Nath sat down next to his sister. ‘I went to the toilets but they were out of order so I had to go to the other side of the park to find other ones and on the way back I didn’t see you right away. I see you all had food already?’, he said while glancing around. ‘Yeah, we didn’t know if you wanted any but you can have the rest of my churros. I am already full.’, Amber said while passing him an almost full tray of churros with cinnamon. I looked at her but didn’t bring up the topic.

While Nath dug in, we decided to all go to the Ferris wheel as our next destination. The pods allowed only two people at the same time so I went together with Chani while the others found themselves into pairs as well. I couldn’t help but think about how romantic this would have been with Rayan. Maybe next year, we could visit the fair as a regular couple. For all it was worth, at least I was going to spent the rest of the evening with him. I smiled. Chani brought me back. ‘I am sure he would have liked it as well.’ ‘Wait, what? Who?’ She giggled. ‘Professor Zaidi, of course. I can tell from the look on your face that he is on your mind right now. Any plans to see him soon?’ I was certain that this girl had a promising career as a mind-reader ahead. ‘Uhm, yeah, later tonight actually. He has to grade some papers, but we will meet once our group is done with the fair.’ ‘Lucky for you then. It seems like most of us are already quite tired and ready to go home.’ She nodded to the pod behind us. Rosa was resting on Leigh’s shoulder with her eyes closed.

When everybody was back on the ground, most of us said their goodbyes, leaving only me, Chani, Priya, Morgan and Alexy. I took my phone out, to text Rayan to check if he was still awake and up to meet. After all, it was only around 9pm. He answered immediately ‘Yes, I have been waiting already eagerly for you and your lips. All papers are graded for today, I think I deserve a break.’ He sent me an address. ‘Let’s meet there.’ My heart skipped a beat. Was this the address to his place? Was I finally allowed to see his apartment? And more importantly, had he changed his mind about this line we hadn’t crossed yet? ‘EARTH TO CANDY, DO YOU COPY?’ I almost dropped my phone and just barely managed to catch it. Alexy looked at me suspiciously. ‘Did you hear anything I just said?’  ‘Uhm, what?’ The others laughed. ‘Alexy and I will go for a final ride together but the girls want to go back to the dorms’, said Morgan. ‘What are your plans now?’ I looked at my phone. ‘Uhm, I have something else to do but I will walk to the exit with the girls.’ I gave out a round of hugs and headed to the entrance gate of the park. I checked the address on my phone and it seemed to be no less than a 10-minute walk from here. I waved Chani and Priya goodbye as they went the opposite direction towards campus lightly chatting.

Usually, I would have been a little scared to walk by myself during the night but the street lights kept everything bright and I barely came across other people. After a few blocks, I noticed a familiar silhouette standing on the side walk. I waved at Rayan and he took a few steps towards me to hug me tightly. The street was pretty empty, apart from loud chatting coming from a little tapas bar at the corner. Feeling Rayan’s strong arms around me made shiver a little from excitement. I inhaled he is cologne and felt the warmth of his body. After a while, he let go of me. ‘Why are we meeting here?’, I asked, naturally curious. ‘Well, I figured we both didn’t have a proper dinner, unless you want to count candied apples and cotton candy as healthy meal choices. And I didn’t have time to cook anything so I thought we could get some tapas here as takeaway.’ Just that second, my stomach let out a loud grumble. Rayan laughed, ‘Seems like we have a deal.’ We entered the little shop and went up to the counter. The people on the small tables inside did not take any notice of us whatsoever and continued with their conversations. Rayan and I chose a variety of tapas samples with different toppings which the waiter packed into a cardboard box with the restaurant’s name on it. Rayan paid and we left the little restaurant.

‘We are we off to now? Are we going to eat in the streets or do you have another idea?’, I glanced at him, hoping he would suggest what I was hoping. ‘I really like this restaurant and I come here a lot because it is only one street away from my place. I thought, we could go there to eat.’ Having him actually say the words, made my heart skip a beat. The day at the beach came to my mind, when he said he was ‘old-fashioned’ about certain things and wanted to get to know me better. Rayan had already gone a few steps ahead and turned around, ‘I-I-I mean, only if… you feel comfortable, of course’.  He looked a little nervous. After making sure that the street was empty, I gave him a quick but passionate kiss. Reassured, we turned into a side alley and Rayan got his keys out. His apartment was in a big building covered in red bricks with big windows. ‘It’s on the 7th floor but there is an elevator, don’t worry’, he said after noticing me inspecting the stairway. Carrying our tapas bag in one hand, he pressed the button and the doors closed. I felt his hand holding onto my waist and pulling me closer. No matter how much fun I had on the fair with the others, something was telling me that the best part of the day was still ahead.

