#reduced to a boy put in time out and then an errand boy

[crazysnakey]

Something something about the Third Doctor and the fate of Tantalus. You're trapped in one place. Everything you want, that you once took for granted is right there in front of you, you can see it you can reach for it but you can never have it. You will never attain it on your own. Your fate is dependent on the mercy or cruelty of others and you hate it and you rage against it but you can’t do anything, your defiance is treated like nothing but a childish tantrum but you refuse to beg, you won’t get that desperate no matter how long you’re trapped here, no matter how low you’re brought down. You stand among humans and you look human but you’re not, you’re an animal in a cage with them and you’re the only one who can see the bars. Gnawing and hacking at them to no avail. And yet all you can do is wait and hope and try and fail in an endless loop until an outside force interferes to free you from your prison. The carrot and the stick. How does it feel to be on the receiving end?

[soap-lady]

A little spotlight on Tiffany

@idreamtofmanderleyagain @angelqueen13art @tenebrare

I figured it was time Tiffany got a little focus so...here you go?

Tiffany is in Heaven

Not literally, of course, and hopefully not for a long time. She was finally among her peers again and while she was still seeing a therapist once a week, she was happy. It also helped that she had discovered a trust fund her mother and father had set up for her when she was born, plus she might receive a settlement from the government over the Channard Institute fiasco. Now she didn’t have to worry about college or being too financially dependent on anyone.

Tiffany had also made a few friends. One of which was Mrs. Lopez’ son Antonio, a shy smart boy with a not too secret love for robots. He tried to flirt with Tiffany but was too awkward so they settled on being friends for now.

Another and rapidly becoming her best friend was an outgoing, athletic redhead named Callie Conolly. They had homeroom, math, and science together and hit it off over a mutual love of engineering and bad sci-fi movies from the Fifties. Their friendship was adorable.

Tiffany came home nearly every day with stories that usually began with “Well, Callie said,” and then launched into funny stories about “some trifling moron” and Callie’s response. The girl was rapidly becoming a Callie Database.

Callie didn’t like asparagus. Callie had been playing soccer and baseball since she was five. Callie’s parents were named Dan and Moira and were rather shy but raised their daughter to find her own path in life. They were both engineers. They belonged to a farming co-op and got fresh vegetables every week in exchange for a nominal fee and some light labor.

“So, when are you going to ask her out?” Kirsty asked over dinner one night.

Elliot raised a brow but Tiffany just rolled her eyes. “Sis, I’m pretty sure I just like guys. We’re only friends. Besides, Callie has a boyfriend. Josh.” She made a disgusted face when she said the name. “He’s sixteen and has a car. He's kind of a douche canoe but Callie seems to like him.”

“I think friendship is an excellent basis for a relationship,” Kirsty spoke up. “A good solid foundation, friends-to-lovers trope. I mean, Steve and I were friends all through high school and it definitely helped. But yeah, he was also a douche canoe. And weak.”

Elliot twitched at the mention of Kirsty’s ex-suitor. Boyfriend. He’d done nothing to protect Kirsty and had vanished when she needed him most. Not that she needed protecting; what she needed was a fellow knight to fight at her side and guard her back as she would guard him. He was glad the boy was gone but Kirsty deserved better.

They started discussing the possibility of Callie spending the night one weekend. Kirsty promised she’d think about it but first she wanted to talk to the other girl’s parents. “Feel them out,” was the way she put it.

Tiffany’s grades were excellent so far. A’s mostly but a B or two in the subjects she didn’t like as much. Like Music. Or History.

“Ugh. History is so boring!” She groaned, dramatic in the way only a teenager can be. “The book could cure insomnia and my teacher, Mr. Harris just drones on and on about important dates and battles and can even make things like a bunch of soldiers getting blown up as exciting as a doctor’s visit.”

“Oh?” Elliot’s attention perked up. “What exactly are you studying?”

Tiffany hesitated, then showed him her textbook. “World War I. We’re supposed to write a paper from a soldier’s perspective but include facts and dates as well.  I didn’t…”

“...want to bring up bad memories for me? That’s very thoughtful of you, Tiffany.” He smiled at his ward. “It’s all right. If my experiences help you with history class, I’m more than happy to share them with you.”

Kirsty was off running errands, meeting with lawyers and buying groceries so the two of them sat at the kitchen table and looked over Tiffany’s textbook.

Elliot shook his head in disgust. The editors had reduced the struggles of him, his officers, and his troops down to bland things like dates and locations.

For a moment he was there. He could smell the pungent sulfuric scent of gunpowder, hear the screams of dying men as they called for their mothers. His stomach churned with a strange mix of hunger and nausea and he didn’t hear Tiffany calling his name until she touched his hand.

She looked scared and worried. “Hey, we can stop. You don’t have to help me if this hurts you.”

Her concern touched him. It had been so long since someone genuinely cared if he was hurt or uncomfortable. It was an interesting novelty after decades of being a Cenobite. He was sure his Order cared about him and each other as much as they could but their ways of showing affection involved agony. 

He tried to remember that a simple touch didn’t have to lead to the carving of flesh or the skinning of limbs. His life no longer involved the sounds of screams or being summoned to harvest souls. He wasn’t the Hell Priest. He was Elliot Spencer. And he got to decide who and what he wanted to do with his life.

Elliot began to tell Tiffany about some of his experiences during the war. He carefully edited some of the details but she still gasped and held his hand in parts. Once he thought he’d given her enough information he decided to change the subject.

“So, how are things with you? Besides struggling with schoolwork I mean.” His words sounded stiff and forced, like his father had spoken to him when he was a boy. He was confident of his charm with grown women, but had no idea how to relate to a young girl.

He tried again. “Do you…like your school? Would you rather go to a school closer to home? How well do your teachers treat you? Shall I speak to them for you, or Kirsty could, if you’d rather.”

Kirsty knew this modern world and what was expected. Kirsty had been a teenaged girl and knew how they thought and what they felt. He was rapidly approaching middle age and had never gotten along with his younger sister. No doubt Marilla had married, had children, and was long gone by now.

Tiffany just smiled. “It’s hard for you, isn’t it? This whole,” she made a circle with her hand, “being alive again thing? Being part of a family?”

He felt ashamed. He was supposed to be the adult, the strong protector. He’d been a soldier, dammit, trained to kill. He’d flayed people alive and enjoyed it. Why was it difficult to articulate how he felt?

Elliot nodded. “Yes, I suppose you could say that.” He sighed and closed the book, turning towards his new “little sister”.

“I was never encouraged to show weakness or uncertainty, even as a child,” he ignored her sympathetic glance and went on. “I had family tradition to uphold, so I was turned over to a nanny and then a governess before finally being shipped off to boarding school.” She kept her hand on his and he felt comforted despite himself.

“Then I…well, drifted out of school and into the Army because it was expected that the second son of a very old military family would join. So I did.”

She nodded to show she was listening. “Did you like it?”

He laughed and shook his head. “No! I hated the Army and I wasn’t really good at it. The officers looked down on me because my family was Gentry and not Nobility and the common soldiers thought I was too posh and didn’t want anything to do with me.”

Tiffany let his hand go and frowned. “So, you didn’t have any friends at all?”

“In school? One or two. In the Army, once the Great War started and I was sent to the front, I had one. A name and a face came to mind, a person he hadn’t thought of in decades. Sergeant Jack Brown. Nice chap, big family. Told me after the war he’d have me ‘round for Christmas to meet his family.” He sighed. “Jack died during the third Battle for Flanders. Mortar fire. Quick, so that was a mercy.”

He didn’t want to remember the smile on Jack’s face the last time he saw him or remember the letter of thanks he’d received from Jack’s wife thanking him for informing her of her husband’s death. She’d been expecting again when Jack shipped out. He wondered what had happened to her.

Tiffany nudged his shoulder to knock him out of whatever dark thoughts had overtaken him. “Hey, wanna know a secret? Something I haven’t even told Callie or Kirsty yet.” She gave him a conspiratory wink then turned serious. “But don’t tell either of them. I wanna tell them when I’m ready.”

Elliot raised a hand. “You have my word.”

She leaned in a little closer and lowered her voice, even though they were the only ones there. “There’s a guy I like.”

He hid his hands in his lap and tried to look interested but still neutral. “Someone in your class? That Antonio lad?”

She giggled and dismissed the boy with a wave of her hand. “Again, like Callie, Tonio is just a friend. Probably the nicest guy I know, so if he asked me out I’d go out once but only on a friend date.”

He was feeling a bit confused by her terminology. “And…a boy you would…date…is in a different category?”

“Oh, yeah. Definitely,” she nodded and explained. “You see…you can hang out with friends; go to the movies, eat pizza, talk about dreams or feelings  but there’s no romance involved, you know?” He nodded like he understood.

“But a guy…or girl…you wanna date? You wanna do all that stuff you might do with a friend but you also want to…be alone with them, hold hands, maybe do some kissing?”

He drew back and told her sternly. “Not on the first date, I hope.”

Tiffany rolled her eyes at his old-fashioned statement and he felt very old. When he was young, a kiss was a serious declaration of intent; and very private. His grandfather had once told him he could only kiss his grandmother once they were engaged. This new era with its public displays of affection was foreign to him. He couldn’t imagine kissing anyone in his Order, it would have been unprofessional.

She took pity on him and said, “Okay. Not on the first date. Just for you, Cousin Elliot.”

She stood up, gathered her school things and then leaned down to kiss him on the temple. “Thanks for all the help. Love you.”

“I love you too, Tiffany,” he replied and meant it. He listened to her go upstairs and began setting the table for supper. Kirsty would be home soon and then they’d prepare the meal and eat together.  It made him smile to think of the three of them sitting around the table, laughing and joking and sharing what they did that day with each other. 

He was fortunate to have their affection and care. He looked forward to Tiffany growing up, learning everything her current school could teach her and then going off to university and taking her rightful place in the world. He would miss her but he was certain she would come to visit and tell them all about the amazing things she’d seen and done. He looked forward to hearing about her adventures one day.

For now he would be here to support her in any way he could, even if it was only listening to her talk about young men she liked and giving advice; that, or keeping the bad sort away by terrifying them into staying away from Tiffany. Or perhaps he and Kirsty could take turns intimidating them.

*****

One week later Tiffany burst out of the car as soon as Kirsty put it in park and ran into the house. The embrace she gave Elliot was something between a hug and a flying tackle.

“Ooof!” was all he managed as he held onto the back of the couch to keep from hitting the floor.

The girl jumped up and down in her excitement. “I got an A! I got an A on the paper you helped me write!” She hugged him again and after a pause he hugged her back. 

Tiffany continued to talk to him about her day. “Mr. Harris said my paper was not only factual but he felt he was reading an actual soldier's account of living conditions in the trenches!”

“That might be because he was,” Kirsty walked in the house and closed the door behind her. After putting her car keys in a shell on a table near the entry she grinned at Elliot. “Honey, we’re home.”

“Welcome home, my dears,” he smiled at her and Tiffany.

“What’s for dinner?” Tiffany asked.

He thought about it. “Well, in honor of Tiffany’s academic achievement, why don’t we order takeaway?”

Tiffany’s hand shot in the air. “I call tacos!”

“Tacos!” Kirsty seconded and then started calling the local Mexican restaurant that had replaced her father’s favorite Chinese place.

Elliot sighed. He only managed to get his hand halfway up during these challenges. “I never get to pick the restaurant.”

“We are not having chicken vindaloo!”

[bestillmyfoolishheart]

Scaramouche’s characterization and his Cynicism (3.3 spoilers)

First off, I really enjoyed this archon quest and the way they fleshed Scaramouche very well.

Namely the the cynicism he has— the way he knows that he is unliked and plays into it—the intentional provocation towards the traveler, even if it is unneeded.

The awareness he has in general about his actions,  especially now that he knows the whole story. It really fleshed him out because he is often reduced to being angry for the sake of being angry without taking into account his history and the context—the fatui failing to each his standards etc.

Even if he did say would prefer to step on pests but also realizes the need for nonchalance if it doesn't affect him.

The  subtle bitterness about himself and his relationships, especially with the other harbingers. His relationship with EI or even the lack of it (expanded in here: Link ) HIs time under the organization being nothing  more than a glorified lab rat/errand boy for them.

For a story focused whose premises talked about fitting in with humanity—he also did not fit in with the organization even if he was part of the high ranking people. The line that signora said about how he was only no.6th because he was able to with stand more things than a normal human—encapsulates this clearly.

The conclusion with him spending more time on himself and maybe discovering what it means and working on what he did because what else can he even do? Kazuha's personal quest is about moving on—extend the same to him, he has to live with the fact that all he did result in nothing and the only way he can somehow get repentance is moving forward and living with that guilt.

The questions he would ask Nahida RE: being a puppet and being evil—maybe as a way to hear her answer, while already have one referring just needed that one final thing solidify his choice.

Even when he has forgotten what happened there is still a lingering feeling that something was wrong and he was empty—another interesting because even as the balladeer he had the same sort of emptiness due to the gnosis ( is he then required to have those horrible emotions such what was referenced in his artifact lore where he would rather have the gnosis and all the pains than feel empty—More expansion here: Link– and is experiencing grief and suffering part of what it means to be human, I’m straying away but this somehow made an implication to it.  )

In a way, we get to see his outlook on his life and the events that shaped it—we can’t put the blame the fatui because he admits he also did wrong so it becomes a mixture of both his circumstances and his actions leading him to where he is as of now. With or without his memories, he can never truly fill the void that was bothering him, but the difference now is that can find a way to do so—and learn from the mistakes. 

( I haven’t even touched the aspect of his wanting to be used and finding purpose in being used in the sense that the reason was discarded was because he failed to be useful for Ei and so that can be seen as a motivating factor as to why he would want to help and be useful because if he can prove he has a purpose and a utility—then there is no need for him to be discarded. At the same time, most likely as kabukimono, he would be used to receiving such help from the people of Tatarasuna, and we’ve seen how he gladly accepted the task of helping them out when given the chance to.) 

Currently, I’m excited where he goes from here on out and what he plans to do on his sort of rebirth

(also short one about what the removal of voicelines talking about him entails: link )

[ghostchems]

a perpetual rise - part 1

Papa Emeritus the Third begins to get used to his newfound power. Copia is in mourning. Marion tries to fit in at the Ministry.

notes: sequel to black light guides you. 3.2k words. mdni! 18+! sad copia. sexy terzo. stressed marion. what more could you ask for? ao3 link. also i think my writing has improved a lot since black light so... ya don't have to read that first.

Copia had barely left his quarters in the last month. He would alternate his time between being curled up in his bed, deep under the covers, to reading at his desk. He had a pile of books stacked that he had quickly gone through, warranting another trip to the ministry’s library soon. Ghouls would leave him little treats and snacks outside of his door to ensure that he was eating. 

Copia was in mourning. His brother, the new head of the clergy, had advised everyone to give him the space needed to overcome the loss he suffered. But he hadn’t heard from Terzo himself since that night. The knowing look he had given him before he struck her down for all of the siblings of sin and ghouls to witness.

He felt he had been reduced to Terzo’s errand boy that night. He had no time to think before he was tasked with making sure Papa’s “guest of honor” remained onsite. Copia will admit that perhaps he had used too much force when retrieving her, but in his mind… she deserved it. He may have been taking out his anger on her, but so it goes.

Anger bubbled up in his chest as he placed his head in his hands. Terzo thought that he could just replace Sister Imperator with an outsider. His nails dug into his temples, a broken sob rising from his lips. 

He understood why Terzo had done it, of course. After what she did to him, after what she had done to their brothers. But, Copia knew who Imperator was and he was sure that Terzo had known, too.

“Cazzo.” He grumbled to himself, forcing himself to his feet. He decided that perhaps a trip to the library would help his spirits, hoping to check out more books that he could get lost in. Copia smoothed his hair back as he left his quarters in an attempt to seem somewhat put together. The makeup around his eyes were faded, smudged and cracked, having been on his face for days. He certainly looked worse for wear, earning sympathetic looks in the hallway from the siblings he passed in the hallway.

Copia felt a sense of peace as soon as he entered the library. It had always been his happy place, ever since he was a child. That same security washed over him as he browsed the aisles, unsure of what he was even looking for at this point but waiting for something to speak to him.

That is, until he heard her voice. Copia immediately stiffened, creeping towards the sound. He stopped at the end of the aisle she was in and scowled, hovering until she noticed him.

Marion looked up from the book she had in her hand, tuning Sister Charlotte out who had been gushing over what reading she should take up. A shiver had gone up her spine, having the sudden feeling she was being watched. Her eyes drifted to the end of the aisle, meeting his cold gaze.

“O-oh, hello Papa.” Sister Charlotte squeaked. Marion offered a smile and a small nod towards him. She didn’t know what to say to him at this point, having tried to speak with him on multiple occasions in order to keep things friendly. He was having absolutely none of that which did hurt her feelings quite a bit, but she understood that he was dealing with a painful loss.

Copia said nothing, keeping his gaze on the two of them before continuing on his way. Sister Charlotte visibly shuddered, looking back at Marion.

“You weren’t kidding, he really does not seem to like you.”

**

Marion held her books close to her chest as she walked down the hallway back to her office. She had been settling in nicely to her new role in the clergy, a role that has not yet been officially named, but an important one nonetheless. Terzo had suggested they call her “Mama Emeritus” which was met with a resounding absolutely not from her. She also wasn’t sure if he had been serious in the first place.

She entered her office with a content sigh, resting her books on her desk. Her office was adorned with plants of all kinds and had a bright, sunlit window that overlooked the ministry garden. There were candles lit throughout, a mix of her favorite scents, and a few cozy chairs she could cuddle up.

Marion had never had a space that was so special and so hers. Her apartment had been technically hers but the fact that she didn’t own it had deterred her from truly making it her own. But, Terzo had made it clear to her that this office could be whatever she wanted it to be. 

She settled down in her desk chair, wiggling her mouse to wake up her computer. She absent-mindedly scrolled through her work so far, resting her chin on her hand as her eyes glazed over the words. Papa had given her an important task as her first job – to document their story. The story of him haunting her dreams, seducing her and them forming the bond that they shared now.

She would probably leave out having to watch a YouTube tutorial to learn how to stitch in order to get Terzo’s head back on. And, despite his protests, the amount of orgasms that were had will not be included. It was fun for her to go back and recount how it all happened and how they found themselves where they are today. Eventually, it will be disseminated throughout the clergy to educate the remaining members.

Clergy members had fled, just as she had attempted, after Papa’s grand gesture of power. It had been bloody, it had been dramatic, and it set the precedent that Terzo was not fucking around anymore, that Hell had changed him into a beast not to be triffled with. It was a stark change from the leadership Sister Imperator and Papa Nihil had implemented.

Marion tinkered around with the document for a few more hours, referring back to her journal entries from that time to jog the memories of the dreams they had shared. It was hard for her to concentrate, her mind shifting back to the sight of Copia and his disgust for her.

After a while, she found herself walking down the halls of the ministry, wandering until she came up on her destination. Marion knocked softly on the door, toying with her fingers as she waited. He opened the door quickly, then slowly started to shut it again until he could see her through the crack.

“What is it?” Copia snapped, narrowing his eyes.

“You left your quarters today.” 

“So?” He was full of attitude, his face twisted in disgust.

She stood there in silence for a moment, her eyes scanning over his face. Ever since she had arrived, his behavior had been nothing short of hurtful to her but still, she tried every so often to speak to him. Copia was important; he was Terzo’s last remaining brother and attempting to forge some kind of relationship with him was constantly at the forefront of her mind.

“I wanted to check in on you and see how you were doing.” Marion’s voice was soft, timid almost, her eyes falling to her feet in front of her. Another long silence stretches between them before she brings her gaze up to meet his cold, dangerous eyes.

“You’re only here so he can breed you, you know.” His lips curled into a sinister smile, opening the door to his room only slightly so he can leer over her. “That is all Papa wants you for. That is your role here.” Copia seemed pleased with himself, practically snickering as he spoke.

Her entire demeanor changed. Her body straightened out, shoulders strong as she looked at him with a blank expression. She had expected this kind of response… but it still hurt, of course. She wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of seeing the manifestation of it.

“I’m sorry you feel that way.” Marion pulled her lips into a tight smile. She could see the confusion on his face by her response and got a quick sense of victory over him. “Terzo misses his brother. He will be here for you when you’re ready.” She let that sentence linger in the air for a moment, long enough to see a small flash of emotion across Copia’s face before turning on heel and leaving him alone.

Her heart thudded in her chest as she scurried back to her quarters, closing the door behind her. The second she realized she was alone she let out a deep breath and closed her eyes. 

“Fuck.” Marion sighed as she ran a hand over her face. The stress of her new life could get to her sometimes, specifically when it related to Copia. The siblings of sin and some of the ghouls had begun to warm up to her the more she put herself out there, but even that felt exhausting at times. It was hard for her to accept that there were some that didn’t like her.

That there were some people who thought she was there to please Papa. That she was there to be bred. 

“The fuck does that even mean?” She huffed to herself as she pulled off her sweater and then her pants. The second her bra dropped from her shoulders, her entire body relaxed. Marion gazed upon her reward for the day — her pajamas and the bed. 

She is quickly in both, snuggled under the weight of the blankets as her stress melted away.

**

Marion’s eyes slowly opened, adjusting to the darkness around her. She hadn’t heard him come in but Terzo had his face tucked against her neck, feeling his soft breaths against her skin as he slept. He was lazily grinding against her, his arm draped over her hips. 

She pressed her ass against him further, drawing a low moan from him. His arm slid up her stomach, his hand grabbing at her breast through her shirt with a soft sigh. 

“I missed you today, amore.” He whispered against her neck, planting a few sweet kisses to it. Marion rolled over on her back to look up at him, running her fingers through his messy hair. 

“Long day?”

“Si.” He said with a sigh, eyes fluttering shut at her touch. She brought her fingers down to lightly caress his jaw. Terzo opened his eyes, looking down at her with such affection before leaning in to kiss her. His lips felt soft against hers, his teeth grazing them gently.

Terzo shifted his position, sliding himself on top of her with ease. His hands fell to her hips, teasing with the hem of her shirt. 

“You wear too many clothes to bed, tesoro.” He smirked, grinding his hips against her again.

“I don’t think you wear enough.” Marion stuck her tongue out at him as she slipped her hand down between them, reaching for his already hard cock. He was quick to snatch her by her wrist, pinning it to her side as he clicked his tongue. 

“Marion, let’s not get ahead of ourselves… I owe you some attention, do I not?” Terzo murmured as he pushed her shirt up over her head. He nipped at her jaw, trailing his lips down to her neck to plant open, wet kisses along it. His hands drifted up her sides, reaching her breasts and pinching her nipples. 

She gasped, a low hum rumbling in her throat as her fingers ran through his hair. Terzo moved lower, teeth grazing her collarbone. He brushed his thumbs over both of her nipples, drawing another sharp exhale from Marion.

When he had convinced her to stay, to be with him and to lead beside him, Terzo had promised that she would be worshiped. So far, he had kept his promise to her and then some. He settled his head between her breasts, growling deeply between them.

“So fucking beautiful.” He hissed, glancing up to look at Marion with hungry eyes. “Mine.” She caught a glimpse of it for just a moment — the sharp fangs and the outline horns in the darkness, his true self. The air felt thicker and warmer around them, her skin buzzing underneath his touch. His power was electrifying. 

A moan caught in her throat as he flicked his tongue against her nipple, taking it into his mouth with a growl. His hand moved to her other breast, pinching the nipple as he swirled his tongue around the other. He continued down to her stomach, his teeth gently grazing it before he settled between her legs.

“Oh, Marion.” He teased, flicking his eyes up to hers. “It looks like you’ve been missing me too, eh?” Terzo swept his tongue across her folds, his hands working to drape her legs over his shoulders. She dug her heels into her back as her body trembled, a whimper escaping her lips as he continued to run his tongue along her, dipping it inside of her.

Her hands flung to grab at his hair, pulling him up just a tad to let him know what she wanted. She felt him chuckle against her, obliging as his lips met her throbbing clit, working his tongue against it.  

“F-fuck, Papa.” Marion breathed out, her hips bucking against his face. He growled against her as she shifted her hips higher, using his shoulders to support her. One of his fingers pressed against her cunt, teasing her before sliding it inside. 

Her entire body shook, moaning shamelessly as she pressed even further against him. He slipped another finger in, starting to work them in and out of her as they curl up against that spot.

“So good for your Papa.” His voice was velvety smooth as dark eyes met hers. His lips find her clit again, sucking on it in time with the thrusting of his fingers. One of Marion’s hands falls to his shoulder, digging her nails into it as a string of moans flooded from her lips. Her muscles were spasming uncontrollably, her back arched as she squeezed her eyes shut. She reached her peak, a loud cry rumbling up from her chest as her mouth fell open.

Marion was still shaking as he sat up on his knees, hands on his hips and a smug expression on his face. She couldn’t help but roll her eyes, leaning herself up by her elbows as her gaze fell to his briefs. Her eyes flickered back up to his with a smirk as she reached her fingers to tug at the waistband. 

The smug look was wiped off his face as he allowed her to pull him closer, replaced with a look of pure lust and neediness. He gasped sharply as her lips pressed against his cock through his briefs, immediately moving his hand to grip her hair.

“C-cazzo.” Terzo hissed, his hips already jerking against her mouth. “T-that mouth of yours –” Marion cut him off by pulling his briefs down enough for him to spring out of, her mouth closing around his swollen tip.

She took him in slowly, looking up at him with wide eyes to take in how much he wanted her in that moment. Marion hummed against his cock, letting it slide in to hit the back of her throat, gagging around it. He can hardly take it anymore, his fist tightening its grip in her hair as he started to thrust, taking control back.

Terzo tugged at her hair, pulling her head up to shove his cock even deeper into her throat. His growls and moans filled up the room as his eyes stayed locked on her. Her hands moved to grab onto his thighs, holding them for support as he fucked her face, tears beginning to stream down her cheeks.

“A-all for me. All for your P-papa.” He hissed, his hips jerking erratically as he panted. Terzo grabbed her by the head, shoving her all the way down to the hilt as he came inside her mouth. They were both left gasping for air as he slid out of her mouth, a hand moving to carefully brush the tears off of Marion’s cheeks.

“You are so good to me, amore.” He smiled as he leaned in to kiss her tenderly. She hummed softly against him, pulling him down into the bed. 

It wasn’t long before the two of them were fast asleep.

**

Marion’s eyes slowly opened as a ray of light hit her face, giving a soft groan. Her legs stretched across the bed to see if Terzo had gotten up yet – he had, the bed being empty so she spread out even more with a groan, burying her face further into the pillows. She started to gently drift off back to sleep until she felt the familiar nails brush down her back.

“You are going back to sleep without saying goodbye to me, amore?” Terzo whined as he grabbed on to her hips, pulling out from underneath the pillows.

“I didn’t know you were still here.” Marion huffed, rolling over onto her back. He was already dressed for the day in his black suit and fresh paint. “Sometimes you sneak out in the morning.” 

“Excuses.” Terzo smirked before leaning over her and pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. “Today is a lighter day for me, tesoro. I was thinking maybe we could have lunch in the garden? If you are free, of course.” He waggled his eyebrows at her.

“I think I can make some time for my Papa.” She whispered as she pulled him down into the bed, her arms falling around his shoulders. They laid there in silence for a while, enjoying the calm morning. “Maybe… maybe you should invite Copia to our lunch.” Marion felt him tense up in her arms then slowly rising to look at her.

“Why do you say this? Have you spoken to him recently?” Terzo sat back on his legs, a pained expression on his face.

“He still seems a bit… cold.” She chose her words carefully as the breeding comment came to mind. “But, he left his quarters yesterday. I saw him in the library.” 

“I… I don’t know, Marion.” His voice was quiet with a small tinge of sadness. “Is this something that you really want? For him to be there?” 

She leaned forward to cup his cheek and he immediately softened his expression, giving a low exhale. He placed his hand over hers and pressed it further into his cheek. It was an upsetting situation all around and even though Terzo wouldn’t admit it, she knew it was difficult for him to face what he had done, what he had taken from Copia.

“It’s been a month. I think you both need each other right now.” There was another brief silence before he squeezed her hand, nodding.

“Then I will invite him for lunch.” Terzo pressed a kiss to her hand and pushed himself up from the bed, smoothing out his outfit. “I will see you then, amore.” In a flash, he was back to his old, confident self, a charming smile flashing across his face before leaving their quarters.

Marion sighed softly, returning to her fortress of pillows as she relaxed into the bed. 

[traumxrei-archive]

Just my opinion about Leona. Some people think him showing some vulnerability is too OOC for him, but to me it's not. They forgot that he's still a person with feelings, he just doesn't want everyone to see his vulnerability as he thinks it's a weakness and feels that no one wanted him, even if there many who cares about him. He grew up being hated for no reason that's why he's bitter, at least now, he gets better.

anon omg i could talk abt leona all day so you should prepare yourself bc this ended up being really long-

i think that my views on him match yours too ! vulnerability isn't something he would show easily. rather it's earned. you have to earn his trust in order for him to show the inner parts of him that he works so hard to hide. again, it comes down to the idea that showing feelings = being weak.

thinking about it, it probably took a while for him to trust ruggie enough to wake him up + take care of his food each day. some ppl always reduce ruggie to just an errand boy bc he's being paid, but like... you do realize that leona is still a prince. there's still people out there who might want to harm him or just have overall bad intentions towards him.

so the fact that he trusts this hyena he met school to wake him up from his sleep (where he is vulnerable to attacks) AND with his food (again, poison exists everyone) ? you know that their arrangement isn't just based off the money that leona gives ruggie, there's also a basis of trust there.

[ if you'd like to hear me continue to rant abt leona, go ahead n read below the cut ! ]

though with ruggie the mutual agreement kinda helps him keep distance, bc he can still put a wall up and say "this guy is only helping me bc i'm rich. i'm paying him to do all this." which is true in part, but also at this point in time ruggie's literally leona's right hand man. this is the kinda thing i see leona doing though, he always has counter-measures in place to make sure people don't get too close.

AND ANOTHER THING: i've heard someone say this before and i think about this all the time but leona cares too much. like behind the callous attitude and his biting words, he cares about what people think. why else do you think his overblot memories showed him listening to the people gossiping about him ? he has always cared. about what people said about him, about his impression on people...the way they viewed him affected the way he viewed himself, essentially.

think about it. he was born a second prince. he was blessed with a strong magic from an early age. we know how destructive king's roar can be, so imagine how hard it was to control if you were a child. he was constantly shunned because of his magic, and being compared to his older brother. thus fueling his hatred of the throne and his powers. he was told over and over that he would never be king because falena is there. and when cheka was born, it effectively made him useless to the kingdom. the best he could do was marry with other royalty for the sake of the kingdom and he knows that.

he's smart. he knows he couldn't possibly make a king out of himself by overthrowing falena. no one in sunset savanna would accept a king who killed his own brother. and deep inside i know he cares for his brother. he resents him because of the easy life he had, but he knows that it wasn't falena's fault he was born the second prince. it wasn't his fault those people whispered about him behind his back. and it's his brother. his family. i'm sure he cares for him to some capacity.

and with cheka too, a lot of ppl love to pull out the "bad uncle" card. but notice that he had never done anything to hurt cheka ?? he also never forcefully sends him away. like when he came in the aftermath of book 2, leona complained a bit but kept an eye on him until his attendants came bc he knew it'd be dangerous to let him roam around alone.

however much he resents cheka's existence itself, he doesn't resent cheka. cheka's just a kid. a kid who looks up to him, of all people. so i wouldn't say that he's a bad uncle. he's literally never taken care of a kid before so ofc it's awkward. also he has a reputation n again, he wouldn't just flaunt his weaknesses. he probably likes the little guy and finds him kinda annoying bc of how high-tension he is.

i feel like with a lover, or someone he potentially liked, all of this stuff would be multiplied. like he would hate to seem weak in front of them, but he also wants to keep them at arm's reach bc, obviously, he cares for them. he wants to trust them but he also doesn't want to let anyone that close to him so it becomes contradictory. he would test them and prod but as soon as they try to turn it into something serious he would lash out; say hurtful things so that they would leave him alone just like everyone else. if they manage to somehow keep up with his push-and-pull, then maybe he would actually let them in.

one more thing: i don't believe that loving someone, or letting someone in his walls can fix his traumas. that's another thing i see being perpetuated within the twst fandom. nothing is just. gonna make all those years of trauma disappear. especially not love. that's not how trauma or love works. that's just...belittling the characters we love so much. though loving someone may help in different ways, it can't just erase everything.

having someone may help leona feel less bitter, but he's still going to long for the throne. he's also never going to be able to let go of the fact that his power can put people in danger. maybe his attitude may change slightly because he allows himself love. but leona's leona. he's not going to suddenly undergo a massive change and get a personality transplant just bc he ends up loving someone.

to end it off, all of this is something i really want to explore in a fic one day. i want to write something that just. goes in depth with him. one day !! one day i will make something so angsty and pining bc that's literally leona kingscholar's middle name. leona "angsty and pining" kingscholar. has a good ring to it, huh? if you've read this far, wow, uh sorry for rambling so much ? i hope you enjoyed my personal take on leona's character ^^

[five-rivers]

Three Twilights

Can be considered a loose sequel to Deep Sea Diver (same vibes).

Warnings: Soft body horror, Danny totally ignoring objectively horrifying things

.

.

.

“I was thinking,” started Maddie over breakfast, “we could start observations of that island that came into view last week, the blue one.”

Danny shook his head. “You’ll have to use the Speeder, then,” he said. “I’ve got an errand to run.”

There was a pause as both of Danny’s parents looked at him, confused. He didn’t blame them. Danny rarely went out as a human anymore, and certainly not for anything like errands. Looking like he was still fourteen after all this time made doing anything even remotely official difficult.

But this wasn’t a human errand. “Yeah,” said Danny. “In the Ghost Zone. I’ve got to go to Three Twilights.”

“Where?” asked Jack.

“It’s, um, a city,” said Danny. “Well, three cities, I suppose, depending on how you want to group them. One Realm. On the shores of the Celestial Sea. I’m sure I’ve put it in your files.” Probably a direct copy from his files from before he came clean to them, but still. He stirred his cereal counterclockwise, letting his ice powers chill the milk.

“Yes,” said Maddie, “but there are a lot of places in there. I’m not sure we’ve had a chance to properly look at them all, much less memorize them.”

“Okay, yeah,” said Danny. “I guess that makes sense.”

“What kind of errand are you running, Danno?”

“I’m picking something up for a friend. A book,” he clarified. “They lent it to someone there, but they need it back.”

“A book,” said Maddie. “For the Library of Tongues?”

“No, they’ve got a contract service for overdue loans.”

“Contract service?” asked Jack.

“Yeah. Moonlighting bounty hunters mostly.”

“For a library?”

“I don’t know what to tell you,” said Danny, shrugging. “They’re really serious about their work.”

“If it isn’t for them, who is it for?” asked Maddie. “The princess? Wulf?” Wulf had actually been over a few times, and his parents had… Well, saying they got along would be an overstatement, they didn’t really have anything in common beyond ripping portals in the fabric of the universe, but everyone had been civil. “The boy at the school?”

“No,” said Danny. “Wulf would just get it himself.”

“Who, then?” pressed Maddie.

Danny put a spoonful of cereal in his mouth, delaying. Maddie hadn’t eaten anything since Danny had mentioned the errand. The errand was, in fact, for Clockwork. Danny was always more than happy to do anything for Clockwork. The older ghost had saved him too many times for him to be otherwise. But Jack and Maddie were wary of Clockwork. Danny didn’t get it, but talking about it hadn’t been productive so far.

He didn’t want to lie to his parents. Not ever again.

“It’s for Clockwork,” he said.

Ah, yes, there were those suspicious looks. The ones Danny could have interpreted even without being able to almost literally taste emotions.

“I see,” said Maddie.

“Anyway,” said Danny, quickly, “if I haven’t shown you Three Twilights yet, it’s really cool. I don’t want to take the full rig, but maybe the little ectocam would be okay? The one that I can clip on.”

“Why not the normal camera with an ectofilter?” asked Jack. “That has more features, and it’s easier for us to get data from.”

“Three Twilights. It’s dark there,” said Danny. “It might work in Civila, but not so much in Naŭtika and Astronomia, and I sort of want to go down to the beach and see if I can find any star pearls, and that’s really dark, so if you want to see anything properly, it’ll have to be the sonar setup, which I’m not doing, the noises that thing makes are offensive, or the ectocam.”

“And the Fenton Phones?” asked Maddie.

“Sure,” said Danny. “But I always bring those.”

“Yes,” said Maddie, after a moment. “You do.”

“Great. It’s settled, then.”

.

Most of the journey to Three Twilights could be made by air. Or, rather, what passed for air in the Infinite Realms. But when the rocky edge of an island came into view, Danny touched down. Further in was a blue wood, and Danny walked under its inviting branches.

The atmosphere started sunny, summery. The leaves and needles of the trees were the color of a clear blue sky. But as he got deeper, the leaves were touched with sunset colors: golds, reds, oranges, purples, and pinks. They fell to the ground, crunching beneath Danny’s feet. The sunset grew longer, deeper. The leaves on the trees grew sparser, revealing patches of sky.

By the time only bare branches framed the sky, it was a dusky, dim, purple. A few lonely stars twinkled in the sky.

He passed out of the forest. The city of Civila rose above him. Windows glowed in the near dark like eyes.

Danny had changed, too. His aura had dimmed. The whites of his suit were now dark gray, and patterns swirled on its surface like camouflage, like wind-twisted clouds, like nebulae.

Shadows bled around the corners of the city buildings like ink in water. Will-o-the-wisps bobbed, casting pools of illumination in lieu of streetlamps. Ghosts walked up and down the streets, or floated only a few meters up.

The buildings glittered. Everything was dark, vibrant, colors. A sharp, sweet scent filled the air, something dark and rich beneath it.

The canals in the center of the street were filled with flashing fish. Or perhaps serpents. Or perhaps worms. Between how fast they moved and the dimness of the light, it was difficult to tell.

Danny could feel his irises contracting, shrinking down to needle-thin rings. His teeth were sharp. He matched the other ghosts around him. This was how the Civila liked it, how things were in this part of Three Twilights.

Everything in order. Everything peaceful. Everything civil.

Danny walked through the market square, and bought some charcoal-colored cherry pastries from a vendor who looked like someone’s nightmare demon with a chip of ghost ice.

Much to his parents’ protests. They didn’t care for him eating ghost food.

There were seven bridges to Naŭtika, which was built half underwater and half on boats that floated both on the water and in the air. As the dark waters of the inlet lapped at his feet, Danny felt the changes ripple across his skin. To a human, he would look pure black, except for the faintest glimmer of rim lighting and the stars of his eyes. He and the other ghosts moved silently, cutting through the waters like shadows.

To Danny’s ghostly senses, the place was alive with emotion and force, energy loud and crackling against his senses.

“We’re solely on the ectocam, now,” said Maddie. “You were right about that.”

“Mhm,” said Danny, half distracted by a whispered sea-shanty backed by a choir of not-voices and not-sound that wove together with the mastery of a hundred years of practice.

He glided up a rope net, and began to navigate the ropes to the taller ships. The very tallest, the ones that scraped the ever-darkening sky and blotted out uneven sections of stars, moored the glass-like ships that floated above. He’d need to reach them, to get to Astronomia.

“What’s that?” asked Maddie, breaking his concentration on his path.

“What’s what?” asked Danny, whisper soft, drawing some looks. He turned, slowly, on the spot, planks barely creaking under his steps. A gentle wind ruffled his hair.

“There,” said Maddie. “By the ghost that’s registering red.”

It had taken Danny a long time to learn what color on the ectocam’s artificial sensor signified what, but he had, if only to reduce the guessing when they played this game.

“Star pearls,” said Danny, eyeing the ropes of stone that glimmered brighter than his eyes currently did. They were one of the only reliable forms of light, out on the Celestial Sea, although they were valued for other things, too.

“They’re putting out a massive amount of energy,” said Maddie.

“You mentioned them before,” said Jack. “You wanted to look for some?”

“On the shore,” said Danny. “Out past Astronomia.” He wanted to find his own, rather than buy them.

Partially because they were expensive. He didn’t really want to think about how much unmelting ice he’d have to conjure up to equal one of them. They were usually bartered in exchange for… more significant things.

The ghost by the pearls beckoned him closer, clearly hoping to make a sale. Danny shook his head, broadcasting regret and admiration for his wares. Speech might be faster but, under these circumstances, it would not be polite.

When Danny left, the social rules of Three Twilights would only leave the faintest impression on his mind. But, for now, they were a heavy, but not uncomfortable weight. One he could shrug off if necessary, but which was currently useful.

“What are they?” asked Maddie, as Danny turned away.

“They happen when big enough things fall into stars,” said Danny. “They’re all the memories of what they used to be… and the imagination of what they could become, when the star dies. Well, that’s what they’re supposed to be. I don’t think anyone really knows for sure.”

“And you can just… find these? Lying around?”

“Not… not really,” said Danny, slowly drifting towards a crow’s nest. “It’s like that one national park. That one where you can collect diamonds? You never really find anything good, but you can look.”

“I see,” said Maddie. “So, you don’t expect to find one?”

“Yes and no,” said Danny. “If I don’t expect to find one, I probably won’t. Unless the sea is feeling ironic, which it usually is, apparently. I mean, it’s an ocean and the stars. And prophecy is, like, ninety percent irony, but mostly for an outside observer. Which honestly makes sense, I think. An observer, not an Observant. Those are different things.”

The kind of silence on the other side of the line was the one that emerged when Danny used too much ghost logic.

“Anyway,” he continued as he scaled the crow’s nest and started traversing the glass ropes and chains to the all-but-invisible glass ships, “no, I don’t really expect to.”

The path to Astronomia was a staircase carved from moonstone harvested in October, when the moon was full and orange-red. It burned Danny’s eyes to look at and feet to walk upon. Like many ghosts who fixated on things like astronomy, he adapted quickly and thoroughly to the spiritual dark.

This darkest twilight was built of delicate bubbles, whorls, and arches of glass, any of which could cradle a ghost, all of which could be phased through with impunity. There were no true roads here, but certain places were easier to travel through. Addresses were carved in the glass in glimmering, holographic sigils made from glass-caught starlight that humans would never be able to read, but Danny could understand with a glance. It was not silent in Astronomia, the high wind sung through the glass like the immense instrument it was, playing ethereal and eternal music that mirrored heaven.

As always, Danny was enraptured. Perhaps the stars here were not true stars, only their memory and imagination (or simulacra made from stripped ghost cores, he remembered with a shudder), but he felt so close here.

“Danny? Are you still with us?”

Danny started to reply, but realized he had forgotten, once again, that he had no mouth here.

A phantabulist played a story for a group of not-quite-children, characters made of carefully constructed light chasing each other about with vigour. Danny stopped for a while to watch the story, a parable about spiders and fish. They were common here, storytellers who plied their craft this way. The stories could be pressed into glass prisms and orbs that served as books and viewed even in other environs of the Ghost Zone.

He moved on, passing through a glass bubble full of ghosts that snatched at and stroked him as he passed by, leaving stars and dark clouds to swirl across his skin. His suit had long since smoothed over and sunk in. His skin was a thin surface, a membrane holding in liquid night. He was like smoke, like vapour, thin and easily overlooked.

The places he passed were homes, places of business, warehouses, and hotels, organized without any apparent reason. A phantabularium glowed like a struck match, snatches of story visible inside its walls. He walked by.

Eventually, he reached the palace at the city center.

The ghost who lived there was old. Older, perhaps, than Pandora. She filled the vessels of her palace in placid pools connected by crystalized threads and looping tubes. Seven round-bottom flasks, radiating outward, like the spheres of heaven. The music here was almost deafening.

This was Urania, Muse of Astronomy. Astronomia was her city, and subordinate to her will before all else.

Danny resisted the urge to kneel. He was not here as a supplicant, and they both knew it.

The lowest pool bubbled, and slowly a glass prism, a dodecahedron, floated to the top. Danny took it with careful hands and left Urania’s direct presence as quickly as possible.

Being near her was always difficult. She was the Muse of Astronomy, and she felt he did not indulge his second Obsession as much as was proper.

Indeed, she thought it should be his first.

(The starlight inside him pulsed. He was never sure how much influence Urania could exert on him when he visited Three Twilights, never sure how much the relationship between his passions shifted when he was here. He loved it here too much to stay away forever.)

Astronomia did not end all at once. Instead, as one walked farther from the palace, the delicate, clear glass was replaced by black sand. When Danny had feet again, and could feel the grains beneath them, he knew he was no longer in Astronomia, but on the Shores of Night. The Isles of the Moon were faintly visible in the distance, sea-spray framing them in silvery halos.

He felt human here. His breath moved in his lungs, and his skin rose in goosebumps, the sleeves of his t-shirt fluttering in the wind. The sea and the sky were the same, and twice as beautiful for it.

“Sorry for going silent on you there,” said Danny. “I keep forgetting I don’t have a mouth there.”

“How do you forget that?” asked Jack.

“I don’t know.” Danny shrugged, even though he knew Jack couldn’t see him. “Do you think the ectocam might be able to spot buried star pearls?”

[birthdaycakeplate]

I deleted the anon message because I’ve exhausted all my brain power, but someone sent me some Megop with ticklish Optimus-and all I can say is: Yes, absolutely, stranger. He is a sensitive boy boy, and I will exploit this for you.

✨Warnings in the tags✨ This is actually appropriately short for once 🥺

——— —————

One more day stuck in this ratty little tent, about two more stuck in a marginally bigger transport shuttle, and Optimus would be off this heatstroke of a planet and back on the Steelhaven.

“It was entirely unnecessary for you to come.” Megatron glowered, annoyed with Reflector comming him consecutive updates about their ETA more than anything.

Optimus didn’t bother looking up, eyes tracing the fresh outline of the falls below the burrow Reflector had found themselves in on his datapad.

“When exactly were you going to send us the finished product for this map?”

“Do you really need one?” Megatron asked, purely to be malicious.

“My men do all your exploring for you now. What use is it to you?”

Optimus didn’t entertain that painfully stupid jab with a response. He saddled his pad on his side for quick access and turned to shunt himself up in their pitiful tent for the time being.

To his dismay, Megatron followed. Unwilling to give him any escape from their week long spat that’d gotten considerably more aggressive a few cycles ago.

Maybe it was the heat. Maybe it was because Optimus made himself a fine target, despite his efforts to seem unfazed.

Maybe Megatron actually enjoyed this kind of play, though Optimus could hardly see the appeal. He much preferred their awkward, but genuine talks at fueling.

Wedged in a small tent barely capable of housing its two current occupants, Megatron took this opportunity to continue spurring him on while he was stuck there.

“Regardless of how mandatory your role here has been, would you care to remind me when you became a babysitter and forwent your status as a Prime entirely?”

“Well, you and I both know I was sent, because you give anybot else serious attitude and run them off. So, I don’t see why my presence here would be a surprise all at once.”

Megatron actually did look miffed. A rare thing.

“I don’t need any Autobot interference on these explorations in the first place-“

“But we need the finished map.”

“Certainly.” Megatron moved away from the entrance to tower over him.

“And at the virtuous sacrifice of reducing yourself to an errand boy.”

Typical.

Rude, abhorrent, typical Megatron.

Through feeding him ammunition, Optimus moved to sit on his narrow cot. He turned his back to the other and imagined himself back in his nice, cool room on the Steelhaven with all his datapads. Surrounded by the standard size and its dull grey glory -and not an ounce of comfortable furniture anywhere. Someplace he’d give his right servo to be right now.

Megatron would normally drop an argument when it resulted in a Prime clearly put out with him and reluctant to continue -it meant the fun banter that made their ‘conversations’ delightful would be lacking. No sport in that.

But with a single solar cycle left on this planet promising their freedom soon, Megatron felt emboldened to make the most out of their remaining moments together. That was, until the next expedition in a few more months.

He wouldn’t say he *liked* these particular circumstances comprising their time spent together, but they were the few instances their fates crossed paths.

Oh, how he longed for their time on Earth. Able to cause chaos in the nearest city and find Prime’s battle axe aimed at his faceplates in nanokliks.

He stalked over to the little Autobrat, flicking his finials back sensing his approach. He refused to turn, refused to acknowledge the other as little more than an annoying gnat than a once feared criminal warlord that’d turned the little bot inside out a few times over.

Youths... Go figure.

Megatron considered how best to provoke him into their verbal sparring once more when he spied the perfect opportunity on Optimus’ hip plate. The schematics he’d been guarding like a glitch-hawk.

“You need these for your precious Magnus so badly?” Megatron rumbled, already pleased to think about the uproar he was about to cause in the little Prime, and reached for the pad on his hip.

“Why don’t you just-“

“H-HEY~”

Megatron jerked his hand back and stared in genuine concern at the other’s outburst.

Goodness, had his claws grazed him? Had he touched him in an unwelcome way? He hadn’t meant to do *that* ever. Clearly he should have kept his servos to himself.

Then Optimus jumped to his stabilizers, clapped a palm over his hip and spun with wide optics. Looking at Megatron like he was the creature emerging from the murky depths they’d ran across about three oil expeditions ago. All terror and anticipation -expecting the other to lash out.

Which after that display, Megatron would never even think to harm the little- Oh.

*Oh*.

Now Megatron understood....

Just a look at the horrified, flushing face below him and he *knew* all about Optimus’ most unlikely secret.

He turned wicked optics upon the place at his hip he’d accidentally brushed trying to reach the schematics. It was almost too good to be true, and, ever thorough, Megatron would only let himself believe it with further proof.

“I’m sorry little one.” Megatron sounded absolutely not sorry at all.

He took a step forward -one being enough to close any distance between them in the tiny tent.

Optimus’ finials dipped low, sharp denta sinking into a plush lower lip.

“Did I startle you?” Megatron murmured.

“No!” Optimus hissed, now explicitly offended for this attempt at further humiliation. He was a Prime and a Primus-damned warrior!

He’d survived his spark extinguishing once, he’d defeated Megatron’s attempts at worldwide domination -two worlds at once even. He was not startled!

His hand gripped his sensitive hip a little tighter all the same.

“Aw...” Megatron crooned, followed by a sinful, knowing smirk.

“Unlikely.”

“Megatron!”

Optimus pried his hand away -a fatal mistake- to block the big hands coming out to grab him around the middle and keep some mockery of distance between them in this stuffy tent. All he effectively did was give Megatron an opening.

Claws extending beyond the natural limits of their skewering mercy grazed carefully over his sensitive hip joints in a scratching motion.

The noise Optimus made was undignified at best and mortifying at worst. And in Megatron’s opinion, the stuff of symphonies.

The smaller mech twisted, one knee jerking up and nailing Megatron in the thigh. The warlord couldn’t stop himself from grinning through the pain. Surely looking maniacal.

He scratched his claws up from quivering hips to a delicious spot along each side, receiving a squeal and venomous curse in reward.

Optimus glared through tears, promising painful death when this was all over, before the unrestrained screams overtook him, and he was both leaning in and away from his tormentor.

Megatron accepted his morbid fate in full, that was fair after all. No one should ever disrespect this precious, fearsome bot.

That said, he turned his absolute attention over to making more of those squeak-laugh-sobs bubble out of the little blue mech. The one sinking increasingly sharper claws of his own into Megatron’s servos as desperation took hold.

The Tarnish terror was about to smooth a stroke of his thumb along those slender, shivering hips once more when the light of the nearest star burst through the tent’s entry, signaling Reflectors’ return and the tent opening wide. The three, trying to shuffle in all at once, stopped and considered the sight before them.

Optimus’ finials shot up, optics wide, as he noticed the light filtering in, and the possibility of salvation shining with it. He looked between the three of them and threw pride as far out the evacuation tunnel as possible.

“Don’t leave me here! AH~ Don’t leave m- Please! I-“

And then the light faded away as the three made their speedy exit.

“Wait! WAI-AH!”

Megatron purred in enormous satisfaction to not have to have their little playtime cut short. Sweeping deft fingers around the seams of strong, elite framework that’d weathered much in its short lifecycle.