Rayan’s apartment was just as I imagined it to be. We entered the living room that featured a big couch in the corner, a TV, a shelf with some DVDs, a huge wooden desk covered in papers, next to a bookshelf full of art books. Here and there were some pot plants. Through an arch door, I could see a small but nice kitchen and on the other side was a closed door, presumably to the bedroom. I wondered if I would get to see the whole apartment tonight. Rayan went into the kitchen while I inspected his DVD collection and he came back with the tapas on a platter, a bottle of wine and two glasses. It looked incredible. He set everything on the little couch table a joined me on the couch. He had barely time to sit down, when I already jumped on him and kissed him tenderly. He reciprocated the kiss while stroking my hair behind my ears. Our lips parted just to meet again a few seconds later and yet, it felt like forever. I rubbed my nose into the nook on this neck while he held me tight, kissing my forehead. I had no idea how a man could have such an effect on me. It is almost as if all my sorrows have been blown away just by being with him. We stayed like this for a while longer before our stomachs signalled us to start eating. While we sampled all the different kinds of tapas and enjoyed a glass of wine, we talked about whatever came to our minds.

‘I can tell you, a trip with the other university staff feels quite like back in the days when I was in high school and we went on class trips. Some things never change.’, Rayan said, concluding his anecdote about his recent seminars. I was snuggled in his arms, listening to his story, feeling his warmth and heartbeat. ‘Are you still awake?’, Rayan leaned forward to check if I had my eyes open. ‘Yes, sir, I am awake’, I said smirking and planted a kiss on his lips, ‘But you have to admit that it is running somewhat late.’ Rayan looked at the clock on the wall, it was almost midnight. ‘If somebody knew that you were at your Professor’s place in the middle of the night, you would be in some serious trouble, Miss.’ ‘Would I?’  I raised an eyebrow and moved my face closer to his. Without blinking, almost like a dare, I whispered ‘I feel like you could even be in bigger trouble. One-way ticket to hell, remember?’  He chuckled. ‘Well, if I am already in trouble, I have nothing to lose.’  With a sudden movement he tugged his arms around my waist and stood up, lifting me from the ground. I couldn’t help but letting out a surprised scream while managing to wrap my legs around his waist not to fall down. Unerringly, Rayan carried me towards the closed door, opened it and dropped me on the bed in the room behind it.

(From here on it gets a little less child-appropriate, enjoy, hehe)

The fresh sheets felt cold and soft on my skin. ‘You, Miss, must have had too much wine. As your Professor, it would be irresponsible to let you go home like this. You will have to spend the night here, let me help you with that.’  He started to zip my pants open and I pretended to resist for a little before taking of my shirt myself. Rayan stared at me for a moment, and even though his face had a soft expression, his eyes were already hungry to undress the rest of me. I helped him get rid of the remaining layers of his clothes until we were both only in underwear. I dragged him to me on the mattrass while kissing him passionately. He responded with even more passion which let me moan lustfully. This man made me go crazy. His lips moved downwards along my neck to my breasts and caressed them gently. In an instant wave of arousal, I dug my fingers into his muscular back. Then slowly but eagerly, my hands wandered down to his boxershorts, only to feel the outline of his erection pulsating. When I stroked the material of his boxershorts, he moaned lustfully and his lips found my lips again. With a quick hand movement, I freed his penis from the texile and stroked it with both hands. In the blink of an eye, Rayan got up to get rid of his boxershorts comepletly. While staring at the beautiful sight, a wave of lust overcame me and I had to get rid of all remaining texile as well. Rayan took a little wrapper from the top drawer of his night stand before lowering his head between my legs. For a split second, I felt as if my world was going to explode with desire as his tongue started carassing my most private parts. My fingers entangeled in his hair, ‘Ra-rayan…I-I want you so bad.’ Rayan stopped what he was doing and with one hand touched my cheek while with the other unrolled the condom on his penis. He leaned over me and kissed me. I could taste myself and him at the same time which made me go even wilder, longing for that sweet release. With one push, Rayan had entered me which made both of us moan simultaneously. He looked at me for reassurance but I just kissed him with all my love while he started moving inside me. It was official, every fiber of my body was hopelessly devoted to this man and every move he made. The sweet ecstasy I felt when I was around him was like a drug that had me completely hooked. After an intense eternity that yet felt like it lasted for only a heartbeat, Rayan and I reached our climax at the same time and fell next to each other, heavingly breathing and sweating.

(Everything innocent from here on)

His hands located mine and our fingers crossed. ‘I have never felt like that with anyone.’, he said. I looked at him softly, ‘Me neither’. I truly meant it. After lying there for a while, Rayan got up to shower and laid a fresh towel on the bed for me. I heared the water dripping from the bathroom and followed him, the towel in one hand. He was rinsing off the sweat, when I stepped into the shower cabin and hugged him from behind. His skin was still burning hot but the cold water refreshed me as well. After the shower, we decided to sleep and he offered me one of his shirts to sleep in. While he was brushing his teeth, I snug under the blankets, trying to realize everything that had happened today and how our relationship developed. I didn’t care that we would have to keep it private because if this was private, then it was all I needed. Just me and him together, that was all that mattered. And while I snoozed off, I noticed Rayan’s arms gently wrapping around me, holding me tight. The vacation was off to a good start.