Optimus’ helm jerked back, a thigh hiking up Megatron’s hip in an effort to use the leverage to push away with it. A poor effort. It only drew him farther up into remarkably large hands -capable of bearing the brunt of his weight like he was little heavier than a case of polish.

———- ———-

The shuttle to take them back was stifled by Reflectors’ awkward looks and Lugnut, eager to see their lord as soon as possible after his trip away, prodding curiously about why Optimus looked like a mech thrown through the wringer for a bot given his necessities and a safe tent away from the heat. And why Megatron was obviously quite gleeful of this.

He ignored all of them, focusing instead on nursing the lingering tingle in his seams away and looking as furious as a bot who’d agreed to join the next expedition in another week after his violent assault so quickly could.

It was for the good of Cybertron, and that alone.

Megatron, delighting in the wayward idea that this might promise him the opportunity of turning his cheekplates pink again so soon, could stuff it.

Optimus had not found that tremendous ordeal amusing one bit. Not one.

——-

Me embarrassing myself for anonymous souls who deserve the world.

[heyitsyn]

Manager!Inarizaki

a/n: aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa i would put in all the reqs but there were so many people who requested for our fox babies that it would literally take up every space :”) and im happy to comply so here it is

AAAA LOOK THEY’RE SO CUTE OMG LIKE BLS BUT IM A RIN SIMP :’)

alkdfjlsdfi

sunarin simp is typing😍🍃💞..........

ogeiogeiogei

hehehehehe

so im actually just going to include the starting lineup like i knowwwww theres subs but im only most familiar with the regulars :(

okay so anyways!!

now

you might be wondering

how in the hell did you become the manager of these crackheads

from calm papi kita to psycho tsumu,

why are you their manager

you, the cute and shy and innocent not wittle first year, somehow became the manager of the powerhouse volleyball team of inarizaki high

it all started with our dear lovely samu

hehe bet you didnt see that coming

now we all know baby samu literally is the biggest foodie in the team and he constantly thinks about food 24/7 therefore there isnt much room in there for anything else except for volleyball

basically, 

the dude loves to eat

it just so happens that you made food

your family owned a cafe down the street from the school and you worked there after school to help your parents

now how does this tie in with samu you ask

this chile was so hungry that he had to skip practice

sending kita a quick text about doing a quick errand, he walked down the street on the hunt for a quick place to grab a bite

he totally ignored kita’s warning of cramps if he ate a lot then practiced but whatever food is life

it just so happens he stumbles upon your family’s cafe

when he entered, the smell of bread and food entered his nostrils causing this baby to just float right in

you were manning the register while your brother was at school so you smiled at the incoming figure of this familiar boy

and because you recognized him, you couldnt help but grin and gasp a little

‘oh! miya-senpai!’

you exclaimed and osamu was confused because he’s never seen you before but he thought you were probably a kouhai in school

you looked young and definitely not a face he’s seen before so he concluded you were most likely a first year

and you were really cute

like really

really

cute

that thought caused this babe to blink awkwardly and nod at your direction

‘uh, hi’

he greeted and you smiled at his awkward nature

‘what can i get you today, miya-senpai?’

he must’ve been busy looking at you to actually look at the menu behind you and he fumbled, rushing to find a food to get

‘wh-what do ya recommend?’

he asked and you paused then thought deeply

‘hmm, we have onigiris freshly made! and we also have milk bread thats really good!’

did you just-

did you just say onigiri?

‘yea ill take some onigiri’

he decided and you lit up

‘perfect! the total is-’

he completely blanked out because wow your smile was really pretty

‘miya-senpai? miya-senpai?’

you called out and he snapped out of it

‘oh, sorry, here’

he gave you the cash and you gave him back his change before wandering to the glass case where the savory foods were placed

you seemed to glide over and osamu watched you with fond eyes, interest bubbling in him

there was something about you that made him curious

but he just didnt know what

it confused him because maybe you were just someone he hasnt seen before and not the same fans he sees all the time

‘you’re really lucky, miya-senpai. i just finished making them minutes before you walked in’

you commented

this took him aback

‘you cook?’

he suddenly asked and you chuckled, soft and airy laughs filling the air

‘of course, senpai! learning to cook is an essential for a business like this’

and thus created a beautiful friendship

he would come over to eat nearly every day of the week while you would happily serve him

sometimes, he would even buy extra so you could eat with him

while you were talking, he noticed you lacked the accent others from there had and he thought you were not originally from hyogo

he learned that you were actually from miyagi and you moved here just this year

‘so, how ya liking it ‘round here?’

he asked one day, after swallowing his food

you thought about it before shrugging

‘i mean, its still the countryside so i guess everything’s the same. maybe the dialect? my neighbors have strong accents, haha’

samu chuckled

‘its common over here. ya sound a lot more from tokyo. my best friend’s from there, ya see’

you raised an eyebrow

‘hm?’

‘rin. suna rin is in the team and hes from tokyo so he sounds like a standard city boy. ill take ya to meet him sometime’

nah he really wasnt

he wanted to keep you away from the others as much as possible, especially his brother, because he was a greasy mf

but that didnt really work out into plan because you approached him in school the other day

you saw him and you hurriedly ran to him where he stood with his twin and some guy

tsumu saw you coming from behind his brother and he smirked before nodding at you

‘samu, ya got a girlie running for ya’

samu turned, confused, until he saw your adorable face

‘y/n. whats up?’

you grinned

‘you left your team jacket, miya-senpai’

the red jacket was clutched in your hands and the two boys behind him shared a surprised look because osamu never mentioned a girlfriend

and with the way you were holding his jacket, the two boys immediately jumped into conclusions

well

more like atsumu started whining at osamu for not telling him he had a girl

‘i thought we were brothers! brothers for life!’

samu just awkwardly stands there and he has a sheepish look in his eyes that were looking at you apologetically

‘sorry about him, y/n. but thank you for returning it’

you handed him the fabric before smiling

‘it was a good thing you had a spare one for me, miya-senpai. who knew the rain would come so suddenly’

osamu sighed then playfully poked your forehead with his finger

‘how many times do i have to tell you to call me by my first name? i really dont want to hear anything that associates me with this bastard’

atsumu socked osamu at the shoulder causing the gray-haired boy to look away from you and start yelling at his brother

‘touch me again! see what happens then!’

‘yer just showing off for yer girlie! ya aint doin nothing!’

suna shook his head before turning to you with a sympathetic look

‘you really want to be with this guy? him and this idiot are practically a package’

you tilted your head

‘im,,, not with miya-senpai?’

suna blinked

‘but he gave you his jacket. he doesnt even give it to me. i guess its not part of best friend privileges’

at the mention of best friend, you lit up

‘oh! you must be sunarin! the tokyo boy!’

baby rin choked a little at the sight of your grin and he scrunched his eyebrows while awkwardly raising the corner of his lips to a smile

‘you,, uh,,, you know me?’

like it was the most obvious thing in the world, you nodded

‘at first, when miya-senpai told me, i didnt know who you were. but! youre actually very popular, suna-senpai! too bad i never saw you until today, though, because we’re in different floors. but! a lot of girls talk about you!’

poor rin didnt know how to react to that because he didnt want to look flustered but he didnt want to look cocky either

so he just opted to smile gently

‘oh. well, in that case. let me introduce myself to you. suna rintaro’

can we normalize suna being an actual nice guy instead of the cold stand-offish player bastard?

you shook his hand and said your name as well

like samu, he asked you to call him by his first name too since you were close to his friend therefore should try being close to you too

speaking of samu, him and atsumu reduced the violence to just bickering and they were still teasing each other even after you and suna talked

the coochi bangs boy rolled his eyes then slapped atsumu’s arm to gain their attention

‘yo. theres a girl here. try and be nice and civil’

atsumu seems like he forgot your existence because his eyes brightened at the sight of you

‘oh! heya!’

you nervously smiled at him because his hyperness and overall atsumu-ness was quite overwhelming

‘h-hello, miya-senpai’

atsumu pouted at how apprehensive you sounded

‘eyyy, why are you being nervous, girlie? im just samu, yanno! same face and everything!’

osamu knew you well enough that you were kinda awkward and you didnt know how to approach a hyper person like his brother so he naturally saved you

‘hey, y/n, the bell’s about to ring any moment now so try to not be late and ill be sure to see you later. do you want me to pick you up from your class and we can walk together?’

to you, it was just a simple offer from a friend but to the two, that was the confirmation of your relationship with the wing spiker

‘wahh, atsumu, your brother really is better than you. he knows how to treat girls good’

atsumu took offense to this

‘excuse you! i would be too if there were genuine girls in this school!’

osamu’s aggressive blinking was his signal for you to hurry along and you noticed causing you to chuckle before bidding goodbye

‘it was nice meeting you, rin-senpai. and,,, you too, miya-senpai. samu-senpai, later at 3?’

osamu softly smiled while nodding

‘later at 3’

the TEASING HE FACED from the two was unbearable and despite the amount of times he denied it, they were still teasing him

‘samu’s got a girlfriend~! samu’s got a girlfriend~!’

‘tsumu, i swear to god if you dont shut your trap’

‘imagine having a girlfriend’

true to his word, osamu was waiting for ya at the bottom of the stairwell from the one that led to the second floor, absentmindedly kicking some invisible thing in the floor

you were fixing your bag straps on your shoulders when you saw him at the end of the hallway and you couldnt contain your excitement seeing the grey haired boy

‘samu-senpai!!’

you shouted, getting his attention that made him whip his head up

the blank face contorted into a small smile and he raised a hand

‘yo’

when you made it next to him, you were grinning really big and samu felt flustered at your happy face

so he cupped your chin with his large hand that allowed him to squeeze both cheeks

‘cutie’

he mumbled but you didnt catch it, too busy trying to get him to stop squishing

you were originally supposed to go walk over to the cafe but you didnt know that osamu was actually trying to skip practice and he was trying to hide from the members

okay first off, i dont think samu would ever skip practice willingly bc he has the same drive as miya atsumu but he also just wants to spend time with you asklfjldfjdlk

but the loud mouth tsumu saw you guys as you turned a hallway

you were busy talking to osamu about some cooking chef guy gordon and he was nodding and talking but then he heard a loud shout

‘SAMU!’

osamu babie didnt know what was happening so he protectively placed an arm in front of you and hurriedly shoved you behind him in case something happened

duh you didnt know what was happening either so you were clutching his jacket and peeked from his arm to see atsumu stomping over with suna trailing behind him, seemingly texting on his phone

osamu lazily glared at his brother

‘what’

atsumu blanched and sped walk faster until he was right in front of him to yell 

‘IM TIRED OF YER EXCUSES! JUST CUS YA GOT YASELF A GIRLIE DUN MEAN YA GET TO SKIP PRACTICE!’

you furrowed your eyebrows

you tugged at his jacket and osamu turned to peer down at you and he gulped, preparing himself to hear your scolding

it wasnt the first time you scolded him as you just told him off the other day for not eating enough vegetables and fruits to balance out his unhealthy love for onigiri and sweets

‘samu-senpai,,, you told me you guys were taking an off week. why are you skipping practice today’

you were genuinely worried and you didnt seem to understand why he did that but the other two did and atsumu didnt hesitate

‘CUS HE WANTS TA SPEND TIME WITH YA, Y/N! BASTARD CANT EVEN BOTHER TO TELL ME THE REASON! YER SICK?! WHAT THE HELL EXCUSE IS THAT! YA NEVER GET SICK!’

poor suna is just watching this go down and he felt bad that you were caught in the middle

so he suggested a compromise

you watched sunarin push atsumu’s chest to make him back off and he gently smiled at you before looking at the two

‘how about we all go to practice and if y/n-chan wants, she can wait and osamu can spend time with her when hes done? besides, atsumu, you know osamu has been doing good on his spikes. maybe we can persuade coach and kita to let him off early since hes,,, quote unquote,, ‘sick’’

osamu debated but you emerged from behind him

‘sure! samu-senpai would love to go to practice! right, samu-senpai?’

you smiled at him but it was a stern smile

you just wanted him to go to practice because you knew now of how important volleyball was to the school and they needed to get all their time and energy to win the sport

atsumu agreed to this plan but osamu was forced to accept it

simp

just for extra measure, sunarin and tsumu walked behind you guys to the gym so you and samu had time to talk

you were chiding him of course because why would he waste time with spending time with you

‘just wanted to see ya, y/n-chan’

he winked but you pouted and wrinkled your nose

‘you cant weasel yourself out of this, samu-senpai’

osamu has never heard you scold him before so he was like o.o but inside he was like,,, hot

the gym was already on full practice and kita saw the second years from the door

aran LAKDJFLAKSFJLASDKF ARAN AAAAAAAAAAAAA nudged mimi with a smirk

as much as they loved the underclassmen, watching them get told off by kita was too funny to not watch

but what caused them to curiously peer behind the three was the appearance of a girl

a girl?

‘why’s a girl with them?’

aran mumbled and mimi shrugged, but also intrigued

you were behind osamu and he could tell you were nervous because youve heard of the reputation of the team

they were seen as practically as popular as the basketball team and everyone worshipped them

they were who put the school’s name in the map and you were about to meet the legends of inarizaki

thankfully, atsumu and rin walked to the front of you two so you and samu were at the back

samu didnt look at you but he reached behind him to open his palm as a signal for you to take it

you gratefully grabbed it and leaned closer in case something happens

‘KITA-SAN! WE GOT EM!’

atsumu shouted and suna chided him for being really loud

‘you’re late’

an even voice said in front of them and you leaned over to the side to see who it was from

your eyes bulged out of your head because one, wow he was handsome, and two, he looked like someone from miyagi

YALL KNOW WHO IM TALKING ABOUT BYE-

‘oh wow’

you mumbled absentmindedly and samu looked at you at the corner of his eye before scoffing

your face was totally bright red and your eyes were super wide

kita? really? of all guys? it was kita?

‘SORRY! was samu who took so long!’

atsumu lowered his voice down but he didnt tell the captain of his brother’s plans to skip

‘he has a stomachache and he was at the nurse’s office’

suna smoothly came up with a lie and he might look cool and calm, his hands were clasped behind him with it clenching his phone

your eyes left kita to notice that habit and you had a small smile because it was another reassurance that these boys werent as high and legendary as everyone made them to be

in the end they were still just students and boys

they were still human

‘oi, osamu, who’s the girl?’

aran finally bit the bullet and asked the question everyone has been wondering since the beginning

both you and samu stiffened at the direct question to you but he nodded

‘this is l/n y/n’

he introduced and you raised a shaky hand as a greeting but let go of samu to bow slightly to your seniors

‘hello, my name is l/n y/n, i’m a first year’

a few players also raised a hand but it was mimi who spoke at last

‘nice to meet you’

kita nodded at you but turned to the three

‘why is she with you? are you skipping again, osamu?’

again?

osamu inwardly cringed 

obviously, kita was sharper than they would think because he easily saw through suna’s lie

he also knew that samu never really got sick

he watched the younger shovel 5 bowls of ramen and still have enough room eat a plate of mochi and he was perfectly fine

it was silent between the four of you and atsumu and suna were looking at each other as they ran out of lies

dang they even planned the entire walk of what to say to kita

you looked between the twins and their friend before speaking up

‘samu-senpai really did have a stomachache. i was-uh-helping the nurse! um, i want to be a doctor or a nurse when i grow up! and-’

you started to ramble but because you were trying to lie and it was never your forte

ALKESDJFLKD Y/N I NEED TO TAKE YOU UNDER MY WING WE NEED TO TEACH YOU THIS IMPORTANT LIFE SKILL OMG

‘we were tryin to convince y/n to be a manager. thats why we took so long’

atsumu huffed

you froze

a what?

a manager?

you were genuinely truthful about wanting to go into a medical profession but not a manager

you were already a manager before and you didnt really want to do it again

kita was inspecting suna’s and atsumu’s and osamu’s faces to see a trace of dishonesty

you saw him raise a dark eyebrow and you knew then that these three cannot tell a lie to save their life

so you nodded frantically making kita look at you

‘mhm! they asked me! miya-san wanted someone they knew already so they asked me because i’m samu-senpai’s friend! so here i am!’

your awkward smile and stiff outstretched arms might’ve seem suspicious but kita moved his gaze from you to atsumu and the blonde nodded

‘yea! ya’ve been talkin bout bein worried of next year cus yall aint here no more so i got sum person responsible enough fer us!’

STOPP I HATE IT HERE I CANT SEEM TO WRITE OUT ATSUMU’S ACCENT LIKE AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

after the longest 3 seconds, kita finally nodded and closed his eyes warily

‘alright. l/n-san, come here’

you froze at the way he said your name but suna was kind enough to walk over to your place beside samu to gently push you forward to kita

‘its okay’

he mumbled and you were so thankful because that gave you enough motivation and strength to keep going

your height was staggering between these men and kita seemed to tower you

but you kept an even and calm face 

‘yes?’

you asked

kita looked at you and he stared at your face, pupils moving as a sign that he was inspecting your eyes and every feature 

oh my god you shouldve plucked your nose hairs this morning

before you could feel more self-conscious, he spoke

‘you said you want to be a doctor?’

‘well, more like a nurse but um same thing’

‘you know medical stuff? know how to treat injuries?’

‘yes. i was a manager back in my hometown so i have experience’

‘where are you from?’

‘miyagi’

‘ya familiar with shiratorizawa?’

you cringed but nodded

‘yes’

‘are you from there?’

‘yes’

the three stooges from behind you had wide eyes at this sudden revelation because that was a school theyve played before

even the last interhigh, they were familiar of how strong that school was

the eagle and the guess monster

and you were their manager before? 

must’ve been during middle school as you were just a first year

‘so you know how plays and stats work?’

‘yes. anything you want me to do, im familiar and capable to do it’

god why are you saying this

you didnt even want to be a manager in the first place

yet here you are again

you were getting flashbacks from the war ajkfdfd

kita looked at you silently once more before finally standing up straight and pointing you to their coach who was watching the whole thing with crossed arms and furrowed brows

‘there. talk to him and you can finalize everything. i think its too early to say this but nonetheless, welcome to the team, y/n’

AND THUS STARTED YOUR JOURNEY WITH THE BOYS

akldjklfjsdlakj

IT WAS ALL BUILT ON LIES BUT WHATEVER

AS LONG AS NO ONE DIED ISSOKAY

no but really dont tell lies in general yall, maybe white lies, but try not to do that

OKAY MOVING ON

MOMENTS WITH THE TEAM

duh you are much much closer to samu than the rest of the team so you tended to stick to him more

like you would go to him first if you needed something or if you wanted someone to help you with the crate, he would be your go-to

that would make atsumu whine because he felt that samu was better than him

‘oi, y/n! im really good with ma arms! i can bench 300 yanno?’

you politely smiled and nodded

‘thank you for telling me, miya-san’

then you would proceed to nudge samu’s arm yum to ask for help

butbutbutbut

dont worry!!!!

you do end up warming up to him

for my atsumu stans, yall tend to go to him when samu is either busy or you just need a good laugh

this mans will embarrass himself both on purpose or accidentally to make you laugh lmao

you also have extra bottles for his medicine because he has adhd and the guys are like,,,, yo chill

and duh atsumu would forget to take them so youre practically his reminder

we all know how tsumu was practically attacked that one time when he insulted those girls, right?

yall may have forgiven but i will never forget >:(

well, during matches, you as their manager, always have to tell the stands to be quiet when atsumu is serving 

but no one told you this

you kind of figured it out during your time like when his eye would twitch if samu was talking to suna too loudly or when he would close his eyes to shut off his hearing because of the loud spikes on the other side

you noticed it

so you would go to the stands and nicely tell them that if they see atsumu serving, to be quiet

‘i understand you are all excited when he does his serve but we would all benefit more you could release that excitement inside and silently’

*cue atsumu pretending to faint in sunas arms*

OH SPEAKING OF SUNA

YES I SAID THAT I DONT REALLY LIKE FANON SUNA BC,,,

WEED

AND DRUGS

AND RUDE 

JUST OVERALL

NOT RECOMMENDED

but canon suna :”)

as a player, suna is seen as really manipulative and snarky and witty

he loves to poke fun at the other team, even his own, and just all-around annoying

but off-court

suna is a very quiet and reserved person

totally different from the one who talks and yaps constantly to the other side of the net

and hes a really pure person in some topics

like he would turn red when you would compliment his new picture that he posted in inasgram 

PLEASE SUNA IS TOTALLY A PHOTOGRAPHER LIKE HE TAKES PICTURES OF SUNSETS AND STUFF

or when you would offer to bandage him up for him because it’s hard to do it himself and your hand would touch his

dont tell anyone this but suna is very relieved that you and samu weren’t dating

thats all

thats all for now

;)

OOOO kita!!!

okay so kita is the captain, right?

but he doesnt play

like he plays rarely and aran is usually the on-court captain

this causes you and him to be at the sidelines a lot

he would tell you what he thinks would happen next or what the next plan should be and you would provide your own input

in a way, he was the one who really taught you the mechanics of volleyball and he would tell you the different tricks that techniques that the twins came up with 

what makes you really soft and fall for him is when he starts to compliment his players

his pride in aran for being one of the top aces that has led them to nationals

his pride in mimi for being able to go on the longest on court and not be tired

his pride on akagi for being able to receive each ball and successfully give it to their setter

his pride on hitoshi for being the one who could handle the team personality wise and his plans for him to be his successor

his pride on ATSUmu for being the best setter he’s ever seen and his drive to get better no matter what

his pride on samu for being so strong and still getting stronger despite his dream career to be something not volleyball-related

his pride on sunA being motivated enough to help the team and make sure everyone knows that every ball can be stopped

like pls you almost cry all the time when you hear kita saying that because he seems to not say it to the others but only to you

it makes you happy that kita relies so much on these guys as much as they rely on him

OH MY GOSH OMIMI

okay

so omimi ren is a very quiet and calm character

hes kinda like suna where they dont really say much but when they do, its usually important and not irrelevant like atsumu

and he didnt say much when you got inducted in the team as a manager

like he just stared at you and you were just like o.o

ngl he did scare you a bit bc of his tall height looming over you and the way his dark eyes just pierces you through your soul

hes the type that you cannot willingly tell a lie to him bc you know he will find out one way or another

he can see right through you

maybe thats what makes him such a good middle blocker

but you started to warm up to him really quick and he would sometimes walk you home if the others cant mainly bc he knows his appearance will make anyone back off

its the simple things that make you appreciate him

two words: ginjima hitoshi

he is so two-faced

NO LISTEN BEFORE YALL BEAT ME UP JUST HEAR ME OUT

you know how like the 4 second years (PLEASE I KNOW THERES A GUY NAMED YUTO BUT LIKE I DONT KNOW MUCH ABOUT HIM AAAAAA TELL ME IF YOU WANT HIM IN HERE)

like suna, the twins, and hitoshi

the twins are the annoying ones who causes trouble, suna is the one taking pictures and evidence while cheering them on, and hitoshi is the one trying to break it up

BUT

i think that hitoshi is really the worst out of the 4 and he keeps in because who else would be the responsible one of the bunch

hello? they were about to be third years next year like are we really gonna go on with possibly a miya twin or suna being captain?

no

so he tries to force down his inner chaos to take on the role of the responsible one

BUTTTTT

you try to release that inner chaos

you sometimes hear him egging on atsumu under his breath like ‘do it’ but quietly so no one hears him

and youre like

?-?

please? we’re not? supposed? to allow? atsumu? to eat? and swallow? a whole? raw egg?

at first, duh he was also like that with you but you want him to be himself and be comfortable with you so you work hard to make him open up

now

you kinda regret it

because he now wants to go through the mcdonalds drive-thru, with no car, just to get mcflurries

you stared down at hitoshi from your bedroom window with a confused expression

‘but? you dont have a car?’

he grins up at you

‘but i got a CART! they said as long as it’s a car and car is in the word cart and the extra ‘t’ is just a bonus!’

‘hitoshi no-’

AAAAAA MICHIMICHI BABY

so akagi is the libero of the team and he is the one responsible for the make sure the ball doesnt touch the ground type of thing

you get really worried about him bc he does a lot of flying saves and his knees always get roughed up and such

so you try and stitch him up as much as you can like you even send him sites for good warm packs to buy

something that isnt known about akagi is that he, like atsumu, really likes to cook

but more like

he bakes

he bakes as a stress reliever and its like his meditation time

you go over to his house a lot to go bake something w him and share it to the guys later on

during ina get-togethers, him and samu are in charged of the food while youre the sous chef

SPEAKING OF SAMU

we forgot about him for a sec aldfjklkfdjlk 

it was all thanks to him

because of him, you became a manager despite your initial refusal to become one again

you made friends with more people and you were able to have a fun high school life because of it

because of him

osamu does get a little sad or irritated whenever the guys start to hog you up

like he has to push down the tantrum of ‘I SAW HER FIRST!’

he wants to be the better twin lmao

he gets really butthurt when you would go to someone else even during the middle of your conversation

like he would be talking to you on the side but suna calls you over for tape and youre going

he pouts and atsumu teases him about it causing him to bark at him

LOL HE BARKS

okay so training camp

i think therell be an imagine for this so ill try to not make it as detailed

lets just say its a mess

suna really wants to go hiking bc he wants to go the top of the mountain for pictures of the stars and stuff

but atsumu whines of the bugs and possible creatures in there

this causes osamu to tease him and call him a coward and a wimp

and leads to a fight which aran tries to break up but gets sucked in anyways

and omimi just stands by and watches but he intends to intervene if it gets too much

then akagi gets taken by suna to go the hike with him even though hes scared of bugs so hes whimpering and complaining

while kita and hitoshi are off in the kitchen talking about new grains of flour and stuff

where are you?

youre at the lodge, drinking your f/d (favorite drink) and watching all this go down bc at training camp, it’s every man for themselves

there is a lot of bonding times as a team bc these boys may seem like all they think about is volleyball but they like to do something else outside of that

what they love the most is going to the beach

not only do they get to have fun, they get to relax and see you in a swimsuit alkfdjkfj

especially when kita accidentally falls asleep? they bury him with sand and make him look like a mermaid

because they are players who work out so great bodies duh

and they get so much attention for that

but they all mainly pay attention to you and oh my

youve expressed not being comfortable in wearing a swim suit and watch these guys absolutely start throwing compliments at you

but the third years would softly tell you that it’s okay not to wear one bc all that matters is if youre comfortable or not

HELP I WANT AN ARAN AAAAAAAAAAA

OH SO

we know how kita’s family are rice farmers, right?

well

he farms to help his granny and sometimes, youre the only one who’s free enough to go and help him 

so you go over there all the time and granny really loves you bc one, you take care of her shin and thats beyond everything, and two, youre reliable and make shin laugh and such

like one time, you were carrying a basket to the back deck and granny saw you from the kitchen

she smiled before waddling over to the door so she could talk to you

‘y/n-chan!’

you whipped around quickly at the call of your name before grinning and hurrying up to her

‘yes, granny?’

she gave you a bottled water then gestured down to the field where shin was tirelessly tending to the rice

‘please give that to shinsuke. poor boy has been pushing himself too hard with the field and his sport and not taking care of himself’

she chided but there was a certain hint in her tone that made her sound so proud of her grandson

you looked down at the bottle and squeezed it

‘kita-san works hard not for himself, but for everyone else. it makes me sad when he neglects his health and tends to the team instead. so dont worry, baa-chan! i’ll take care of kita-san for him! for you!’

nah bc granny was already gossiping with her neighborhood ladies about this beautiful girl that shin got and how they should be jealous their grandsons don’t have someone like you

OOOOOOO 

since your family owns a cafe, the guys goes there all the time

its kinda like the ramen shop for the seijoh boys

they go there mainly to see you even outside of practice ANDDD

they wanna look good in front of your family

like tsumu suddenly knows cleanliness bc he cleans up the mess on the table or kita is no longer an introvert as hes now talking to your mom about the benefits of rice water and her not needing one bc her hair is already beautiful

PLEASE WHAT

and even during the summer, theyve helped out a lot when it was busy lunch times and you couldnt handle it yourself

GOSH IMAGINE SAMU BEING YOUR MOM’S APPRENTICE AND HANDSOME BOYS TAKING YOUR ORDERS WHILE SOME ARE CARRYING HEAVY TRAYS THAT MAKE THEIR ARMS POP

okay imma stop now

OH DONT GET ME STARTED DURING THE DEFEAT WITH KARASUNO

I DONT CARE YALL CAN HATE ME FOR SAYING THIS BUT KARASUNO SHOULDNT HAVE WON LIKE INARIZAKI WERE LITERALLY THE SECOND PLACE IN NATIONALS AND COMPETED AGAINST I T A C H I Y A M A

LIKE WHAT

OKAY ANYWAYS

everyone was already down and moody bc of the loss

and you wanted to be at the back bc you didnt know how to handle the situation

in your time as their manager, not once have you seen them lose

during those 10 months of being a manager, you have not once seen them be defeated during a game even with practice matches

then with those nobodies?

karasuno?

last time you checked, karasuno went down under when coach ukai retired

so having them lose was a real shock

and a really bad event

there was a certain air around you all during the bus ride to the hotel which made the entire time very uncomfortable

everyone finished their crying either in the locker rooms or the bathroom so all that was left was their red eyes

the coach sent everyone off to bed and although they were allowed more days to stay, they all collectively chose to just go home and keep those excused days as a rest day

‘we all would like to just stay at home and recharge’

kita’s request was everyone else’s, even yours, as you were both worried and tired for the boys

so that night, the coaches were able to book train tickets for everyone the next day back home

you stayed up, watching tv in your own room out of boredom because the group chat was quiet and you were too tired to do anything else

the next day, everyone 

osamu claimed your shoulder and he held your hand tight with his

his breathing was ragged and even with his closed eyes, the redness around them made it obvious he had been crying

the bus that was filled with excitement before, became quiet and the sound of the engine and wheels took over the silence

you thought samu had fallen asleep so you raised your free hand to stroke his hair

‘hey y/n?’

you flinched at the surprise but hummed 

‘imma tell him today. later, but today’

his voice was low and he was murmuring to hint that this was the extra sensitive topic you both discussed a few days ago at the cafe

you nodded but made sure he knew that no matter, he still got you

the coaches were upset and mad at the loss

but in the end, they all realized that this was the last game the boys would play as a team

sure, they could have practice matches and they could play again together in the future but nothing would change the atmosphere and feeling of playing the important matches 

this was the team that brought them closest to nationals with placing second out of the entire country

they were a good team that somehow got defeated

but the coaches were still proud

they didnt even yell at the boys to take laps and instead brought them into a team meeting

you stood beside the coaches, your own sniffles with everyone else, and listened to them talk

‘-year has been the most productive this school’s team has had in decades. i hope you all are proud of yourselves as we are proud of you. you lost so you are no longer in the competition and we talk about it tomorrow. but for now, go home and take a rest because tomorrow, we will be running laps and drills and miss y/n will be timing you until you pass out from exhaustion’

you blankly looked at the coaches bc you thought this would be a heartwarming talk but quickly turned into a threat

‘but thats for tomorrow. so go home and rest up. expect what is to come’

you were just wanting to leave lmao

like you wanted to hurry home and make something for the guys to eat tomorrow

just do something to make them at least smile

the guys were quietly packing up and you watched them with trembling eyes at their dismissal

you wanted them to stay longer

stay here and laugh and mess around

like tsumu poking kita and pretending he didnt

or mimi talking about something and aran staring blankly at him but he’s really sleeping with his eyes open and startling him awake

‘guys!’

you shouted

they all stopped and turned to look at you

‘hm?’

hitoshi asked

you hurriedly looked around to find something to stall them here and you noticed the cherry blossom tree that’s blooming 

must be the time of the year

‘l-lets! have a-take a picture! outside! by the tree!’

you pointed and they looked at each other

you were acting strangely

but they were simps for you so they just nodded and went outside

they didnt even complain and went to stand out in front of the tree

you had your phone and pulled it to the camera app to raise it to get the team in the frame

they looked sad and tired and worn out but they were still trying to joke around and have natural smiles

‘closer, you guys! bunch in closer!’

you motioned with one hand but they stopped

‘um? y/n? aren’t you gonna join us?’

ren asked but you shook your head

‘its? for you guys? besides, no one will take it for us, silly’

the boys insisted on you prop it up on a bench over there because they wanted you there with them

‘hey, come here! lets all be in it!’

aran shouted and you had no choice but to follow them

the boys had to stand closer to the camera as the bench was a ways ahead of the tree but dont worry, the tree is still there

they wanted you in the front bc they were all taller than you but they really wanted to showcase you

you were their manager and the person who took care of them

they treasure you so much

‘smile!!!’

someone shouted and the timer hit zero and the picture was taken

sure, their school’s motto was that they didnt need things like memories

to not have anything tying you down to the past and to challenge yourself with everyone focusing on the future ahead

in years from now, you could just be another thing from their past and nothing else

but they would be damned if that happened

any fragment of you to remind them of the best time of their youth and the person who loved them more than anyone else did

so yea, sure they wanted to represent their school’s motto

but this time

they can make an exception

a/n: HII!!!! IM BACK AND SUDDENLY IM ABLE TO WRITE AND FINISH THIS I SWEAR I CANT BELIEVE IT TOOK ME THIS LONG TO PUBLISH THIS I CANT WITH THIS YALL IM LOWKEY DISAPPOINTED IN MYSELF AND IM ASHAMED IM SO SORRY

[thefirstknife]

Some of the more interesting bits of today's reset and dialogues. I loved this from Mara. She acknowledges her participation in steering Uldren towards his downfall AND she realises that she will have to do better with him in the future. This is from the ending dialogue when you finish the exotic quest for the Ager's Scepter.

I want to mention something from the start of the week because I've seen people get angry (but when do they not when it comes to Mara?)

Long post under read more:

It's about the discussion she and Ikora have at the terminal. Hot take, but both Mara and Ikora are right and wrong in the argument. Transcript:

Mara: "How long have your Hidden been privy to Uldren's resurrection?" Ikora: "Long enough to watch over him in your absence." Mara: "And you didn't direct him home. Why?" Ikora: "There was a concern he'd pick up some old habits." Mara: "You know the Garden made him sick. Riven twisted his mind. Eris would have seen it. She is not so easily deceived by skin-deep tricks." Ikora: "It's true I made mistakes, out of an idea of justice... out of grief. Are you leveling this same scrutiny toward Petra? Wasn't she supposed to be watching his grave?" Mara: "Petra has paid her dues. The Vanguard murdered him and has yet to pay theirs." Ikora: "We both lost family. I am sorry for my part in yours, but... Crow has been treated --" Mara: "My brother is dead. He was exhumed; his body twisted into a caricature. You had your vengeance." Ikora: "Is that what you're after? Cayde... I still feel that grief like a stone caught in my chest. Some days, it's more pronounced than others. Vengeance didn't erode that grief." Mara: "Then tell me. Who am I to blame? Who sent him to Savathun's clutches? Who bludgeoned Uldren into a scared animal and drove him from his home?" Ikora: "You did, Mara. And those Guardians that hurt him, did so out of misguided anger. Don't make the same mistake. Don't make my mistake."

This is some heavy stuff and there's a lot going on. First, I like that Mara doesn't respond at the end. It's uncharacteristic for her. It shows that Ikora's words did something to her. This is evident in the exotic quest later which I've already put at the beginning of the post. She's had time to think and she's admitting the part she played.

I dislike some of Ikora's arguments a lot. First, "concern that he'd pick up some old habits" goes entirely against the Vanguard policy and belief that Guardians are new people. They were only concerned because of bias towards Uldren due to what he's done. And Crow knows this! He said so last week when he wondered why is he the only Guardian judged by his past life. No one else is subjected to the same way of thinking. This is the reason why Guardians aren't supposed to dig around their past lives. Obviously with Crow, there's no way for him to avoid it, but the argument that, if he knew, he'd just magically become Uldren (and not just base!Uldren, but murderer!Uldren who will... I don't know, go after Ikora and Zavala or the innocent people in the City?) really shows how much the Vanguard mistreated Crow.

I also dislike the move to Petra. As Mara says, Petra has paid her dues. She really has. Let's not forget that Uldren was not just some guy to her or just her Prince; he was her friend. She had to watch him spiral out of control due to things she couldn't help him with, she had to make the choice to put him away until Mara comes back and at the end she had to make the choice to kill him. This trauma has shaped her.

The Vanguard hasn't paid any dues. That's kinda the whole point of Mara's questioning. Ikora tries to explain that this was due to grief and losing family, but pray tell Ikora, has Mara not lost family too? Mara mentions this immediately as expected.

Ikora is however right to say that it was ultimately Mara's actions that led to the situation we're currently in. The Vanguard had no say in Awoken royal family affairs. Mara knows this, she said as much in the past few weeks and other lore in general: she spoke at length about the distance she pushed between them out of perceived necessity, the need to shape Uldren in a way to make him less like himself (since she disliked his recklessness and dangerous behaviours), but ultimately that only made things worse. She's aware that his venture into the Black Garden was fuelled by Uldren's need to prove himself. Ironically, in an effort to make him loyal and devoted, Mara pushed him into more recklessness instead of stopping it. She's aware of this. Asking Ikora "who am I to blame" was just waiting to be roasted.

But Mara is also right to ask about how the Vanguard treated both Uldren and Crow. How they washed their hands from killing him "officially" by hiding behind the Guardian, how nobody in the Tower answered for this. Their treatment of Crow as well: forcing him into hiding, isolating him. Excusing all the suffering he felt at the hands of the Guardians as "misguided anger." The torture he endured from Guardians just for showing his face was so much more than just "misguided anger" and Mara is right to feel heated and enraged when she talks about this and when she asks her questions. She expressed similar distaste and anger in a voice line with Glint in regards to how the Spider treated Crow.

I got an interesting dialogue at the end of my Shattered Realm run which also made me really irritated on behalf of both Crow and Mara when it comes to the Vanguard. Ikora asks Crow why didn't he send his latest report and Crow replies that he's had a lot going on and a lot to deal with. Which is true! He's not the Drifter who doesn't send reports out of spite; Crow genuinely wants to help but he's struggling with a lot of things that we can't even begin to unravel. He deserves patience and understanding. However, the following then ensues.

Ikora:

Crow:

Ikora:

This last part is a nice sentiment. But excuse me. Crow has literally been resurrected, isolated, tortured, enslaved and then "rescued" only to be thrust into a cage in the Tower and given "responsibilities." He is not obliged to be the Vanguard's errand boy. It's honestly quite rude from Ikora to tell him that he has to take his responsibilities seriously. The man hasn't lived a single day in his life without anxiety over whether he'll be tortured to death in the street if he shows his face.

I know the Vanguard gave him protection from the Spider and stuff to do (which he enjoys) and accepted him into their ranks. That's all good. But there's very little empathy here that acknowledges the life he's lived. Crow deserves to experience things that aren't isolation, imprisonment and following orders.

And most of all, he deserves to know the truth. Something the Vanguard has denied him for almost a year now. I know Savathun's schemes were involved and specifically, they were involved through impersonating Osiris which made a lot of people turn a blind eye. But now that this is known?

Crow can't share his burdens without knowing the truth. That's the whole problem. Everybody, except him, knows who he was. Everyone looks at him and treats him through that lens. He can't unburden himself without being told half-truths and being denied information. His burdens exist precisely because he doesn't know while everyone else does. So while the sentiment is nice, it reads more like a "that sucks buddy" than a genuine offer to help him with what is really bothering him.

On the other hand, obviously sharing the truth is difficult. His past life is more complicated than for most other Guardians. He's been through things that other Guardians haven't. The situation is complex on every single level and every character has a reason for the choices they've made.

Sometimes those choices are wrong and they are mistakes. And Mara isn't the only one who made the wrong choices and mistakes, consciously and unconsciously. It's a disservice to the complexity of the situation, Ikora, the Vanguard and Uldren to boil everything down to "Mara bad." Doesn't make for a compelling story.

That's what I wanted to address in detail because on the surface, it's easy to just dismiss either of the character you dislike more. And that's just reducing the story to a spectrum of black and white that Destiny really, ironically, isn't about.

[archies-litterbox]

Home

Summary: Some times when Douxie called the castle his home, and one time Merlin realized his son saw the castle as his home whether he was ready to process that or not (and he wasn’t).

Words: 2000

A/N: I got this done! I actually challenged myself by making sure each little segment of the fic was EXACTLY 500 words, and I had a lot of fun! hope you like it <3

[CW: Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, Nightmares (there’s way more softness in this than the CW makes it look I swear-)]

--

The typical chatter of the marketplace was overshadowed by Hisirdoux’s skipping steps, and those were overshadowed by the moppet humming a little tune to himself that Merlin couldn’t make sense of. It was one of many things about the little apprentice that didn’t exactly make sense, but when Merlin brought the boy along to finish an errand, what he truly dreaded was that the boy would be insufferable and get distracted at every turn. So, really, endearing -

- “Endearing to who?” Merlin asked in response to his own internal monologue, because the humming from the boy, a sure sign that his apprentice was content at the very least, was most certainly not endearing to him -

- So, really, definitely-not-endearing humming of silly, nonsensical tunes was a more-than-adequate alternative to that insufferability and distraction, Merlin was sure.

“Getting that potion ingredient was easier than I thought!” Hisirdoux said happily, the spring in his step ever-present, “The merchant wasn’t even cross with me, like usual - like when I come here by myself.”

“Have you considered,” Merlin started, “That she’d been cross because of your notorious slight-of-hand? And your pickpocketing and street tricks has rendered her wary of your possible antics?”

Hisirdoux shrugged, rubbed the back of his head in obvious sheepishness, and turned his gaze elsewhere, “Mayyyybe-”

His face lit up in excitement, his eyes widening as his mouth formed an “O” shape when he saw something off to the street’s side.

“Ooooh! Look!” He turned a little to the side, bringing his hands up as he started to wander to a stand selling some sweet treats, “They’re selling-”

Merlin put a hand on his shoulder to still the boy, who was already a handful without the added hyperactivity of sugar.

“Nothing of importance, Hisirdoux.”

He turned the boy forward again, put his hand on top of Hisirdoux’s head, and turned it forward again as well.

“Awwwh.” Hisirdoux whined.

“We have what we came down here for, and Wizards are many things, but they are not frivolous.” he said as he kept walking, a slightly-pouting moppet walking alongside him, “We’re heading straight back to the castle. There are better pastry bakers there, anyway.”

Hisirdoux’s disappointed pout left his face.

“Right, right.” he said, as if he were reminded of how happy he was just to be out here, on what he probably thought of as a beautiful day, although Merlin was rather impartial to the sunny weather.

 “Let’s go home, Master!”

...Home?

Did he mean the castle?

Though he kept moving physically, putting one armor-plated foot in front of the other, Merlin’s mind froze as he looked down at the joyful, beaming moppet. To hear Hisirdoux refer to the castle as his home… 

Well, Merlin knew he should have expected it at this point, considering the boy’s utter lack of a permanent roof over his head before, but he still didn’t know what to make of it, if there was anything to make of it.

So, he sighed.

“The castle isn’t that far away.”

--

The dark circles under the boy’s eyes looked darker in hue than usual today, but of course, that was only due to the contrast against the unusual paleness of his face. Said eyes looked up at Merlin with a rather lacking amount of cognizance as the Master Wizard stood over the moppet. Stripped of his bulky leather hooded vest in favor of keeping on only his trousers and tunic, so he didn’t overheat, Hisirdoux’s deep breaths through his mouth were only interrupted by a brief, pitiful sniffle of his nose.

“Mathter, ‘th thith… plague?” He was hoarse from coughing and nasally from his awful congestion. To this, Merlin only huffed - of course, leave it to his ever-dramatic apprentice to leap to the most dire conclusion possible, even though he couldn’t even rightly walk down to the throne room in this state.

“Not unless a rather nasty cold has become the new plague of Camelot.” he answered, “you should have come back sooner from your last errand, Hisirdoux, before it started to pour.”

Hisirdoux groaned, either out of his achy, miserable condition, or frustration with hearing the old man lecture him, or both.

“I know, I know-”

A wet cough cut him off, making him curl up before he flopped back down on the bed.

“Ugh, ithn’t there thome…” he swallowed, as if to clear his throat of sickly gunk as best he could without another hacking, “I dunno, “thickness begone-iuth” thpell, or thomething?”

“I won’t use magic to alleviate your sickness, if that’s what you’re implying.” Merlin denied, “Although unpleasant, your condition is far from serious, and your symptoms should alleviate in a few days, at the most. If I use magic on something so mere, your natural immune system will weaken, and a dependence on magic to maintain your health is dangerous, so-”

“But Mathter-”

“Don’t “But Mathter” me.”

Hisirdoux sighed, a shaky, ugly-sounding thing, too exhausted to even spare a laugh at how Merlin imitated him.

“Magic ithn’t a permithible shortcut…” he started, but he trailed off and punctuated the statement with another little sniffle.

It seemed, remarkably, Hisirdoux remembered a few of Merlin’s teachings, despite his low-grade fever.

Which reminded him…

The Master Wizard sighed and conjured a cold, damp rag, enchanted to not dry out or get tepid. Making sure it was properly folded, he laid it right onto Hisirdoux’s forehead.

“Oh, ‘th nithe…” he mumbled, “thank you…”

“Your plans for today are postponed, of course.” Merlin declared, “You’re to stay here and rest.”

“But-” Hisirdoux’s eyebrows furrowed, “I wath thupposed to go out and do that… that thing… and get the thing… from the plathe…”

Of course, it must have been harder for the boy to think sensibly and make sense than usual.

“And that will wait until your condition improves.” Merlin finalized, “Am I clear?”

Hisirdoux, resigned, nodded.

“Yeth, Mathter… thtaying home it ith, then.”

Before Merlin had anywhere near enough time to be surprised at that word, “home”, Hisirdoux fell right to sleep.

--

Merlin couldn’t remember a time when he’d felt like this before; when he couldn’t tell if he was more terrified or furious.

But he couldn’t be bothered to try to figure that out - not when, after hours of Hisirdoux being late coming back to the castle, a shoddily-written ransom note made its way to the desk of the Master Wizard’s study.

Thankfully, Hisirdoux’s familiar could trace it by it’s unpleasant scent. Merlin followed Archibald as the cat-dragon followed the scent trail to some disgusting hovel in a forest clearing, with some deplorable men hanging around it’s outside.

When Merlin laid eyes on them... he leveled them with any spells he could remember through his rage at them all; at their audacity.

Of course, it had been some incompetent group of bandits, but only a fool equated incompetency with harmlessness; just because these idiots didn’t know what they were doing didn’t mean that Hisirdoux was safe.

So, he shifted his focus on finding his apprentice, even if he had to reduce every board of this blasted cabin to splinters.

But it didn’t come to that; the second Merlin stepped in, he saw him.

Hisirdoux was curled up in a corner, sitting on his heels with his hands bound behind him, his arms bound steadfast to his torso, and a piece of cloth tied between his teeth. He was unharmed, but terrified.

Hisirdoux’s muffled cry that came out when he saw Merlin shattered the old man’s heart.

He never ran faster in his life.

A small, very precise blast from Archie made the bonds around Hisirdoux’s wrists and torso come loose, and when Merlin got to him, he pulled the cloth gag out as fast as he could without hurting him, letting it lay around his neck.

The instant his arms were fully free and Merlin was close enough, Hisirdoux hugged him, clinging to the Wizard for dear life and crying his heart out against his armored shoulder.

“Are you hurt? Did they do anything to you?”

Merlin felt Hisirdoux shake his head. He could tell he was swallowing to try to get some moisture back in his mouth. It had probably been dried out by that blasted gag, and who knew if they’d given him any water?

“No, just-” he gasped, “Scared.”

Those bandits would soon forget the very meaning of mercy.

For now, Merlin focused on rubbing soothing circles against the boy’s back, seeing that his ankles were bound. Merlin didn’t even notice before, and Hisirdoux was so hasty - so desperate for comfort that he didn’t even wait. He didn’t even seem to care.

Archie started cutting them loose.

“I-” Hisirdoux hiccuped, “I wanna go home.”

The shattered remnants of Merlin’s heart melted.

Home.

His son wanted to go home.

He sighed, moving one of his hands to cradle the back of the poor boy’s head, passing his fingers through his un-bunned hair.

“Please,” he whined, “take me home.”

Merlin nodded, the side of his head rubbing Hisirdoux’s.

“Right… right.”

--

It was long past nightfall, and the castle was quiet, so Merlin tried to tread the corridors lightly so his armored feet wouldn’t clank against the floor and wake anyone; the last thing he wanted was for any particular moppetish apprentices to stir.

That boy… he had already gone through so much he hadn’t deserved, and for what? To what end? Merlin presumed that before he’d found him in that alley, he’d been treated poorly for being not only a street rat, but a magical one at that. And now, even though he was the Wizard’s apprentice, that treatment hadn’t truly gone away; no, it only shifted onto new grounds: the grounds that... he was the Wizard’s apprentice. Now, much of the animosity sent his way was truly meant for Merlin; directing it at Hisirdoux merely amplified it. Strengthened the blow.

And that blow was strengthened today.

Merlin remembered the note’s creases under his fingertips as it trembled in his shaking hand; the door creaking open with a shriek in its hinges and showing Merlin his apprentice, bound and gagged and terrified in the corner of that hovel; Hisirdoux wailing against his shoulder; the trembling of his son in his arms. He remembered it all.

“Hisirdoux…”

He passed the sleeping boy’s door… and sensed magic from behind it. Unusual magic for this hour. In the little gap between the door and the floor, he could see the blue glow of his magic, too. Unmistakeable.

“...Hisirdoux?”’

He stopped at the door and pushed it open, only to be met with a fretful sight before him (not nearly as bad as the last time he’d pushed a door open to find Hisirdoux today, but it was rather close.)

The boy was thrashing in his sleep - tossing and turning in his blankets to the point where they’d started to tangle around him, which only made his obviously-nightmare-induced thrashing worse. Magic thrummed from his hands as he fought back against… something, and even Archibald, who had curled up on his abdomen to soothe him to sleep earlier tonight, couldn’t quell his night terror.

Merlin knelt down at the boy’s bedside and put a hand on his shoulder, shaking him lightly, “Hisirdoux!”

“N-no! Stop!” he pleaded, thrashing harder to get the hand off him, “Get away! Leave me ALONE! Let me GO!”

Merlin shook him harder.

“HISIRDOUX!” he shouted.

Finally, the boy’s eyes snapped open, and he gasped.

For a moment, he just breathed as lucidity seeped back into him. After realizing he was in the realm of the conscious, he put his hands to the sides of his head.

“Master…” he squeaked, “Where-”

“It’s alright, Hisirdoux. You’re safe.” he assured, “You’re home.”

Honestly, the words just slipped out, for Merlin, shocked by himself, doubted that he would have ever said them otherwise.

And with now-even-wider eyes, Hisirdoux looked just as shocked.

… Well, no good rescinding it now. How could he, really?

“You’re home.”

Hisirdoux nodded, a shaky smile on his face.

“...Home.”

[expectingtofly]

First Day Jitters

established dean/cas, toddler!jack, dramatic parenting

1.7k

written for day 4 of @smiledean and @chocolatecakecas's follower celebration || prompt: baby!jack

“Say cheese.”

“CHEESE!” Jack beamed at the camera and Dean snapped a photo. Gripping his backpack straps, Jack twirled around as Dean lowered his phone. The school yard was already filling up with other kids Jack’s age, ready for their first day of school.

“Wait, take one of us together,” Cas said, crouching down by Jack. Jack threw his arms around Cas’ neck, nearly making him lose his balance. They both smiled at the camera, twin grins, and Dean couldn’t help a smile as he took their photo.

“Kindergarten!” Jack yelled as he released his grip on Cas.

“Alright, dude, remember,” Dean said, pocketing his phone. “No yelling in class.”

“And no powers,” Sam spoke up. “Most important rule of all.”

Jack nodded solemnly. “And if anyone picks on you…” Dean looked at him expectantly.

“Hit first, ask questions later!”

Cas rubbed at his forehead. “Dean, we’ve talked about this.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Tell us and we’ll beat them up for you.”

“Okay,” Jack said, kicking at loose gravel with his cowboy boots. He had picked out his outfit himself—boots with bee socks, jeans with sunflower patches, and a blue t-shirt with a green brontosaurus. Complete with a Barbie backpack, his outfit was truly… colorful. A lot for the eyes to handle at once.

Teachers milled around outside, and Cas said, “There’s Jack’s teacher.” He waved and she made a pained smile before quickly looking away.

Dean stifled a laugh at Cas’ hurt expression. “Guess we didn’t make the best first impression at Back to School night.”

“Who woulda known asking to lay out salt lines wouldn’t make you any friends,” Sam deadpanned.

“I still think we should’ve warded the school,” Dean protested.

“We’re trying to not get kicked out,” Sam shot back.

“Hey!” Jack said, getting their attention. He balled up his fists on his hips. “No fighting! This is an exciting day!”

“Yes, it is,” Cas agreed, giving them a pointed look. “And we are very excited for you.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Dean said, holding up his hands. A bell rang and a teacher opened the door to the school. “Think it’s time to go.”

Jack turned to watch the rush of kids to the school, his backpack nearly as large as he was. Had the school building always towered over him like that? Dean wondered.

“Exciting day,” Jack said to himself, sounding less sure.

“Hey,” Sam said, crouching by his side. “You’re gonna have fun, okay?”

Jack looked back at them and Dean nodded. “We’ll be waiting for you when school’s over.”

Jack took a deep breath, then smiled. “Okay.” He gave them all one last hug, and Dean couldn’t resist smoothing out his hair and checking the straps on his backpack.

When Jack let go of Cas, Cas grabbed his hand, holding tight. “You’ll pray to me, right? If anything happens?” Jack nodded, tugging a little to get away.

Cas held on. “And you’ll remember everything to tell us when you get home?”

“Yes, Dada.” He tugged again and Cas let him go.

Dean watched him run to join the kids lining up at the doors. The teachers counted them, and Jack started chattering with the boy standing in front of him wearing a dinosaur backpack.

“Fuck,” Dean swore under his breath, feeling his eyes prickle as the teachers started leading the kids inside. Jack skipped his way to the door, his backpack bouncing behind him. Right before he disappeared inside, he turned and waved.

Dean hastily blinked and swallowed hard, waving back.

The doors closed behind the kids and the yard was reduced to silence.

“Now what?” Cas asked, staring at the doors.

“Now we leave and don’t stalk the school,” Sam said. He grinned, looking at Dean. “Are you crying?”

“Shut up,” Dean said, wiping at his eyes brusquely. They started for their cars, though he couldn’t help looking back. Third window on the righthand side, second floor. Jack’s classroom. He’d cased the school last week, learned the exits and entrances. Still, standing outside, he felt helpless.

“Shit—he had his lunchbox, right?” he asked, hand pausing on the Impala’s driver's door. “And his pencil case, and—”

“You checked his backpack three times this morning,” Cas reminded him. “He has everything.”

“Right, right..."

“See you guys later for dinner?” Sam asked, heading to his own car.

“See ya then,” Dean agreed, getting in the driver’s seat. He paused before putting the key in the ignition, though, eyes drawn to the school doors.

“He’s going to do great,” Cas said, sounding a little too much like he was trying to convince himself.

Dean nodded. Jack had done great in preschool and they had spent all summer preparing him for the transition into kindergarten. Not that Jack needed much convincing to go. He loved school; it was more Dean and Cas who needed time to adjust to the idea.

A sniff drew his eyes to Cas, who was wiping at his eyes.

“Fuck, not you too,” Dean complained, feeling his own eyes well up again.

“His carseat,” Cas said simply, and Dean glanced at the backseat where Jack’s empty carseat sat.

“Shit,” he muttered, sinking in his seat and rubbing his eyes. “Thought we were pros at this after a year of preschool.”

“Guess not,” Cas said. He produced a tissue box out of thin air and handed one to Dean, then blew his own nose.

“Alright, enough,” Dean said, swiping at his nose and balling up the tissue. “Enough crying. He’s going to kindergarten, not off to war.”

Cas nodded and determined, Dean pulled out of the parking lot. He and Cas had taken the day off, which in hindsight was the wrong move because now they had too much time on their hands. Trying to distract themselves with errands didn’t help either because everything suddenly reminded them of Jack.

They went to the local gardening center, where Cas stroked the daisy petals with a soft look in his eyes. “I should buy some for Jack.”

And then the bakery: “We gotta have snacks when he comes home,” Dean told Cas, selecting a dozen donuts.

And, stopping at the street taco food truck downtown: “Jack’s eating lunch now,” Cas said, checking the time, the mournful look on his face not matching the delicious taco in his hand. “And then recess.”

“Hope he’s made friends,” Dean said, his own taco suddenly tasting flavorless.

“He will. He’s very friendly.” One tear dripped into his guacamole.

“For fuck’s sake,” Dean said, gathering up the remainders of his food. “Come on.”

The school yard was alive with kids yelling, laughing, swinging, playing hopscotch, and skipping rope. Dean idled close to the curb, scanning the yard through the fence. He was well aware that he and Cas looked extremely suspicious now, but he hoped the school parking pass hanging from the rearview mirror helped prove they weren't creeps. Just overly protective parents. Which was only a bit better.

“There he is!” Cas said, pointing out his window. Dean leaned over him to see Jack jumping over a hopscotch chalk drawing. One foot, two feet, one foot, two. Reaching the end, another kid high-fived him and Jack beamed. He cheered as someone else went through the course, then, the game abandoned, Jack ran with the others to the swings.

He swung higher and higher, cowboy boots kicking into the air. Dean was pretty sure he could hear his laughter rising above everyone else’s.

“We’re being stupid,” Dean realized. Cas looked at him. “He’s fine. He’s doing great. We don’t have to worry, we just gotta let him do his thing.”

Cas looked back at Jack, then took a deep breath. “You’re right.” The bell rang and Jack slowed his swing, jumped off, and joined the kids headed inside.

Determinedly facing forward, Cas said, “Alright. He’s got this.”

“We got this,” Dean amended, and Cas smiled.

“We got this.”

***

“DAD!” Jack ran full force to Dean, crashing against his legs. Before Dean could recover, Jack turned to Cas, who crouched down and took him into his arms, nearly getting knocked down in the process. He held onto him tightly, shutting his eyes as he buried his face into Jack’s shoulder.

“I missed you,” he said.

“I missed you too,” Jack said, extricating himself from his grip to hold up a slightly crinkled piece of paper. “I drew a brontosaurus!”

“That’s beautiful, Jack,” Cas said, admiring the drawing. “That’s going on the fridge.”

“Had a good day?” Dean asked. Around them, other kids streamed out of the school to waiting parents, and Jack nodded enthusiastically.

“The best!” He took Cas’ offered hand and told them about his day as they walked to the Impala. True to his word, he had remembered every detail, down to the amount of times he used the bathroom and the name of the lunch lady.

“And I got to swing at recess!” he told them, clambering into his carseat.

Dean and Cas caught each others’ eyes guiltily over the Impala’s roof. “I’m glad you had so much fun,” Cas told Jack, buckling him in.

“Thanks.” He swung his legs as they got into the front seat. “Did you have a good day?”

Cas glanced at Dean. There were plenty ways to answer that question. Looking back, though, seeing Jack bravely walking into school, being so independent, making friends…

"Missed you, but we managed,” Dean answered truthfully.

Cas smiled at Dean before twisting around to look at Jack. “We’re proud of you, Jack,” he told him, and Dean nodded.

“Did you cry?” Jack asked, eyes narrowing in suspicion. “Sam said you were going to cry. I didn’t cry.”

“Just a little,” Cas admitted. Dean snorted and Cas elbowed him. “Dean more than me.”

“Hey!” Dean protested.

Jack cackled. “I knew it!”

Dean shook his head, muttering about murdering Sam. Jack continued his recap of the day, and Dean resigned himself to getting stuck in after-school traffic for the next twenty minutes.

Leaning back in his seat, he grinned at Jack stumbling over his words in his excitement to share them. It was a good day.

[shreddedparchment]

A Wife for Thor Pt.05

10/28/2020

Preparations

Pairing: King!Thor x Reader          Word Count: 6,652

Warnings: angst, slight smut?, language, fluff

A/N: Thank you everyone, for putting up with my emotional ass. After some thought, and when I was feeling better and not so sad (?), I really didn’t wanna make those of you keeping up with the story wait for the next chapter. I hope you all enjoy this one and if you happen to reblog, thank you so much for helping me spread my work! xoxo

Please DO NOT repost my stories on any other blogs or sites.

REBLOGS are always welcome!

The city is lively with beautiful Asgardians rushing about their daily lives. In the time since it’s completion, New Asgard and its inhabitants have settled into a routine. New lives on a planet now once again full of growth, community interaction, and celebration when the time is right.

“We’ll give you a proper tour tomorrow.” Brunnhilde says, reaching forward to tap the shoulder of the man driving you both. “Stop here.”

“Wait, aren’t you coming with me?” You ask, startled as she throws open the back door of the sleek black sedan.

“No. I have other things to prepare for the wedding and then I have to check in on my Valkyrie. Your escorts will meet you at the shop.” Brunnhilde assures you.

“But-”

“Bye!” She smiles at you and slams the door in your face.

You sit there, confused and at a loss. Your anxiety begins to mount when the driver, a handsome young Asgardian man with long braided black hair, clears his throat and draws your attention to the front.

“Shall I drive on Your Highness?” He asks, glancing in his rearview mirror at you.

“Um…” You’ll never get used to that stupid your highness stuff. “Yes.”

“Very good, Your Highness.”

“Can’t you just call me, Y/N?” You ask, feeling awkward.

“No.” He says, a smile on his face. “I cannot. I can see why his Majesty has chosen you.”

You’re surprised by this statement, and you’re pretty sure it’s insolent maybe? You don’t know because this is all new to you, but you don’t really care either way.

“Why?”

“You don’t remember me?” He asks, as he drives down the street.

As they pass, the Asgardians stop in their walking or talking or errand running to watch you drive by. Some of them smile with excitement, even moving with the car a few steps before stopping.

They’re all dressed normal. Asgardian garb abandoned to fit in on Earth. Not all of them. Some still wear their own clothes. Some of them wear a mixture of both. It’s a mish-mash of two cultures and you understand the need for a human Queen a little more.

“No.” You shake your head, giving the driver your full attention.

“I didn’t think you would.” He admits, smiling still. “You were very nervous when I first drove you up to the palace. Quite literally shaking in your pretty shoes.”

Was he your driver then too?!

“Alas, I understand his Majesty’s choice because you were the only woman that sat in my car and spoke to me. You may not have been aware enough to remember me, but you were very kind. Very concerned about me despite the stress you were in.” He looks in his rearview mirror again, meeting your eyes. “My wife gave birth, by the way.”

“Oh!” Your mind is struck with an unfocused conversation, hazy but you remember the pregnant wife. “I remember!”

You’re way too excited about remembering and the driver chuckles.

“Was it a boy or a girl?” You ask eagerly.

“A girl.” He smiles. “We’ve named her Luta.”

“Congratulations!” You exclaim gently, so happy for him.

“Thank you, Your Highness. I’ll tell my wife you said so.” He promises.

“I’d love to meet her.” You hope, leaning forward to get a better look at the side of his face.

“I’m not sure that will be possible. You’ll be terribly busy, and my wife is also with our little girl.”

“What if I came to pay her a special visit?” You really want to meet her.

“If you could find the time, Your Highness, my wife and I would be happy to receive you.” He smiles.

“I’m sorry if you told me last time we met, but what is your name?”

“Armod, Your Highness.” He tells you, turning down a second and smaller street.

The people are still dense, gathered around stalls and smaller shops as Armod drives a little slower to keep a careful eye on the families attending what must be an early morning market.

You take it in as quickly as you can, devouring the sight of these beautiful people and in return they turn to watch you go by.

They turn to each other, have quick and silent—to you—exchanges before a few of them begin to turn and wave.

Nervous, you wave timidly, smiling because you can’t help it. It isn’t a conscious decision.

The side street is so packed with stalls that it makes it impossible for people to follow the car at the speed it’s going, even reduced.

You’re a little grateful. You don’t want to get mobbed without someone else here to dilute the excitement.

“The people are very excited to see their future Queen.” Armod explains, “Forgive them their exuberance.”

“I hope I don’t disappoint them.”

As the crowd thins out, and Armod pulls the car into a gentle stop, he shakes his head, “Trust me, Your Highness, you won’t.”

Your car door opens. Into your view slides a pale white hand, luxurious suit jacket sleeve barely hiding the equally expensive white button-up underneath.

“Your Highness,” greets a familiar voice.

Taking his hand, Loki pulls you from the car, helping you stand and even reaching down to adjust the long train of your right sleeve.

The dress is sparkling blue, a body-hugging gold silk dress underneath the top sheer voile blue layer on top. The right sleeve is long, ends at your wrist, with a train that flows down at an equal length to that of your skirt. The left side is sleeveless.

You’re nervous about the deep V of your bodice, the scrunched-up shoulders of your dress carefully balanced there but too precarious for your liking.

With he sun out, the chill in the air isn’t so bad, but here in the shade of what must be the bridal shop, you shiver.

“You look lovely.” Loki smiles.

“I look stupid.” You counter, feeling very exposed and not at all pretty with how tight the dress feels.

“Allow me to politely disagree.” Loki takes your hand and leads it around his elbow as become aware of the people gathering around to catch a look at you. “I think the crowd would agree with me.”

“Can we go inside, please?” You beg, waving at the small group as other begin to flock from their spots at distant stalls to join the crowd.

“Of course.” Loki taps your hand then escorts you into the shop.

You relax a little once you’re inside and warm.

A middle-aged looking woman moves towards the two of you, her hand subtly stroking a large fold of crimson fabric on the low center shelf before she reaches you and then dips into a low curtsy before rising and grabbing her hands to hold at chest level.

“Good morning, your Highnesses!” She exclaims, gushing to an embarrassing degree.

“Good morning, Gorm. How are you?” Loki asks politely.

He doesn’t seem truly interested in her answer, but he waits kindly while she flusters with the honor of his polite concern.

“I am much better now that you and our King Thor’s lovely intended have arrived. Such an honor to meet you, Your Highness.” She says, addressing you directly.

“Thank you.” You reply, startled by her a bit. “It’s so great to meet you.”

“Tell me, Gorm, have you received His Majesty’s instructions on the dress we’d like?” Loki checks.

“Oh, yes, Your Highness! I’ve been working non-stop on several options since I received them.” She assures him, gesturing back towards a doorway past a long wooden counter with a modern cash register and signature pad for credit cards.

“Excellent.” Loki smiles. “Now, while I hate to do this to you, love—do you think you can handle a few hours alone with Gorm to do your fitting?”

“You’re leaving?” You ask, once again shocked, just like with Brunnhilde.

“I’m afraid I have several other things to do for the wedding and with the Earth and Asgardian ambassadors eager to have the wedding as soon as possible, I have to take every chance I can get to run these errands. Not like I have anything better to do…” Loki’s voice is slightly bitter, but only for a moment before he taps your hand again. “Don’t worry, I’ll be back long before you’re finished. Gorm doesn’t leave anything to chance with her gowns and this one is the most important one you will wear in your life. We have to get it right, don’t we Gorm?”

Gorm is already nodding, her blonde graying hair flowing like waves across her shoulders as she does. “Oh, yes, Your Highness. I will make sure that not only will the dress fit His Majesty’s expectations, but you too shall feel beautiful and like the dress was made just for you, Your Highness.”

“There you are.” Loki smiles. “I’ll be back.”

He pulls your hand up to his lips to kiss your knuckles before letting it go and moving towards the door, leaving you and Gorm to stand awkwardly for a few moments after the door shuts behind him.

“Shall we?” She gestures back towards the doorway and since there’s no way to get out of this, you fix her with a nervous smile and nod.

“Yes.” You sigh, and follow her, making sure to hold onto the counter as your round it so that you don’t trip on your train.

~~~~~~~~~~

Stomach absolutely growling, you slip your arms through the sleeves of the dress you’ve pretty much settled on.

The past five hours have had you step in and out of two other dresses three times, and this one a total of eight times. Each time so that Gorm can make alterations to length and cut and detail.

It’s surprising to you that this particular dress should need so much maintenance when it’s the simplest of the bunch.

You’d fallen for it almost at first sight but had tried the other two more frilly dresses to appease Gorm since Thor had requested something feminine to counteract the armor you’d be wearing on the day.

Armor you had no idea would be required in your wedding until Gorm explained the necessity for bodices without much flair.

“Alright, Your Highness,” Gorm smiles at you, holding the dress low and open for you to step through. “Once more, and then I think we are done.”

You let her slip the dress over you, layer after layer of smooth satin with one final crepe layer on top. The dress is eggshell white, soft, and easy on the eye.

Some white fabrics nearly burn your retinas, but this one is pleasant to look at.

It stops just around your shoulders, leaving them exposed. The neckline curves down with your bust just a little making the top look like a heart, the point of which is followed all the way down with a line of stitched white buttons.

They’re purely decorative because behind you is where Gorm stands to zip the dress closed.

She closes a small clasp and then folds out the layers of skirt around you.

It’s not as long as the blue dress you wore here today. Simpler and easier to walk in. The sleeves themselves are long, which you appreciate very much in this weather. Every bit of the dress now settles along your curves just right.

“Oh, this was the right choice, I think.” Gorm smiles wide. “You look beautiful, Your Highness. His Majesty is a very lucky man.”

You smile in return, flattered by her words for a moment because you forget that Thor has been with Jane all morning. As you remember, your smile falters then fades as the worries you had this morning come rushing back.

“You don’t like it?” Gorm asks, reaching down to stroke the long and beautiful skirt.

“Oh, no. I love the dress, Gorm. I’m just…worried about His Majesty liking it.” You smile at her, to reassure her. She’s done such amazing work. You might have her make all of your gowns from now on. Unless…?

“Gorm? Were you the one that made the dress I came in wearing today?” You wonder.

“No.” She shakes her head. “I’m afraid I did not have that pleasure.”

“How much of an imposition would it be if I made you my sole dressmaker? His Majesty has bought me some gowns to wear when appropriate, but I don’t feel like they’re my style.”

“Oh, Your Highness! It would be an honor to be your personal dressmaker!” She’s so flustered that she excuses herself and vanishes into the front of the shop to get her water.

You turn your gaze onto yourself in the mirror, all three angles looking back at you.

The dress really is unbelievably beautiful. You would never have thought that this dress and its style would have looked good on you, but it fits around your curves so seamlessly. This dress was literally made for you and it’s very noticeable.

As you turn around one final time, a small chuckle from the doorway pulls your eyes away from your reflection.

“I’m glad to see you haven’t put up such a fight over this.” Loki moves towards you, stopping a few feet away with his arms crossed over his chest.

“You should have seen me wrestle with the other two.” You sigh. “Can we go? I’m so hungry.”

Almost as if on cue, your stomach growls.

“Yes.” Loki nods. “We can go. I’ve got lunch waiting for you back in the palace.”

“Is Thor back?” You hop off the box you’d been standing on, grabbing your skirts and then dropping them to cascade around your legs like a milky waterfall.

Loki’s smile falter. “I’m afraid not. But don’t worry, he’ll be back soon, I’m sure.”

You’re so disappointed you wander away from him into the dressing room to change back into your blue dress without giving him any sort of answer.

He’s got you in the car, your forehead resting against the glass of the window, lost in thoughts of Thor and Jane when he speaks to you again.

“Might I ask you a favor, sister?” He probes gently.

Him calling you his sister makes your stomach tumble.

You have a brother! How can you ever explain this happiness?

“Sure.”

“I hope you don’t find me insolent, but-” He hesitates, thinking about the words he’s about to say hard before he meets your eyes and that seems to strengthen his resolve. “Don’t fall in love with Thor. Not yet. Don’t let him pull you in right away.”

“You think he’ll leave me for Jane?” You wait, watching as Loki thinks through your accusation.

“Not exactly, but yes. I suppose that’s a possibility I hope you can avoid.”

For a few minutes while Armod drives you back to the palace, you say nothing. You consider his request and the honest concern that he seems to have for you.

As Armod pulls into the large multi-car garage at the back of the palace, you turn to Loki and stare sadly.

“I can’t make that promise, Loki.” You shrug. “It’s already too late for that.”

“You love him?” Loki realizes.

“No!” You deny, “Not exactly. I don’t love him yet, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t very fond of him already. He-he kissed me last night.”

Loki’s brow furrows.

“A lot actually. He begged me to try and love him just as he would try to love me. I promised him I would try.” As if you’ll need to try.

You’re already hopelessly possessive over him. Maybe not him as a person, but rather those kisses he gave you. Those are your kisses now. Those thick arms he held you in, those are your arms—your hugs!

And now he might be in the United States giving those very things that are now yours alone to Jane who wouldn’t even marry him?

“It’s too late.” You reiterate, feeling absolutely lost.

“Come on, Your Highness. Let’s get you a late lunch.”

~~~~~~~~~~

If there isn’t a trail across your floor after all of the pacing you’ve done today, you’d be surprised.

“This won’t make him come back any faster.” Brunnhilde points out.

“Do I really have to model the wedding dress for him?” You ask, twisting your fingers nervously as you move up and down your room.

“I think it would be good for him.” Brunnhilde explains. “And yes. He won’t see your armor until the day of the wedding, but the dress will help make it more real for him. He needs that. So do you.”

“It’s already real for me Brunnhilde.” You lift your thumb nail to your teeth and nip, like a nervous pup, stopping at the heavy doors of the balcony.

They’ve been thrown open and the chilly air filtering in makes you shiver.

“Hilde.” Brunnhilde corrects, then moves to take a long wine-colored woolen shawl and drapes it over your shoulders as you stare out at the bustling city.

You can hear laughter, lots of merrymaking. The Asgardian people know how to enjoy their free time, but you’ve seen how hard they work too. As a whole. Loki assured you on the way home that there are just as many lazy time wasters among them as there are humans.

“Why are you fretting?” She sits at the desk, staring up at you with curious dark eyes.

“Because he’s been with Jane all day.” You lash out.

It’s not a scream, just pure exasperation. And immediately, you feel sorry.

“I’m sorry.” You sigh, dropping your hand but pulling the shawl around you tighter.

You notice it finally.

“Oh, thank you.” You really feel bad now.

“You’re acting like you’re already in love with him.” She teases, not caring one bit about your little tantrum.

Through the corners of your eyes you look at her, avoiding her piercing look.

“Y/N…?” She wonders, leaning forward to get a better look at you.

“I don’t love him, alright? I just…” You sigh. “No one’s ever kissed me before.”

Your feel your neck and ears burn, scorching with embarrassment as you admit just how much of a maiden she’d found for him.

“So, you really are a virgin?” She gasps, leaning almost her entire body along the desk to look at your face.

You frown at her. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“No.” She hakes her head. “No, not at all. You’re just so…well, you’re beautiful.”

The laugh that slips through your lips is sudden and honest.

You stare at her, shaking your head because you don’t believe her one bit.

“I’m serious!” Hilde assures you, smiling and amused by your reaction. “It’s a little bit of a shame that you haven’t been fawned on before.”

The sprinkle of sadness in her voice exposes her real meaning and it wipes away all traces of flattery.

“You mean, it’s a shame that I haven’t been with someone who will really love me because they choose to? And not like Thor because he has to?” With a bit more desperation, you look for Armod’s car, needing to see Thor.

Everything that happened last night feels like a dream. Made up in your mind to make it easier to marry Thor. Was it a dream?

You don’t remember him telling you goodnight. You have the vague memory of falling asleep with your head on his shoulder but you’re not sure how real that is with how hazy it feels.

What if his kisses had been a hopeful wish?

You bite your bottom lip, the heat and weight of his lips still fresh in your memory.

It can’t have been a dream. It felt so amazing. You could never have imagined the way it felt for him to invade you the way he did, pulling your body against his.

“He doesn’t come by car, y’know?” Hilde says, sitting back in her seat.

“What?” You turn to her, eager for explanation.

“Thor?” She gestures at the sky outside, drawing your eyes away from the city in the distance and up to the stars. “He flies here on Earth. It’s faster than flying by plane, but not by much. He’ll be going straight to his room as soon as he gets back.”

“Oh.” Your disappointment is suffocating and because you have no reason to keep freezing to death, you close the balcony doors.

With the cold shut out the heat from the hidden vents in your room saturates your shawl and envelopes you in a cocoon of heat.

“He might not want to see me tonight.” You accept, knowing that even if things went as best as they could have, Thor will still be heartbroken.

Having to give up on a relationship he had been so invested in? Even if he’s been unhappy with it lately, it must be difficult.

“No. He might not. But he has no choice. The wedding is in three days, so we have no time to wait for him to be ready to see you. We need approval on the dress.” She explains, leaving no room for argument.

Which is a shame because you would rather not see him all torn up about Jane. Not that you wouldn’t like to give him comfort. But you doubt that seeing you is something Thor would want. Not when it’s your fault that he has to break up with Jane to begin with.

“You know what? I’ll go check to see if he’s back. Gorm already sent us the dress. I’ll have Estrid help you put it on.” Hilde rises, moving out of the room without waiting for you to agree.

Five minutes later, Estrid moves into the room, her arms cradling your beautifully crafted wedding dress.

“Shall I do your hair too, Your Highness?” She asks, and lays the dress on your bed, the color such a beautiful contrast to the deep plum colored sheets.

“My hair?” You look in the mirror and the fancy thing they’d done with it this morning is falling apart. “No. I’m okay, Estrid. Thank you.”

“Very well, Your Highness.” She smiles kindly then moves towards you and takes your shawl.

You turn for her and she begins to unzip your blue dress, your mind on Thor and the mood he might be in when you see him again.

~~~~~~~~~~

The hesitation is in more than just your fist, hovering over the dark wooden of Thor’s bedroom door. It’s tall. Taller than it probably needs, sitting within a stone arch decorated with stunning golden engravings.

You’re not sure why Brunnhilde left you to do this alone. Loki is busy with something secret that he doesn’t want to share with you yet.

Not wedding related. He says it’s important and it involves you to some degree, but it’s not necessary for you to know until it’s necessary for you to know. Which is a circle-jerk kind of logic that you’re kind of annoyed by.

He’s nicer than previous opinions of him have made him seem. You suppose that has to do with the growth he’s made since he was last on Earth.

New York hadn’t been a great time for Loki, and he could only go up from there.

Brunnhilde had also neglected to tell you how Thor was feeling. Or looking? Either would have been great before you committed to coming up here on your own.

Thor’s bedroom is at the highest point of the palace. That is, highest save for the last floor which is mostly a defense tower full of weapons and a constant guard to keep Thor and his future wife safe. Which is now gonna be you.

Unless you go into his room and he tells you that he can’t stand being without Jane and rejects you and this pretty dress and you have to go back home to live just as you had before you met him. Only now with his kisses in your mind, his massive body pressed to yours, you won’t be able to get over the future you’d been promised.

How had you gone from refusing to marry him to wanting nothing more than to be his wife and even if all he was able to give you was one of those stupid kisses from last night, you’d be satisfied?

You drop your hand, almost with your mind made up to give up and just go back to your room because you don’t think you have the nerve to go through with seeing him today.

The part of you that disagrees, that remembers last night and wants more lifts your hand and knocks on his door.

In shock, you wait until his voice comes through and finally take a breath.

“Estrid? Is that you?” Thor’s voice sounds tired, not broken, but you can hear the weight in his heart by the sound of him.

You open the door and peek in, just one eye and the room is astoundingly beautiful.

If you weren’t so scared of what you’ll find in Thor, your jaw would drop ant the stunning image. To the left are two doorways, one is open, and you can see a large bathroom within. At the center of the room is what looks like a small kiddie pool, recessed into the floor, but probably deep enough for Thor to stand in?

There’s a part on this floor that’s shaped strangely from the outside and wonder if that’s what it is. The floor is dark stone tile, smooth and probably treated for waterproofing. Along the far wall of the bathroom, you can see a long wooden bench, dark oak like all of the other woods in the room from what you can see.

The toilet must be somewhere to the left where you can’t see from where you stand.

The other door is shut but since there is only an ornate set of drawers to the right of it, you assume that inside must be a large closet.

To the right of the room is a large bed. Large bed. You’ve never seen one so big.

It must be a California King? Which you’d stumbled upon in your search for mattresses when you’d first moved into your home. An accidental find and completely unnecessary.

That is, until now, when the thought of Thor laying in your very normal sized bed flits across your mind and suddenly the large King makes much more sense.

The bed is covered in soft looking gray flannel sheets. The comforter is gorgeous too, luxurious in its cotton ball soft appearance. Black with golden swirls and lines stitched across the top and bottom. The number of pillows is silly. All sizes too. Large ones at the very back and then several smaller ones until the ones at the very front are for mere decoration only.

Despite the more rustic look of the walls in the dark oak and stone base, the bed and furniture is slightly more modern in design. The headrest is cream white, ridged, and padded, as is the foot of the bed, but flatter than the headrest.

Two bedside tables hold various books on one and a lamp on the other. Behind the bed is a wall with a great big tree carved, flowing the length from top to bottom.

You swear you’ve seen that somewhere before.

The entirety of the wall opposite the doors to the room is made up of windows. Each window has been thrown open and the floor to ceiling curtains flow in the cool breeze.

They avoid the small breakfast table, laden with an untouched plate of the chicken you’d had for supper. On the other side is a large heavy looking desk. It’s sturdy. Big like Thor with papers and scrolls and folders. A laptop sits shut at the center and in the chair turned to face the left side of the room sits Thor with his shoulders hunched, elbows on his knees, hands supporting his face as he keeps it covered.

His body tells you everything you need to know about how he’s feeling and though you hate it, after so much worrying about what you’d find in here, you’re grateful to finally set eyes on him.

“It’s not Estrid.” You say gently, afraid to speak any louder and disturb him more than he already is.

His head whips towards you, faster than you expected.

Your hands go numb with nervous energy as he stares at you, his electric blue eyes scanning you very slowly from head to toe, then back up again. He takes his hand as he does so, covering his mouth with it, stroking his beard slowly as if fixing it.

Taking the opportunity, you note the plain jeans he’s wearing, the white t-shirt that stretches across his wide chest and strains to keep him covered. The hem of his sleeves struggle to keep his biceps contained. His golden hair is windswept, short as it is, it sticks in all directions.

He looks so good, so perfect, except for that sadness on his face.

You can’t bear to ask him anything about her.

“Gorm is lovely.” You tell him, forcing a smile and a quick nod.

He meets your eyes with his own, dropping the hand he’d used to shield his mouth and allows both his hands to dangle between his knees.

“She’s the best in the city.” Thor nods, devouring your dress again.

He suddenly rises and you teeter backwards with the sudden rise.

He steps towards you, his feet falling heavy on the floor.

You really like the way he struts towards you. There’s a slight sway to his hips.

Lips feeling dry and cracked, you freeze as he moves past you at the last moment.

The sound of him sitting on his bed pulls you around to look at him and he sighs, reaching his right arm up towards you.

With a swallow, you move towards him. The luscious short train of your skirt follows in your wake, flowing like water.

When you’re within reach, his places his hand on your waist, pulling you closer until you’re standing before him. He takes his other hand and places that on your waist too, making your breath shallow.

He looks up to meet your gaze.

Hands balled into fists; you wait. You’re not sure what he needs. What you need from this moment. You’re only sure that you’re glad you don’t seem to have dreamed up last night.

“You look beautiful.” He says, voice penetrating into your chest to restart your heart at double the speed.

“It’s a little simple.” You observe, remembering the other much frillier options.

“It suits you.” He lets his hand trace down along the side of your hip, stealing your breath before sliding his hand back up to your waist.

He gives you a little shake and you reach out to place your hands on his shoulders to keep from losing your already fragile balance.

“Brunnhilde told me that you were very anxious today.” He sounds worried, his brow puckered, eyes crinkled at the corners from concern.

You shrug for him, intending to play off the exact amount of worrying you’d done today because you don’t want him to know how invested you already are.

“I ended it with Jane.”

“You don’t have to-” You begin, but Thor makes a dismissive noise in his throat and cuts you off.

“I owe you an explanation.” He nods. “When I gave you that ring on your finger, I became your intended. Officially ending things with Jane was only out of respect for who we were when we were together.”

“Thor you really don’t have to tell me about your breakup with Jane. It’s private. It’s before me. Whatever happened between the two of you today is now in the past.” You sigh, trying not to think about what kisses might have been shared.

Maybe more?

You make a mental note to never hold it against him if he ever tells you that he slept with her today.

He was hers long before you agreed to marry him.

“I want to be honest with you.” He sighs. “I want us to be open with each other. I want us to talk about anything that may be troubling us.”

“We will.” You nod, giving his shoulders a small squeeze. “I promise.”

“Then tell me what you were worried about today.”

You already regret your promise.

“I thought about what you must be feeling. Wondered if you might change your mind.” Answering honestly is actually cathartic. Though you usually do it on reflex, choosing to do it feels nice.

Thor only watches you, waiting for you to get it all out, his large hands caressing the sides of your waist and making you tingle.

“Keep going.” He urges you gently.

“I’m embarrassed.” You admit, and Thor’s face relaxes a moment, the beginnings of a smile curling his lips.

He doesn’t prompt you again, just waits.

There’s a peace in this silence of his. An acceptance. A sense of time to just be.

“I was afraid that I’d imagined last night. I don’t remember falling asleep. I just woke up and it was this morning. And last night was so…” You stop, realizing that as much as you’ve thought about last night today, for Thor if there are any kisses that he wants to hold onto today, they’re probably from Jane.

This fact suddenly hardens your heart and resolve. You reach to grab his wrists to pull his hands off of you, but he doesn’t budge. You couldn’t move him if you pushed as hard as you can.

“It doesn’t matter.” You brush it off. “You probably want to just be alone and I was told that you need to approve the dress? So, tell me what you think, and I’ll get out of your hair.”

“Have I upset you?” He asks, face shifted back into that slight pout he’d been wearing before.

“N-No.” You shake your head.

“Then why do you want to leave so quickly?” He demands, voice rising in pitch at the end.

“I just…after today, I just thought that maybe you’d want some space?”

“Then you aren’t angry with me?” He checks.

“No.”

He leans forward and presses his head against your stomach, eyes shutting as his arms wrap themselves around you and pull you closer.

You don’t quite know what to do with your hands, so you stand there, holding them over his shoulders, fighting the desire to hold him back.

“I’m so tired.” He admits to you, and it settles in your heart.

You drop your arms, resting them against him before you embrace him, hands splayed along his wide back.

He exhales, relaxing against you. “Thank you.”

“For what, Thor?” You whisper, too overcome with all this hugging to speak any louder.

“For hugging me.”

Your heart breaks for him, and you hold him tighter.

“May I be honest with you about something?”

“Yes.” Here it is, the truth about Jane and him today.

“These moments with you have been the most enjoyable and special moments I’ve spent with anyone in a long time.”

Does it really matter if he slept with Jane today? Kissed her? Hugged her?

Was he this sweet with her too?

“I love you in this dress.”

You sigh, the first three words of that declaration sending your heart into a frenzy.

“You do?”

“I do.”

You smile, liking that very much.

Thor’s blue eye shifts with electricity, literally, and he pulls you down onto his lap with a demanding grip on your waist.

Your arm is still around his shoulder, the other moving down to rest over his hand which he brings around to rest on your lower belly.

“Are you happy?” He wonders, catching your fingers within his.

“Relatively.” You nod. “I’m still worried.”

Honestly, right?

“Why?” He laments, caressing your waist.

“I’m liking you more and more too quickly.” You sigh. “I don’t want to disappoint you or the people. I want to do well. Both in our marriage and with the kingdom.”

Thor caresses your side, then slides his hand down further, large hand sliding along the fabric of your dress down over your thigh.

There’s a subtle tickle between your legs. It startles you and you have to physically force yourself to relax.

“You’re already better than anyone else I might have chosen.” Thor whispers, leaning in closer until his lips are pressed to your ear.

You remind yourself that you made him promise not to do anything he doesn’t want to do. No forcing himself to be affectionate if he doesn’t feel it.

“Thor…” You gasp, just a flurry of the air left in your lungs.

“I’ve been thinking…” He admits. “Since I left you last night, about how we might be able to prepare for our wedding night.”

How do you breathe again? Where does the air go?

“Do you trust me, cherub?”

That pet name hits you just as fiercely as it did the first time and all you can do is nod.

Thor suddenly throws you back over his arm onto the bed. Landing with your head on the pillow, you gasp, chest rising and falling dramatically as you struggle to catch your breath again.

He leans down and hovers over you, waiting as you do, staring into your eyes.

“I’ll make certain you know this is not a dream.” He promises, then leans down to press his lips against yours.

You sigh, grateful for his taste as if it were a drug, removing an ache you’ve been feeling all day. Your arms come up on their own, trapping his torso down on yours as his hands trace your sides slowly.

This time you’re the one seeking more, pressing the tip of your tongue against his lips until he opens them and kisses you back.

He inhales your kiss, breathing in until you hear the vibration of a moan rip through him into you and you have never felt your body burn this way before.

You want him to make more sounds like that. Over and over if possible.

He pulls away too quickly, making you lift your head to follow him, but you fall back onto the bed, gasping for breath.

“Do you really trust me?” Thor checks again, his hands moving down along your sides until they stop at your hips, hands flexing and squeezing.

You’re shifting on his sheets, body squirming from energy you don’t recognize.

You know that he probably needs to be close to someone like this after today. After whatever he lost with Jane, even if he won’t let you see just how much it really hurt him, he probably needs this closeness.

“Yes.” You breathe.

With one hand he reaches down, staring into your eyes as he does. He finds the bottom hem of your dress and flips his hand underneath, then takes hold of your ankle.

He turns to face your feet, sliding down to the end of the bed then removes the flats you’d switched into, along with the thick socks you’d found to fight the cold.

It’s so chilly in here you shiver.

“You won’t be cold for long, cherub.” He promises.

After dropping your shoes on the floor, he rises then crawls onto the bed to where your feet are, grabbing hold of your ankles to pull your legs open a little.

“Easy.” He tells you gently. “You’ll still be a maid on our wedding night. This will be just a taste.”

He flips your skirt over his head, disappearing from view.

You push yourself up onto your elbows, curious and just as nervous until you feel the pressure of something wet slide up along your slit and you throw your head back, an uncontrollable moan ripping through your lips.

You hadn’t realized the taste would be for him.

[yeoandmoon]

you are now listening to graceland too by phoebe bridgers! ( yeosang x f!reader )

fluff, burnout!yeosang, bassist!yeosang, writer!reader, childhood friends 2 lovers but also idiots 2 lovers, yeosang and reader run away, seongjoong are engaged, wooyoung + yeonjun have a band, there is only one bed, yeosang has a nose ring, it’s implied reader has a bad relationship with her mother, wc is 3.1k

NOTE: happy yeosang day! this was a doozy to write, but i hope you all enjoy it! its based off one of my favourite phoebe bridgers songs! :)

There’s a mural on the wall of the hotel lobby. It’s a warm toned painting of a forest, with a hint of a bright blue sky peeking out from the top of the trees. There’s a moose standing at the forefront of the mural, and a little fox sleeping on a rock towards the bottom, surrounded by colourful flowers and leaves.

The mural confused you, if you were being honest. The hotel you worked the night audit at was situated in the busy downtown centre of the city you lived in, and there were barely any forests for miles around the city - let alone any wildlife, like moose or foxes. Hongjoong said it was to make guests feel more ‘in touch with nature’ and to help people forget about the ‘problems of the real world’, while Yeosang claimed it was ‘just another scam in the tourist trap’.

You, on the other hand, was sure the mural was put there to torture you. You would spend nights having staring contests with the moose (which, to your surprise, you always lost), or you would spend hours on Google with Hongjoong trying to find out what species of fox the sleeping fox was (you were sure it was a cape fox, while Hongjoong swore up and down that it was a gray fox). The blue sky between the trees teased you; a reminder that most of your days were spent in the library at your university, or in this dimly lit lobby.

Sometimes, it felt like the only time you saw the sunshine was when you were with Yeosang.

Despite the occasional burnout and the lack of seeing sun most days, you didn’t mind the job. You were always more of a night person, and your classes were always later in the day so you did manage to pull in some sleep. Due to the late hours, you usually only dealt with customers in the first hour or two of your shift, and most of that was just directing confused Ubereats delivery people and pretty Tinder dates to hallways and rooms. It was the perfect job to work on your writing, and get your school work out of the way without listening to your mother cry about how you’re throwing your life away like your sister.

Plus, you could think of a hundred worse people to spend the night shift with than the nighttime valet, Hongjoong. Hongjoong often kept you occupied with his latest reforms and art projects, and stories about his fiancee, Seonghwa & their friend, Yunho (who he kept insisting you needed to go on a date with).

“Your emo boy is coming.”

Well, you could think of ninety-nine worse people to spend the night shift with than Hongjoong, who sat next to you at the check-in desk.

You scoff, “He’s not my emo boy.” You mumble, glancing at the street entrance to see Yeosang walk in with an ice coffee on hand.

Despite your words, Kang Yeosang was your person (you wouldn’t quite use the term ‘emo boy’, even if it did fit), and he had been since your family moved in next door to his family when you two were children. Although your friendship lately had been reduced to these late night meetings while you two were on break on your respective graveyard shifts (you at the hotel and Yeosang at the convenience store down the block, of course) and occasional meetings in the garden when you were both running errands for your families, you still considered Yeosang one of your dearest memories.

It was hard not too, you suppose. He had been there for many of your firsts, and was always cheering you on. Yeosang always made you feel powerful and important - like a powerful heroine, and not his bratty next door neighbor who cried on his doorstep after being dumped by her first year partner. He always made you feel wanted.

Yeosang grinned at you as he stepped into the lobby (if your heart fluttered in your chest, you ignored it). He had on a backwards dad cap, and he had recently changed his nose ring out for the gold hoop San had bought him for his birthday. You could just faintly see his birthmark peeking out from where his bleach blonde hair curled under the hat.

“Hello, Sunshine.” He greets you, setting the coffee down on your desk.

You set the pen you were holding down, “Hi Yeosang.”

Upon first glance at Yeosang, you can tell he’s buzzing about something. He’s leaning over the check-in counter and chewing on his lip while making small talk with Hongjoong about the tourist season.

You raise an eyebrow, sipping your coffee as Yeosang turns back to you, “Do you remember Wooyoung and Yeonjun?”

You nearly choke on your coffee at the mention of your other neighbor and ex-boyfriend. Wooyoung had moved onto your street a few years after you had, and quickly became apart of the little bond you and Yeosang had formed. He moved to the coast with Yeonjun, your ex, the first chance they had gotten, but Wooyoung’s family remained in the neighborhood.

“I babysat Woo’s brother the other day…” You watched your friend, “Did something happen? Mrs Jung didn’t say anything the other day.”

Yeosang grins, and it’s his scheming grin, “Their band got signed,” He tells you, “They need a new bassist, and Wooyoung showed them that video you took of me from that show last month. Their label wants me to come down; play a few shows with them, record a couple demos. See if we have chemistry, basically.”

Your eyes widen - both out of excitement and fear. You were happy and excited for Yeosang! This is the opportunity he had been wanting for years, but you were also terrified.

You were terrified in a horrible, selfish way because you knew if Yeosang left to join Wooyoung and Yeonjun, he’d never come back to you.

“That’s… That’s great, Yeo!” You manage a grin whilst trying to shove the selfish thoughts away, “When do they want you there?”

Yeosang’s smile falters, just for a moment but you still catch it, “Monday.”

“F-Five days?”

He nods, “I’m leaving Saturday morning, so I can be there Sunday afternoon.”

You can see it in his eyes; he’s terrified too.

Before you can say anything else, Yeosang leans over the check-in counter and presses a chaste kiss to your forehead, “I have to get back to work, Sunshine.” He tells you, his voice quiet as if he’s giving you a secret, “I’ll see you later.”

He’s already halfway down the lobby when you swear and move out of your chair, you quickly call his name as you move out from behind the desk. You rush over to where he’s standing, and look up at him. He’s confused.

He opens his mouth to say something, but the words die in his throat when you pull him into a tight hug, “I’m proud of you, Yeo.”

Yeosang wraps his arms around you, pulling you closer to him. His chest is warm, and you’re sure you could spend hours here. He smiles, pressing another kiss to your head, “I know, Sunshine.” He pulls away, his hand on your arm, “I really do have to go, though. I’m already late for work.”

You nod, wrapping your arms around your torso as you watch him leave the hotel and turn down the street to go back to the convenience store. When you turn back around, Hongjoong is watching you with an amused look on his face.

You glare at him as you walk back to the desk, “Don’t you have a fiance to call, or something?”

----------------

You were tired.

Friday nights were always busy, but tonight was draining and loud and you could only take so much of Miss Liu’s incessant phone calls about mundane things at 3am. All you wanted to do was go home, and fall into your bed and sleep for hours.

Hongjoong didn’t help your mood either. It was an innocent question about Yeosang, asking if you’d seen him since he visited you on his break but it pushed your mood down to a low point. You had been so busy the past few days, and if you were being honest with yourself, you had been avoiding Yeosang.

You weren’t ready to see him leave. You knew it was selfish, but you figured avoiding Yeosang was easier than admitting you didn’t want him to leave you behind. You would just simply watch his life through Instagram and consider the ‘what-ifs’ in your life.

You shouldered your tote bag after clocking out before yelling a good-bye to Hongjoong. You could see the beginning rays of morning sun hitting the other buildings in the downtown core as you stepped out the employee doors, and then you were hit by the sight of Yeosang leaning against one of the pillars.

Your eyes widen, “Yeosan-”

“Come with me.”

You stop. Your words are left in your throat, “W-Wh… Go with you? To the coast?”

Yeosang nods, “Come with me,” He steps forward, taking your hands in his, “What do you have here? A degree you don’t care about? A job you hate?”

You frown, running over his words in your head, “I-I have my mom. And… I have Hongjoong!”

He raises an eyebrow, “Y/N, Sunshine… Your mom will barely notice you’re gone, and Hongjoong can visit us.” He cupped your cheek.

You’re so busy having an internal crisis you hardly notice the usage of ‘us’. You’re considering the logistics in your head. Yeosang was right; you didn’t care about your degree, and all it would take was an email saying you quit for them to find a new front desk person. Your mom would be upset for a few weeks. She’d probably make some passive aggressive Facebook posts about you before acting like your best friend again.

“Yeosang…” You look up at him, your hand coming up to circle around his wrist.

“Your sister is there, and you could write everyday.” Yeosang adds on, “I did the math, Y/N. Between the two of us, we’d have 6 months to figure it out. 6 months, and we’ll come back here if nothing works out.”

You stay silent for a moment.

“Sunshine, I promised I’d show you the stars, didn’t I?”

You gasp at the promise. It was a silly promise he had made when you were both kids; something you’d almost forgotten about.

It hits you quickly: there’s no one else you’d rather run away with. There’s no one else you’d trust to run away with.

You look up at Yeosang, “Yes.”

He grins, “Yes?”

You nod, “Yes, Yeo. I’ll go with you.”

----------------

An hour. An hour was how long it took for you to turn your life upside down for Kang Yeosang.

In an hour, you had emailed your program advisor and told them you wouldn’t be returning for the next semester, and you had called your manager and told them you wouldn’t be coming in for your next shift, or any shift after that (which was promptly followed by a phone call from Hongjoong, who seemed more excited about this than you were). You had packed up most of your clothes and important belongings, and they were loaded into the back of Yeosang’s shitty car. You left a note for your mother, and before you knew it, you were sitting in the passenger’s seat of Yeosang’s car.

----------------

You had fallen asleep barely an hour into the car ride. 

The rolling hills and fields outside your window made your eyes feel heavier, but you tried staying awake to keep Yeosang company.

“Go to sleep, Sunshine.” He tells you, “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

Yeosang’s promise was all it took for you to succumb to your exhaustion.

You don't usually remember your dreams. Though today, there are flashes of a beach, and a smile that takes your breath away. There are blue skies and if you try hard enough, you can just faintly smell sea salt.

You wake up hours later, smiling. True to his word, Yeosang is still there when you wake. He’s wearing a pair of sunglasses, and tapping his fingers to the beat of the song on the radio.

Yeosang smiles when he notices you’re awake, “I talked to your mother.”

Your eyes widen, “You talked to who?”

He laughs, “You didn’t answer your phone, so she called me.”

You frown, glancing at your phone in the free cup holder. You could imagine the amount of calls and texts that were in there.

“She wasn’t very happy.” Yeosang continues, “She wants you to call her when we get there.”

You nod, “Thank you, Yeo.” You say softly, looking over at him.

Yeosang throws you a smile, “Of course.”

“Not just for talking to my mom…” You watch him, “For not leaving me behind, too. Thank you.”

Yeosang reaches over, taking your hand, “I’d never leave you behind, Sunshine. You’d have to try really hard to get rid of me.”

----------------

The car ride was long, and full of Yeosang’s early 2000s emo playlist & fast food. You called your sister, who was ecstatic to hear about your plans and had immediately offered you and Yeosang her beach house. She made a comment about how ‘she always knew you two would end up together’, and it made your heart flutter when you glanced at Yeosang.

Yeosang told you about Wooyoung’s band, and how excited he was to play with Wooyoung. You smiled, listening to him fondly talk about your old friends and their music.

It was getting late though, and you could see it in Yeosang’s face that he was getting tired.

“We should stop for the night.” You tell him, “You’ve been driving since 6am, Yeo.”

He huffs, “We could drive through the night.” He proposes, “We’d make it to your sister’s place in a few hours.”

You frown, “Or... We could stop for the night, shower, and then leave first thing tomorrow morning. We'll get there by noon tomorrow.”

Yeosang glances at you, going to protest. He ends up yawning instead, his nose wrinkling slightly, “Fine.” He pouts.

You laugh, reaching for your phone to google the closest hotels. There's a comfortable silence in the car, filled with the occasional beat of Yeosang’s fingers on the steering wheel. You feel at ease, even if it's just for a moment.

“There’s a motel off the next exit.” You tell him, stifling a yawn of your own.

----------------

Sure enough, there had been a motel off the next exit. It was small and slightly rundown, but cheap and had an available room. You waited in the car while Yeosang went into the check-in office, promising to be back in a moment.

He came back dangling a key in his hand, and a slight frown on his face as he opened the car door to let you out.

“So... There’s only one bed.” He broke the news, a blush growing up his cheeks, “It’s all they had, unless we wanted to drive another hour down the highway.”

Your eyes widen, “O-Oh.” You glance at the key, and then back up at Yeosang, “I’ll sleep on the floor, or something.”

Yeosang frowns, shaking his head, “We can share for one night, Sunshine. I think it’ll be okay.”

Which leads you to here; lying almost nose to nose with Yeosang. Your hair was soaking wet from a shower in the tiny bathroom and the small motel bed wasn’t comfortable, but you didn’t seem to mind as you took in the man in front of you. You pushed the strands of bleach blonde hair out of his face, and your fingers softly lingered on the birthmark next to his eye.

His breath stuttered, “Y/N,” He says, his voice a mere whisper, “We’re free.”

You let your hand rest against his cheek. Your eyes lingered on his lips before you caught yourself, moving your gaze back up to his eyes.

Yeosang only smiled at you. He gently held your wrist as he tilted his head and placed a soft kiss on your palm, “I’m going to kiss you now, Sunshine.”

“Yes please.”

You felt every nerve in your body light up when Yeosang kissed you.

A small part of your brain told you that this is where you’re meant to be: in Yeosang’s arms.

You felt this way the first time Yeosang had kissed you too, all the way back on that roof in 11th grade. You two had been talking about the future; about your writing and Yeosang’s music. You looked up at the hazy night sky, and you asked Yeosang if you’d ever get to see the stars.

He smiled at you, telling you that he would show them to you one day before he kissed you so sweetly.

Yeosang still kissed you sweetly. He kissed you like you held the secrets of the universe in your hand for him to take.

You pulled away, “I think I love you.”

He smiles against your lips, rubbing soft circles into your wrist, “I think I love you too, baby.”

—————-

You had this assumption that the next morning would be awkward; that you would be stuck for the next 6 months with someone you could barely look in the eye because of a late night confession.

Instead, you awoke to Yeosang kissing your head and placing a bagel & ice coffee down for you. He had quickly ushered you into the shower, before you put on a change of clothes and were quickly led out to the car between bites of your bagel. This all happened over Yeosang telling you how you only had a few hours before you reached your sister’s beach house, and he wanted to try and make good time so you could enjoy the beach today.

You giggled at his antics before settling into the passenger’s seat for the last few hours of your journey.

You sipped your ice coffee as you watched out the window. The countryside on the highway zoomed by you, and the car was full of sunlight from Yeosang’s sunroof being open. There was a Fall Out Boy song on the radio, and you felt a sense of calm brush over you as Yeosang took your hand in his.

The sunshine had never felt so nice on your skin as Yeosang pressed a soft kiss to the back of your hand.

taglist: @vanishingboots @sunsethw4​ 

[badbhye]

feels like summer (m)

You only have one question on your mind this summer: when did Jeon Jungkook get abs?

pairing: jungkook x reader

genre: neighbor au, smut, fluff, angst (if u squint)

warnings:  alcohol mention, drinking, explicit sexual content; voyeurism, masturbation, fingering, dom/sub-themes, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, oral sex (m/f receiving), throat fucking, cum play, grinding, gagging, oc has a muscle kink, jungkook’s character doing a whole 180 halfway through the plot

word count: 16.6k

A/N: This was originally written for the BSC Drabble Exchange and obviously I’m two months late...but also....this spiraled out of drabble territory so fast. But to the person who originally requested this, I hope you see it and enjoy it! Please don’t forget to send in some feedback, and I apologize for any mistakes!

"You're drooling a little there," Yoongi mumbles, nudging your arm.

"Will you shut up," you glare, trying to focus on the article you're supposed to be reviewing but it's difficult. How can you focus on Market Upheavals when Jeon Jungkook is doing pull-ups in his backyard.

You don't know how it happened but when you came back home from college one fine day, Jungkook had just changed. He wasn't just the kid who stuck to your brother like a second skin, following him around like a lost puppy anymore. He had grown up. A little too much, you think to yourself when he lifts his shirt to wipe the sweat that had collected on his forehead. You think you're mistaken, but you catch him looking right where you're sitting, and when he does, you have to hold back the jolt of shivers that threaten to go down your spine.

"Hey, hyung," he calls, waving his hand to Yoongi before making his way over the short fence. "I wanted to ask if I could go over some of my compositions with you later."

"Yeah, stop by sometime before 8, my shift starts at 11," Yoongi responds without looking up from his phone. Jungkook lets out a non-committal hum in acknowledgment before he leans over to you, invading your personal space so all you can see is his sweaty torso. Your eyes budge at the way his muscles flex and follow the way a drop of sweat trails down the side of his jaw, down to his neck. He's so close you can feel his breath on your skin, his eyes noting your reactions and you swear you see a corner of his lips twitch. "Noona," he says, voice lower than normal. Your eyes jolt to meet his own, mouth suddenly very dry.

"You're sitting on my towel," he points towards the offending cloth placed snugly between the dock chair and your thighs.

"Oh," you let out, voice uncharacteristically weak but you comply nonetheless, moving so he can slide it out from under you. He grazes the skin of your thigh lightly, and you know he's doing it on purpose. You don't know when he got so bold, last time you were home he'd barely even look at you for more than a minute before he was reduced to a blushing, stuttering mess.

But that was two summers ago and the scrawny, awkward boy you used to know is no longer there.

All too soon, he shuffles back as if the interaction never happened. You're ashamed enough to peek a glance at Yoongi, who is still focused on his phone. If he noticed anything, he's feigning ignorance which you're thankful for. When Jungkook's done obnoxiously drying off the sweat off his body, going as far as to take off his shirt completely and flinging the flimsy cloth on his shoulder as he finishes drying his hair. You're left in utter shock, shamelessly ogling his movements, especially the way his shoulder blades flex with every shift of his arms. When he bids goodbye to Yoongi with a promise to meet up later, he turns once more to catch your gaze. His expression dancing with playful mirth, "Bye, noona!" He calls, almost sweetly, and you gulp. When he's gone, you feel like you can finally breathe again, you turn towards the dreaded article you should have been done analyzing by now when you notice Yoongi's eyes on you.

"What do you want?" You say, not sparing him a glance.

"You know..." he yawns a little, almost bored. "I really didn't need to see you and Jeon eye-fucking each other like that," moving to leave his spot on the adjacent dock chair.

"I don't know what you're talking about," you try to busy yourself once again but the flush of your cheeks gives you away. Plus, it's Yoongi. You could never hide anything from him, even if you wanted to.

"Please," he rolls his eyes. "Cut the crap, you think I don't know about your little crush on him?"

You can't help but sputter at his blunt words though it shouldn't be surprising to you anymore. He doesn't wait on you to answer him before he makes his way back inside and you try to focus on your work again — the keyword being try.

 The list of work you'd made when you were feeling especially productive glares at you from your desk. Clearly, the thought of being ahead in your classes, or even catching up to your current courses was not something you'd be able to pull off this time. The reason for this belated realization: Jeon Jungkook. It wasn't as if you weren't used to him being at your house all the time, you'd practically grown up together. Well, in the neighborly sense. He never spent too much time with you, opting to accompany Yoongi instead. You always wondered whether the boy had an issue with you, maybe he just didn’t like you. It never bothered you too much, you had eventually brushed it off because you had your own thing going on. It wasn't until high school that you and Yoongi's social circles merged but Jungkook still kept his distance.

But now, it's like he's always there. Always in your field of vision. It's not like you try to seek him out (you tell yourself) but it's like he knows where you'll be. It's almost domestic seeing him help your mother bring in the groceries or mowing the yard for your father. And when you pass by him, he always makes sure to acknowledge you, and boy, do you. Ever since he's grown out of his lanky body and filled out a bit more, he's started wearing more form-fitting clothes. Like the white shirt, he's wearing right now. He's been watering the plants in his backyard and because of the heat today washed himself off too. You're conveniently sitting on your porch, laptop in tow but you're not working. How can you when you have the perfect view of how the material of his shirt sticks to his abdomen. The only question in your mind right now is when did Jungkook get abs? You haven't been away from home for that long... or maybe you just didn't notice before. Just then, he lifts his wet shirt over his head and you find it impossible that you couldn't have noticed. And you swear he maintains eye contact with you when he does it, the fucker even has the audacity to smirk.

The silent staring contest is shattered when Yoongi comes out, probably trying to sneak a smoke before your mom gets home.

"I really can't get a moment of peace, can I?" He settles against the porch railing, fishing a cigarette out of his pocket.

You and me both, you begrudgingly think but you keep that thought to yourself, forcing your eyes away from Jungkook to look at Yoongi instead.

"What's up?" You ask, concern evident in your voice. Yoongi wasn't one to complain.

He takes a long drag. "They're giving me overtime for the entire week...won't have time to compose."

You frown, Yoongi barely had any free time on his hands. He worked at the local radio station during the dead hours of the night along with helping out your mom with any housework and composing music whenever he could on top of it all. You feel terrible because you're barely home because of college and you know that's affected Yoongi. You're aware that he most likely regrets dropping out but you know it wasn't his calling. He was wasting his talents by sticking to studying business so you still support his decision. But, maybe staying home wasn't as good as you thought it would be for him. If you could take his place, you would in a heartbeat but you know he'd never let you. He was always like that.

"If you need any help..." You offer, but you know your attempt is futile, "I can take mom out for errands when I'm here."

"Do you think she'll let you drive Petunia?" He laughs, putting out the cigarette before he's even done smoking half of it.

"I'm good at driving," you defend yourself. You admit you were never the best driver but you had gotten your license fair and square.

"I'm happy you want to help," your mother says placing heaps of food onto a plate she especially prepared for Jungkook. "But I'd rather you not drive my car."

You glare at Yoongi when he laughs at your expense.

"I have a license," you remind them quickly but all it does is give a non-committal hum from your mother. It’s rather embarrassing to have your family ridicule your driving skills, especially when Jungkook’s joined you for dinner tonight.

“I’m happy to help out,” Jungkook meekly pipes in. “I drive my dad’s truck for errands all the time, so it won’t be an issue.”

“You’re such a helpful young boy, any girl would be lucky to snatch you up,” your mother coos, ruffling his hair causing him to let out a small laugh, briefly meeting your eyes before he’s too busy trying to keep your mother from adding even more food onto his plate.

The subject on your part, unfortunately, is dropped for the moment and you angrily eat the rest of your dinner.

A couple of days go by and you've forgotten about the whole thing altogether. You find yourself busy with yet another reading you had until you hear your mom come through the front door.

"Just set these here, sweetie," she motions towards the counter in the kitchen. And in tow, you see none other than Jungkook carrying three big bags of groceries with such ease. You don't know if you're jealous that he can carry that much in one go when it probably would take you two trips, but you can't lie and say you didn't just ogle at the way the muscles of his arms flex.

"So, they said the shipment of those Torx screwdrivers were coming in at 4, so they should have them by now," your mother informs him while she's unloading the fresh produce.

"Ah, I can go now then," Jungkook responds, putting the cereal away. By spending so much time here, he'd become to familiarise himself with how things were in your house. He probably had a whole system set up by the way he was moving so quickly. You manage to bring your focus back to your work successfully, although it proves to be a difficult feat. It isn't until you hear your mother call out your name that your focus breaks once more.

"___," she repeats, coming into the living room where you're seated. "I need you to go run some errands with Jungkook."

Your head whips up so fast you almost give yourself whiplash. "H-huh? Didn't you just get the groceries?"

Your mother pins you with a look that indicates not to ask questions. "You said you wanted to help out around the house."

The complaint that threatens to spill out is quickly stopped in its tracks when you see the expectant look on Jungkook's face when he peeks in from the kitchen. Your resolve is so easy to break. You huff, roughly putting away your books before you go to put on some shoes — you can't look too eager now.

It's silent in the car for a couple of minutes, but it's a long drive. Leave it to your mom to stay loyal to the hardware store that's all the way across town. It's a little awkward sitting in close quarters with Jungkook after the way you've been thinking about him these days...you almost feel guilty. So, you focus on the radio instead, listening to whatever mindless pop song that plays next. It's when Jungkook clears his throat when he's stopped at the red light, slowly lowering the volume of the radio that you're reminded of your situation. You're alone with Jungkook.

"So," he begins, eyeing you briefly, "How have you been, noona?"

You peer over at him, "Oh...um same old, I guess."

He hums, "...Are you still seeing uh, Joonho?"

"Junho," you correct him. "And no, we split after he graduated."

"Oh good," he mumbles under his breath but backtracks immediately when he realizes you heard him. "Ah, I mean I hope you're doing good after the split..."

"Nice save," you chuckle as he rubs the shell of his ears nervously. "I'm fine," you clarify, eyeing the radio. "It was a mutual decision."

When he doesn't respond, you sigh, moving to turn up the volume again so you don't have to deal with the silence. Jungkook's just doing your mom a favor anyway, it's not like he wants to be alone with you.

Soon enough, you become hyper-aware of the fact that Jungkook is in the car with you and god, why did the hardware store have to be all the way across town? You stare at him from the corner of your eye but have to stop yourself when your thoughts start going south once again.

"So," you clear your throat, talking loud enough so he can hear you over the radio. "How have you been?" You redirect his question back to him. "How's college been?"

"Oh, um," Jungkook stammers a bit as if he's embarrassed. "I'm thinking of dropping out..."

You shut the radio at that and turn to face him completely, "Why?"

He looks over to you at your bluntness. "Huh?"

"Jeon Jungkook, please don't tell me you're dropping out because Yoongi did," you accuse, sounding almost angry.

"Noona, how could you think so lowly of me?" He pouts. "It was just something I was thinking about," he admits, turning to park the car.

"This isn't something you can just do, Jungkook," you explain. "It's a big decision that has real consequences...have you talked to anyone about this?"

"No..." he mumbles, "You're the first one to know."

You sigh, putting a hand on his knee. Immediately, he stiffens under your hold so you begin to move away but he quickly takes a hold of your hand before you can. There's silence for a minute until you very awkwardly clear your throat.

"Jungkook," you begin, "Are you happy?"

"What do you mean?" His eyes widen at your very personal question.

"I mean...are you happy with what you're doing, is it your own decision or did something happen?" You switch your words around because you realize Jungkook probably wouldn't want to tell you something as personal as this.

He stays silent for a while, contemplating what to say, his eyes not leaving your hands, he intertwines his fingers with yours without thought. Your breath hitches but you don't pull away...it feels nice.

"I don't know," he admits, a little wistfully.

You frown and wait for him to continue, thumb rubbing soothing circles on his hand.

"I just think I'm doing something wrong, wasting my father's money...especially after-" he catches himself before he can tell you the extent of his problems. Clearing his throat, he looks away but doesn't let go of your hand. "It's nothing," he concludes.

"It isn't nothing," you defend him. "Jungkook, I understand if you're uncomfortable with me because we've never been close, but I want you to know that I'm here for you, okay?" You pass a reassuring smile at him. "I care about you a lot, you're like a...brother to me."

You feel gross lying to him like that but you need to put your needs aside, Jungkook's wellbeing is way more important than some sexual fantasy. But to your surprise, he doesn't respond the way you thought he would, at most you expected him to shyly laugh. Instead, his brows furrow, and he frowns. He doesn't say anything, just lets go of your hand and moves to get out of the car. You don't dwell on it too much because just then you receive a text from your mother.

 Honey, I forgot the coffee your brother likes, would you please grab it on your way back?

 "Hey, I'm going next door," you call out to Jungkook as you get out of the car. You're a little thankful that you don't have to be next to Jungkook because, right now, all you can think of the way he reacted. It was probably the most aggravated you'd seen him react in such close quarters. You quickly grab the brand of coffee Yoongi prefers and continue to browse the aisles of the store, not really paying attention to what you're looking at.

"Can't decide between boxers or briefs?" Jungkook chuckles and you flush a deep crimson.

You hadn't realized you were staring at men's underwear.

"...It's for Yoongi?" You grimace, already regretting your words as you're saying them.

Jungkook bursts into loud laughter, nose scrunching and all. You can't help but smile at that, glad that the tension has ebbed away.

"Okay, the jig is up!" You raise your hands in surrender. "...I wear men's underwear."

"That's sexy, noona," Jungkook grins leaning down so the two of you are eye to eye.

Your laugh dies in your throat because, once again, you find Jungkook in your personal space. You can't stop the way you inhale sharply, eyeing at how close his lips are to your own. He's so close, you can feel his breath on your skin, and you're sure he can feel yours on his too. It feels like forever before he moves back, but not before his own eyes fall down to your lips. The corners of his lips lightly lift in a smile smiles before he breaks the moment and walks towards the counter. You meekly follow behind, clutching the coffee tightly in your grasp, mind still reeling from what just happened.

You're dazed. The ride back doesn't even seem that long compared to the ride there. You lean back on your seat, head leaning against the window, focusing on the low hum of the music.

"You're wrong, noona," Jungkook says after a couple of silent minutes go by. You peer at him in question, silently urging him to continue.

"I'm not uncomfortable with you," he turns to look at you before eyeing the road again. You hum in acknowledgment, "That's nice to hear, Kook."

It's silent again but you hear Jungkook mumble something so softly you think you might've been mistaken.

"I care a lot about you too."

 After the whole grocery store ordeal, you notice Jungkook begins to spend a little more time with you. He still retreats to Yoongi like before, but it's still progress in your books.

You're lounging around when Jungkook comes by and takes a seat close to you, he doesn't say anything but smiles in lieu of a greeting.

"What's up?" You ask, eyes not leaving your phone. Not that you're doing much on it anyway, you'd just gotten done feeding your virtual cats. "If you're waiting on Yoongi, he's out...probably with Namjoon," you continue.

"I wanted to spend time with you," Jungkook admits, a shy smile playing on his lips.

That's one thing you appreciate, as much as Jungkook has weakened your resolve a significant amount, there are still moments where you see the same lanky, shy boy you admire so much. Or maybe you just like to see him squirm.

"Sure, what do you wanna do?" You look away from your phone to smile at him. The two of you had hung out a handful of times after the car ride, and it ended up being quite nice. You realized that you two had a lot more in common than you originally thought.

"It's nice out today so why don't we go out for a walk?" He suggests.

"You trying to get me to exercise more, Jeon?" You tease, peering out the window to assess the damage you'll be suspecting yourself to.

“Come on, noona, you've been cooped up in here ever since you've come home,” Jungkook whines, poking at your side. “You're getting lazy.”

“Hey, I am not cooped up in here, and this is my vacation, I deserve to be lazy,” you playfully glare from your spot on the couch, laying back further so your legs are spread on his thighs.

He laughs but doesn't make you move your legs off him. Instead, he places his hands on your knees and slowly begins to massage them. You try to feign ignorance to his touch, to keep your eyes glued to anything but him or his hands but it becomes so difficult when one of his hands moves up to your thighs, fingers putting light pressure on the muscle as they slowly begin trailing up your legs.

You don't move, eyes transfixed to the way his fingers ghost the skin of your thighs, leaving goosebumps in their wake. Even though you try to act like his touch doesn't affect you, your body immediately betrays you when a shudder wracks through you. And you swear you see the corners of Jungkook's mouth lift a little before you awkwardly cough, disrupting the moment.

"The only way you'll have me outside is if you carry me the whole way," you decide.

"I'll happily carry you, noona!" Jungkook laughs, grabbing your hand to pull you up. You greatly misjudge his strength and in a blink of an eye, he has you sitting up and trapped in his grasp. Your eyes widen in shock at your sudden close proximity and you nervously clear your throat before scampering to your feet.

"Let's go then," you briskly walk towards the entrance to put on your shoes.

 Once you're standing on the street you grew up in, you turn back to Jungkook who had wordlessly followed your lead. "So, where are you taking me?"

Jungkook laughs nervously before taking ahold of your hand and dragging you towards the park at the end of the street.

"Are you seriously taking me to the park," you laugh as you let him drag you. His pace is faster than yours so you have to move quickly to keep up with his long legs.

"Jungkook! Hold on," you pant, pulling at his wrist to make him stop in his tracks. He looks back and flushes. “Sorry noona,” he responds, slowing his pace to walk in sync next to you but not letting go of your hand.

It’s when you reach the middle of the park that you let go and take a seat on one of the swings.

“God, I haven’t been here in so long,” you say, sitting limply on the swing.

“You haven’t been back in so long,” Jungkook says, taking a seat on the swing next to yours.

“Okay, that’s fair,” you quip, giving him a side-eye before smiling. “I had different plans for the future back then.”

“With Junho?” Jungkook asks, a little cautious when you don’t respond immediately.

“...Yeah,” you say, kicking your legs so you start swinging slowly.

“What happened between the two of you?” He asks, “I mean, you don’t have to tell me unless you want to,” he stammers, backpedaling a little.

“It’s okay, Kook,” you reassure him. “We just grew apart. Fell out of love, I guess,” you try to explain. “It was a good relationship but we were in different places in our lives, so we decided to break up. Simple,” you shrug.

“What about you, though,” you peer over to him. “You got stuff out of me, it’s your turn now.”

“That’s fair,” he chuckles, kicking his legs so he’s swinging too. “What do you want to know?”

“Why are you considering dropping out?” You turn to face him once the swing stops.

“Wow… you’re blunt, noona.”

“I don’t beat around the bush,” you sniff and wait for him to continue.

Jungkook chuckles, ruffling his hair, “I think I’m gonna end up being a disappointment.”

“Jungkook…” you begin, actually surprised to hear those words from him. “I don’t think you can be more wrong, you know Yoongi’s been telling me just how talented you are for years. He barely calls or texts when I’m not home and when he does, it’s always to tell me how proud he is of you.”

He’s silent for a while, letting the swing stop on its own before he looks up at you again. “Have you heard any of it?”

“I haven’t,” you respond, moving to get off the swing. “Come on, there’s a place I want to go to.”

You two walk towards the trees that line one side of the park, leading to a clearing surrounded by a thicker layer of foliage. It’s a comfortable sort of silence that sits between you as you make your way through the path. When you reach the familiar tree, you smile, moving to sit where you used to spend most of your evenings as a child, Jungkook gingerly taking a seat next to you.

“You remember this place,” he says after a few moments.

“Uh, this is my spot,” you clarify, pointing towards the tree bark where fourteen year old you had carved out your initials.

“Sorry to say, noona, but you’ve been gone too long,” Jungkook sniffs, motioning towards another carving on the tree trunk. You follow his movements and see another dull indentation of the initials “JK”, not far from your own.

“Jungkook, how could you!” You say trying to sound angry, even though the telltale signs of a smile started ghosting your lips. “How dare you not follow the sacred rules of finders keepers losers weepers!”

Jungkook laughs, shrugging. “It’s free real estate, plus I hung out here just as often as you did.”

“Oh yeah, this is where you’d follow me to and then ignore me all day,” you laugh, remembering all the times you’d sit by the tree to read whatever trashy romance novel you’d stolen from your friend’s mom’s closet and he’d come by, sitting on the opposite end, doing whatever he always did. You’d barely talk, you’d sometimes offer him a juice box and he’d sometimes place a peanut butter sandwich next to you before scurrying off. The both of you chuckle together, reminding each other of memories you’d shared there until you fall into another comfortable silence.

 “I want to, by the way,” you say, when the sun starts to set, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink. “Listen to your music,” you clarify when he raises a brow in question. “I know it’s a very personal thing to ask for, and even Yoongi barely lets me listen to his pieces, but I’d like to,” you smile, resting your hand on the plush grass, watching the way your fingers are swallowed by the long blades. “If you’d let me.”

Jungkook smiles, cheeks dusting a light pink before he places his hand on yours. “I’d like that.”

It's dark out by the time you get home but it feels like barely any time had passed. You're fairly certain that nobody's home but that doesn't stop you from calling out when you slip off your shoes.

"In here," you hear Yoongi's voice from the living room.

"Don't you have work tonight?" You ask when you spot him lounging on the sofa. You stop in your tracks when you notice Hoseok's presence.

"When did you get here?" You gush, running to crush him in a hug.

"Picked him up an hour ago," Yoongi responds before Hoseok can answer you, though you doubt he'd be able to because you still have him tight in your grasp.

"If you missed me this much, babe, why don't we take this to the bedroom?" Hoseok chuckles, swiftly dodging the pillow Yoongi throws his way. You laugh, used to Hoseok's incessant flirting, almost missing it.

"Why don't you take me right here, right now," you challenge, taking a seat.

"God, if you guys were gonna be fucking gross, I wouldn't have brought him here," Yoongi groans, grimacing at your shameless flirting.

"It's been a while, hyung," another voice calls, and that's when you remember Jungkook was here too. He's still standing in the doorway, face impassive, a clear contrast to how he was smiling at you just moments ago.

"Jungkook! How've you been?" Hoseok goes to give him a hug, you don't miss the way Jungkook's eyes meet yours in their embrace.

Hoseok promptly takes a seat next to you, grabbing your ankles so your legs rest over his lap.

"How long are you here for, Hobi?" You stretch your legs a little more.

"Hmm, probably for two weeks? I'm giving a class in the studio, also have to visit my sister."

"Oh, is Jiwoo still married?"

"Thankfully," he huffs, "Otherwise she'd be stuck up my ass all the time."

"That's a shame," you hum, "Let her know whenever she's ready to leave that husband of hers, I'll be waiting."

"So, you're gonna cheat on me...with my own sister?" He jokingly accuses, already closing the distance between the two of you.

“How else will I bring drama into my life?” You justify as he pulls you closer to grab hold of your waist and begin his attack.

Your cries are violent as you immediately thrash in his hold, tears streaming down your face as you can't hold back your laughter. In the midst of all the chaos, nobody notices Jungkook leave.

  A couple of days go by and you don't see Jungkook as often anymore. Sure, you catch him doing some chores here and there but it's not the same. Shockingly, you've been significantly more productive these days with most of the list crossed out already. So, there's not much left to do. So you decide to do the first thing that comes to mind — barge into Yoongi's room. Surprisingly, he's awake and flinches when he hears the door burst open. You ignore his curses and ungracefully flop down on his bed.

"What do you want?" He sneers from his place on the desk, headphones propped away from his ears so he can hear you.

"I'm bored," you sniff, turning to face him.

"The fuck should I do then?"

"When did you get so boring?" You whine. "Let's get drunk or something...since Hoseok's here too," you reason.

"Yeah, we could..." he says, eyes going back to his laptop screen. "But I think I've seen you and Jung hook up enough to last me a lifetime."

"You know he'd blow you before he'd as much as kiss me," you challenge, laughing when he bristles at your words.

"Get the fuck out of my room!"

You easily dodge the balls of dirty socks he flings your way, laughing as you make your way out of his room.

It's a pleasant night and you find yourself sitting in your backyard once again, drinking wine you swiped from your mother's stash. It's quiet, and you're humming to yourself, enjoying the buzz of alcohol in your veins. That's when you see Jungkook in his own backyard and you wave him over, showcasing the bottle of wine as temptingly as you can.

"You know I got that for your mom," Jungkook takes a seat next to you, but still takes the bottle from you.

"Are you trying to woo my mother?" You raise an eyebrow, trying to bite back a smile.

"I plan on becoming your second dad by the end of the year," he takes a swig, grimacing at the bitter taste.

"Well, I'd suggest you get Pinot Noir and I guarantee you'll have her by the end of the month," you wink, taking the bottle back.

He laughs and the two of you settle into a comfortable silence, passing the bottle back and forth until it's half empty. The headiness of the wine finally gets to you and you begin to sway a little.

"Where were you?" You ask rather bluntly.

"I was here," he responds, confused at your sudden question.

"No," you sigh, pushing the stray hair out of your face. "I mean...were you avoiding me or something?"

"N-no," he stammers, rubbing the back of his neck. "...Okay, maybe a little."

You scoff, appalled at his answer. "You know you could have just lied so I wouldn't feel bad," You sniff, turning away from him. "What did I do?"

"You didn't do anything, I just..." he clears his throat, and it feels like you're back at square one when he couldn't hold a conversation with you for the life of him. "I just needed some time."

"Oh," you respond, taking his words a little differently. "I get it, Kook, everyone needs time."

"Noona, I don't think you do," he sighs, not looking at you. "I've actually been meaning to talk to you for a while...I just-" He pauses when you put a reassuring hand on his knee, you would've aimed for his shoulder but you're practically slumped in your chair. He pauses, staring at your hand for a moment before he threads his fingers with yours, soothingly rubbing patterns on the back of your palm. You take the time to look at his face then, the way his hair bounces over his eyes, you can't help but follow the slope of his nose and direct your attention to his lips. You must be blatantly staring because he notices when you begin to sit up straight. You can't help yourself when your drunken mind can only focus on how beautiful he looks in the moonlight. His eyes also soften looking at you and you swear you catch his gaze drop to your lips.

"Noona," he whispers, "I-"

You swear he's moving closer and you can't help but lean in until you're only inches apart. Your breath hitches. "Yeah?" you ask, peering up at him. He gulps at your sudden close proximity, his eyes falling down to your lips before he catches your gaze once again.

"Noona, I-" He begins again but he's cut off by your blaring ringtone which somehow is still Apple Bottom Jeans like it's been for the past eight years. You almost fall back trying to answer the call, cheeks flushed in embarrassment.

"H-Hoseok!" you shout. "Shit, I was gonna call you later, wait, Jungkook's here too let me put you on speaker!"

"Kook! Where've you been?" Hoseok's voice drifts over, a little static from the signal.

"Ah, just busy, hyung," Jungkook meekly replies.

"Don't work yourself too hard, kid," Hoseok chuckles, "Enjoy your youth!"

"Stop talking like you're an old man, it makes me feel old," you tease, "Jungkook's a good kid so the last thing he needs is you to influence him." You reach out to ruffle Jungkook's hair affectionately but he doesn't return your affection with a smile as you expected, instead, you see his jaw clench before he lets go of your hand.

"Oh, so you think I'm a bad influence?" Hoseok asks, trying to sound appalled. "When you sound drunk, ___, did you give the kid alcohol?"

"No," you hiccup. "Technically he gave it to my mom and I stole it from her!"

"Who's really the bad influence then, babe," Hoseok laughs.

You lean back in your chair, drunkenly laughing.

“But listen,” Hoseok continues once you've calmed down. “I’m calling because I heard someone can't get enough alcohol in her system.”

“So drinking my problems away is wrong when I do it?”

“Aw, you can drink as much as you want, babe,” Hoseok chuckles. “Namjoon and I are throwing a party at your request.”

“Wait,” you jolt up. “You got Namjoon to agree? Mr. I have a 9 to 5 job and too many Bonsai tree children to feed.”

“Well...it’s more of a hangout,” his voice changing in pitch at the last word. “But I’m sure I can pull some strings for you...I can do anything for you, babe,” Hoseok adds, still laughing at your Namjoon impression

“Mm, that sounds hot Jung,” you coolly respond, moving to take another swig of wine but you can't find the bottle. When you turn to ask Jungkook, you see him taking a long swig, finishing off the remaining wine.

“Jungkook that doesn’t come cheap, you know?” You berate, frowning at the lack of wine in the bottle.

“I know,” he huffs, leaning back on the dock chair. “I am the one who bought it."

"Will I be expecting to see you there, kid?" Hoseok's voice calls out. "Because it seems like you need a drink too."

"Yeah, sure," Jungkook responds. "See you later, hyung, I'm heading out."

"Wait, Jungkook," you call out with a playful lilt to your tone. "You're leaving after you buy a girl a drink? That's not how it goes!"

To your dismay, Jungkook doesn't turn back or even acknowledge you as he walks back to his side of the fence.

"Don't tease him, ___," you hear Hoseok's laugh from the static of your phone, making you flinch at your forgotten company.

"So it's okay when you do it but not when I do it?" You repeat your earlier words. "You know what they call that, Jung? Sexism."

"No, you dumbass," Hoseok groans. "I mean don't lead him on."

"Wait what?" You sputter. "How are you calling me a dumbass when you're the one saying something like that!"

"Come on, ___," Hoseok sighs. "The kid literally wears his heart on his sleeve, it's harder not to notice."

"Why do I feel too drunk for this but also in need of a drink after hearing this," you groan, leaning back. "Don't play tricks on a woman when she's drunk, Hoseok. You should know this."

"That's called alcoholism," Hoseok easily responds. "And ___, trust me, everyone can see it. But I guess you're just not ready to have that conversation."

You're at a loss for words after hearing that. What the fuck? You're brought out of your panicked thoughts when your phone vibrates in your hand, only then realizing that Hoseok had hung up on you.

"That damn Aquarius," you mumble to yourself as you scroll through your phone to check the aforementioned text message.

 Hoseok [23:18]: Everyone can see you too, but you aren't ready for that conversation either.

“___,” you hear your mother call. “Can you give this to Jungkook before he leaves?”

"He's here?" You peer over your mother's shoulder as she packs dinner for him inside some tupperware. "I haven't seen him around."

"Oh he mentioned coming by to see Yoongi, as usual, he should be in his room I suppose," she hands you the box before making her way out of the kitchen. "And remind Yoongi to eat something, he's been cooped up in his room all day!"

You begrudgingly make your way to Yoongi's bedroom, knowing well that he dislikes it when you barge in when he's working so you decide to do the decent thing, and barge in.

"What the fuck do you want now?" He seethes, whipping his head around to glare at you. You mindlessly peer around his room and huff. "Jungkook's not here?"

"No," Yoongi says, turning back to face the glowing screen of his computer once more. "He didn't show today."

"Huh," you hum. "Well, don't rot away in front of your computer screen, take a shower," you scrunch your nose in disgust. "And eat something so you don't die before you get to drunkenly make out with Hoseok."

You're quick to make your exit before you can hear Yoongi's retort. You end up busying yourself in your room for the next couple of hours, humming the tune you've heard come out of Yoongi's room for the past two days as you work, happy that you're actually getting something done for a change. It's when you lean back to stretch your stiff back that you realize that the sun is close to setting.

"So you showered," you grin at Yoongi when you enter the kitchen. Leaning down next to him, you steal some food off his plate. He passes you a glare before shoveling more into his mouth. "Jungkook still not here?" You ask, looking for the tupperware your mom had given you earlier.

It's Yoongi's turn to smirk now. "Why do you care so much?"

You snort at his words, "I'm just asking because mom told me to give him some dinner. Guess I'll have to go next door."

"Yeah the only dinner you'll be serving him is your —"

You've shut the door before Yoongi can finish that sentence, grateful that he doesn't get to see the growing blush on your cheeks.

You peer over to Jungkook's backyard, hoping to see him outside but it's empty. Huffing about the fact that you'll have to go to his house, the conversation you had with Hoseok still running in the back of your mind.

Shaking yourself out of it, you trudge your way across the fence but you once again find yourself nervous. Nervous that you're going to be seeing him.

You hadn't seen Jungkook much after the night you'd gotten drunk together. You'd think he was purposefully avoiding you, but you also know that he'd been helping his father with work for the past few days and had seen him through the window once or twice. Other than that, you'd had no contact with him.

You frown, standing outside the back entrance of the house, unsure of what you should do.

Confused about whether you should go to the front door and ring the doorbell or just go through the backdoor, leave the food in the kitchen and make a prompt exit. You snort, what the hell were you doing? This nervousness was so unlike you, you're always the one with the upper hand, you're an adult for god's sake, and you're far above this coy behavior. With a sudden burst of confidence, you push back your doubts and quickly find yourself inside the kitchen. Peering around, you don't spot Jungkook anywhere, not even his parents but that's not out of the ordinary, they're usually not home around this time anyway. You decide to leave the food out in the living room instead, where he'll spot it quicker. Deciding to send a quick text letting him know that you stopped by, you're about to leave until you're stopped in your tracks.

It's a dull thump that causes you to pause, making you peer in the direction of the noise in confusion. It's repetitive, coming from down the hall. Jungkook's probably working out, you think to yourself. His muscles didn't just pop out of nowhere after all. Deciding to walk further, you're met with a sliver of light falling on the floor, faintly lighting up the otherwise dark hallway.

 That's when you hear it.

 You're far too close when you realize — you would have never come if you had known (you tell yourself). Though you don't stop walking until you see the girl who's caught your attention. Her wails much clearer now that you're closer. "F-fuuuck, Jungkook," she cries, voice breaking at every syllable.

Jungkook is towering over her form, legs propped on his shoulder as he pushes into her. His occasional grunts taking away your focus, his voice reverberating through the walls and sending shivers down your spine. It takes all of your strength to keep standing at the scene, your mind screaming at you to make a move, to leave but your body stays rooted in place, taking in every detail of the scene in front of you. You're too shocked to take a breath as you see the way his muscles flex at every movement he makes, the way he so easily contorts the girl's body, drilling into her as she shrieks in pleasure. Soon enough, he has her flipped over on all fours with great ease, her head pushing down into the mattress. Your eyes barely rest on her until your eyes find their way back to him. A wrack of shivers goes down your spine once again when you notice the way begins plowing into her, with even more vigor than before. The way his jaw is clenched, letting out a grunt every time his cock is deeply lodged into her. Your eyes follow the sweat dripping down his forehead, down to his neck, following down until you see the ridges of his built form. When you look up to him again, it takes all your power not to fall down to your knees when you realize that he's looking right at you.

You gasp when he pushes her head further down into the mattress, her moans now muffled by the linen underneath. His grunts are the only thing you can hear now, sounding deep and guttural every time he pushes back in. His pace is faster, stronger and it feels like you can feel the way his cock pushes in. The way he's looking at you, it's like he's fucking you and not the girl who's currently blubbering underneath him.

Your thighs rub together at the sudden need for friction. Jungkook's eyes follow your movements, a smirk filling his features. "You like the way I'm fucking you?" He asks through clenched teeth, pushing into the hilt and pressing his pelvis into the back of her thighs.

"Mmf, yes," the girl grits out. "I love the way your cock is fucking me!"

Although she's the one answering him, you know the question was directed to you as his eyes haven't left you yet, even for a second. His hum of approval has your knees shaking and you swear your panties are sticking to you uncomfortably. You're shocked you haven't made a sound even though your breathing is labored, heart-rate accelerated. You must have gone completely insane to still be standing here when you know Jungkook is aware of your presence.

"Jungkook!" The girl cries, her legs shaking. "I'm gonna cum!"

"Come on, baby girl," Jungkook grunts, pushing into her even further. "Cum all over my cock."

It's like you're in a trance, following the way he moves his hands between her legs, making her cries get louder and shakier. At this point, its Jungkook holding the poor girl up as he drills into her. Her moans increase in pitch and it would honestly bother you but you're far too distracted looking at Jungkook that you don't even notice her cum. It's only when his own hips stutter and his head falls back that you get ahold of yourself.

As quietly as you can, with shaky knees, you make it out of his house and back to your room. Your heart hammering in your chest because you just saw Jungkook fuck the life out of some girl. Oh my god, you just saw Jungkook fuck the life out of some girl! Jungkook, your neighbour, the kid who idolizes your brother. Jungkook, who was always too shy to talk to you, who'd always get red-faced when you were around. Jungkook, who works out in his backyard. Jungkook, who sometimes holds your hand. Jungkook, who apparently can fuck the soul out of you. You shudder at that thought, your mind reeling from what you just witnessed, the wetness between your thighs still evident. You shake yourself away from wandering thoughts, you can't, you chastise yourself as you bury your face into your pillow. But the image of him doesn't stray from your mind and you feel like your body is working on overdrive, your nerves so sensitive that you can't help but shakily place a hand between your thighs.

"Yoongi's been complaining that you've been inside more than usual," Hoseok takes a seat next to you when you find yourself lounging around your house yet again.

"I've been busy," you quip, eyes not leaving the textbook in your lap.

"Come on!" Hoseok laughs, "Your lack of flirting is worrying, what's up?"

At your non-committal hum of acknowledgment, he yanks the textbook, prying it away from your grabby hands.

"If it takes me longer to graduate, it's going to be your fault, Hoseok," you groan, folding your arms across your chest after a feeble attempt to get your book back.

"___, why are you studying when you're on vacation," he raises an eyebrow. "More importantly, when I'm here?"

"Clearly, you've mistaken me for someone who gives a shit about you, Jung," you retort, "I've been using you to get to your sister this whole time."

Hoseok scoffs at your refusal to comply before bringing a backpack to his lap. That piques your interest as you raise your eyebrow expectantly.

"What's in there?"

"I was going to give this to you as a peace offering, but you're being a little bitch," Hoseok sniffs, taking out a bottle of vodka from the bag.

"I think you're the one pushing me towards alcoholism, Jung," you snort but pause when he takes out a carton of cranberry juice.

"Don't act like you're not the one who got us all booze with your fake ID in high school," he laughs, raising the bottle in his hand. "So let's commemorate and drink cranberry vodka like a bunch of freshmen."

You stare him down for a while before a smile slowly creeps up on your lips.

"God, I really need to stop using alcohol as a crutch," you grin before taking the bottle from his hand.

It's after you've drunk almost half the bottle between the two of you that Yoongi comes home, groaning as he takes off his shoes to announce his arrival.

"Get in here, you toad," you drunkenly giggle, almost sliding off your couch in between. "I have two surprises for you!"

Yoongi slowly makes his way into the living room, a scowl on his face at your obvious inebriated state.

"I'm here. Now give me a drink," he says, making you move so he can wedge himself between you and Hoseok.

"Surprise number one!" You say, handing him a haphazard mixture of vodka and cranberry juice. "And surprise number two!" You shove him lightly so he's even closer to Hoseok. You giggle as he nudges you with his elbow.

"Hoseok's helping me drink my problems away," you say, moving to the adjacent couch when Yoongi won't let you drape your legs across his.

"What problems, noona?" You hear from the doorway and immediately stiffen.

 There is none other than Jungkook, standing at the entrance, innocently smiling at you before he makes his way into the living room.

"Oh yeah, Jungkook's here too," Yoongi says, sipping on his drink and grimacing before shooting you a nasty glare for not putting in enough juice.

"I hope you guys don't mind," Jungkook says before sitting on the couch you're on, a little too close for comfort.

"What were you guys doing?" Hoseok asks, taking Jungkook's attention away from you.

"Yoongi hyung was treating me to dinner for finishing a song," Jungkook says, showcasing his teeth while smiling.

At that moment, you decide that Jungkook is the devil incarnate. He has the audacity to look like the sweet, innocent, helpful Jungkook you've known your whole life. But you know the truth, you know how he is anything but that. You can see through his facade easily, how he has everyone fooled.

He shifts in his spot, causing him to bump his thigh with yours and you immediately clamp your legs shut and move away from him, leaning as close to the corner of the sofa as you can get. You hear him huff but he maintains his distance. Even though there’s about a person’s gap between the two of you, you can still feel the heat radiating from his body.

"You know glaring at your empty cup won't put more alcohol in it," Yoongi says, finishing his own drink before moving to make himself another.

"Uh, yeah," you say, distracted still as you pour a hefty amount of vodka in your cup.

"Slow down, babe," Hoseok snorts at your antics. "What's got your panties in a twist."

"Please don't talk about my sister's panties when I'm here," Yoongi groans.

"He means don't talk about my panties when you can talk about his panties," you smirk, settling back down on the sofa.

"What if I want to talk about your panties, ___?" Comes Jungkook's whispered voice next to you, his breath hitting your neck and you almost choke on your drink, coughing loudly.

"Are you okay, noona?" Jugkook asks, loud enough for everyone to hear this time. "Here, drink some water."

You begrudgingly accept the offered cup and gulp it down so you don't have to look at his face and just recall the way he was looking at you the other night.

"Look at Jungkookie taking care of his noona!" Hoseok drunkenly giggles, slapping Yoongi's arm to get his attention. Hoseok's intentions are as clear as day and you're not amused. You feel even more on edge now, knowing that even Yoongi was in on it — if the smirk on his face was anything to go by.

You hear Jungkook laugh beside you and put an arm around your waist. You jolt up at the contact, feeling extremely sober suddenly.

"Uh...I'm going to the kitchen. Bye," you stammer and run towards your safe haven.

He's the devil, you can't believe you hadn't noticed it before.

"It really is all men," you mutter to yourself, pacing in the kitchen.

"I take it either you and Jungkook finally fucked or that you and Yoongi are fighting...which isn't new or exciting so please tell me you and Jungkook finally fucked," Hoseok says casually as he leans onto the kitchen island.

"No we did not...and will you keep your voice down?" You whisper-shout, peeking into the living room to make sure nobody heard him.

"Then why are you here talking to yourself like a madwoman, are you trying to prove that there are ghosts in this house again because that's not funny and I will scream."

"God, I wish my ghost boyfriend was still here...I miss Taemin," you groan, taking Hoseok's cup and downing it in one go. "He wouldn't torture me like this...why did he have to cross over?"

"You really need to get laid," Hoseok dryly comments. "Especially if you're pining over a clearly non-existent boyfriend."

"Oh my god, Hoseok!" You say, eyes wide as you quickly turn to face him. He flinches ready to get hit with the plastic cup in your hand but instead, you grab both of his shoulders and pull him closer.

"You're right! I do need to get laid...that explains everything," you let go of him and start pacing again. "But the question now is...who?"

"That's easy-"

"Don't you fucking dare, Jung Hoseok," you interrupt, pointing an accusatory finger at him. "Don't even try."

"I'm just stating the viable options here."

"I would take this from you any other day, but right now, I need you to help me set up a dick appointment."

"God, we're both not drunk enough for this conversation...and I'm pretty sure I'm seeing double right now," Hoseok slurs a little to accentuate his drunken state.

"It can't be you...because Yoongi would annihilate me," you begin to mutter your thoughts out loud, "Obviously Jungkook is a no go, that's just my sex-deprived brain malfunctioning."

"So you admit it!" Hoseok excitedly shouts, pointing at you with his eyes wide.

"No, shut up!" You gape, pausing in your tracks.

"Something happened, you don't do that weird saying your thoughts out loud thing unless something happened," Hoseok grins. "And don't think I didn't hear that little panties comment he made."

Fuck, it really be your own that betray you, and for you, it's your stupid inebriated self.

"Okay, if I tell you what happened," you begin, inching closer to him. "You have to promise not to laugh at me."

"You know I'm a whore for gossip," he smiles, leaning back to the counter.

"Okay..." You begin, nervously peering at the entrance to make sure that you're both alone. "I may have seen..." You purposefully keep your voice as low as a whisper, as a further precaution. "Jungkook...fucking a girl... and I can't stop thinking about it Hoseok, so you understand the severity of the situation."

He stares at you blankly as his drunken mind processes what you had said to him before, his eyes comically wide, and he barks out a loud laugh.

"Hoseok you promised you wouldn't laugh!" You sniff, looking at him with pleading eyes in hopes that he'll take pity on you.

 He doesn't.

 "Okay, you can't tell me something like that and not give me details... How much did you see? Did you see his dick? What's he like in bed?"

Hoseok's busy listing out detailing questions but you can't hear him anymore as your cheeks heat up at a significant pace when your mind starts to wander...

"Oh my god!" Hoseok balks at you. "You saw all of it didn't you!"

You don't respond, only gulp nervously when your mouth gets too dry.

"Shit, ___, not gonna lie... That's so hot." You see his eyes beginning to crinkle and scamper to shut him up before the man in question hears that you're currently talking about him getting his dick wet in front of you.

 Unfortunately, luck hasn't been on your side for the past couple of days.

"What's hot?" Jungkook says as he peeks his head in the entrance before making his way to where you are awkwardly holding onto Hoseok.

"Kim Taehyung!" You shout the name abruptly before you can even think of an excuse.

"Huh?" Jungkook tilts his head and you have to inhale deeply at the way his hair flops with his movement. Demon, you remind yourself.

"I invited Taehyung to the party this weekend, ___ thinks he's hot," Hoseok winks at you before looking back at Jungkook.

You look between the two of them before quickly stammering, "Uh, yeah! He's really hot... totally fuckable!"

Jungkook looks at you, his face blank before he hums. "I see," he says, before turning to Hoseok. "Yoongi hyung was calling you."

Hoseok passes you an apologetic look before grinning wildly and making his exit — effectively leaving you alone with Jungkook. Fucking Aquarius bastard.

 You awkwardly clear your throat when you notice Jungkook silently looking at you.

"So, Kim Taehyung?" He asks, slowly stepping closer to you.

"Yeah," you stutter, "...Kim Taehyung," backing away from him until the back of your legs hit the counter.

"What about him?" He smirks, eyeing you down and you have to peer up at him to maintain eye contact. Fuck when did he get so tall?

"You know..." you begin, "he's a good looking guy...what can a girl do?" You grimace at your words as they leave your lips but Jungkook doesn't react, just keeps his lazy smirk.

"Hmm… what can a girl do?" He grins, leaning down so he's face to face with you, his breath hitting your face. Your eyes widen before they fall to his lips and your mouth goes dry. You subconsciously lick your lips and his own eyes follow your movements before he moves towards the left to grab a spare mug that was sitting behind you on the counter.

He doesn't wait for your response before he's making his way out of the kitchen and back to the living room to Yoongi and Hoseok... and alcohol. God, you need more alcohol but you really can't make yourself sit in his presence anymore.

"Fuck Jungkook," you angrily mutter as you make your way back to your bedroom before groaning at the choice of words. You slam the door in the midst of your frustrations before launching yourself on the bed.

"I can't believe booze has failed me," you mumble into your pillow before falling into an alcohol-induced sleep.

"You can cancel your party," you say over the phone, in lieu of a greeting right as Hoseok picks up. "I'm quitting alcohol."

"I'm guessing you didn't hydrate last night," Hoseok responds, sounding much better than you.

"I couldn't and you know it!" You seethe, soothing your aching head after downing two pills of aspirin. "Anyway, how do you sound okay, I'm sure you drank way more than me."

"I may or may not have puked my guts out an hour after you left," Hoseok admits, sounding a little ashamed.

"It's what you deserve," you remark blandly, making your way out to the backyard where the warm sun welcomed you. You groan in appreciation of the warm dock chair as you get comfortable. It's only when you open your eyes again, you see Jungkook working out in his backyard once again.

"If there's a god," you mutter to yourself, "When will you let me catch a break?"

"What's up?" you hear Hoseok ask over some crackling, probably making himself breakfast.

"The bane of my existence this summer..." you whisper just in case Jungkook doesn't over-hear even though he's clearly out of earshot — but you can never be too cautious.

"Our little Jungkookie's working out isn't he," Hoseok snickers, "Why don't you just sit back and enjoy the show?"

You hum, "You know what, Hoseok?" you say thoughtfully. "Maybe you're right... maybe I can get some sort of sexual gratification by just staring at him... doing those pull-ups... and then I'll get it out of my system" You silently watch the way his muscles flex every time he does one, getting a full view of those godly pectoral muscles because he decided to forgo a shirt today.

"Clearly, it’s working," Hoseok snorts.

You groan loudly, "It's not fair Hoseok! When did he get the upper hand, how did I let this happen?"

"Come on, ___, you seriously thought Jungkook was gonna stay coy this whole time? The kid's got game, you'd know if you’d come home more often."

"Don't say that! Don't call him a kid when I saw what I saw!" You angrily whisper into the phone.

"Don't act like you didn't enjoy the show." You can practically hear the god-awful smirk accompanying Hoseok's tone.

"This is why men don't deserve rights," you mutter, still angrily staring at Jungkook finishing up his work-out. "Anyway," you sniff, "you owe me a favor."

"And what is that?" He chuckles.

"Call Taehyung to the party for me."

"Oh? So now you're coming to the party?" Hoseok asks. "I thought you swore off alcohol...well you lasted ten minutes, I'm proud of you."

"Just invite him, will you?"

 You’ve managed to successfully avoid Jungkook, occasionally seeing him around the house but your plan was foolproof: flee. But it’s the day of the party and your otherwise foolproof plan is going to fail, because he’ll be there, and you’ll be there, in the same space.

Hoseok [9:45]: I won’t let u in unless u have at least one bottle of booze with u.

Hoseok [9:57]: That was Namjoon but yeah, the rule still stands.

 “I thought this party was for me,” you mutter to yourself as you make your way up the stairs, pulling on your dress nervously after every couple of steps.

You pause when you reach the apartment, a dull throb of music cascading through the walls, staying still for a while before kicking the door once to announce your arrival.

A few seconds go by and you’re ready to kick again but the door swings open to a clearly drunk Namjoon, cradling a bonsai tree close to his chest.

“___!” He grins, pulling you into a tight hug but he misjudges and proceeds to stuff your face in his pit. You awkwardly stand in his grip, letting him hug it out because it’s been a while since you’ve seen him

“Thank god you shower regularly,” you grin at him when he lets you go. “I come bearing gifts,” you hold up the lone bottle in your hand. “So, please put my coat in Hoseok’s room for me.”

“Tequila...” Hoseok slithers his way in at the mention of alcohol. “Someone’s here to make regrets!”

“It’s silver so you better have lemons in your kitchen,” you push past him and are met with enough people to be considered a party and not the hang-out Namjoon had planned.

“So I take it your persuasion worked,” you look at Hoseok as you make your way into the kitchen.

“I told you I’d do anything for you, babe, do I ever disappoint?”

“Okay, get off your high horse,” you jab, rolling your eyes. “Alcohol please,” you cup your palms in front of your chest.

“___,” Hoseok rolls his eyes. “It’s like one foot away from you. Make your own drink.”

“I don’t have my research on me right now but I have proven that your drinks get me drunk faster,” you sniff. “So, alcohol please.”

 Once you’ve downed two shots of tequila and now nurse once of Hoseok’s special drinks, you happily stroll to the living room where you’re met with Yoongi and Namjoon, bonsai plant still in hand.

“What is he doing?” You ask Yoongi in lieu of a greeting as you wedge your way between the two of them on the sofa.

“I’m cradling my daughter,” Namjoon sniffs, gripping the plant closer to his chest. “She can’t fall asleep otherwise.”

You pass Yoongi a look who just shrugs. “I think you have more pressing matters at hand, ___,” he says cocking his head to the side. You follow his line of sight and curse under your breath.

 Lo and behold, Jungkook is already there, surrounded by a bunch of people you recognize as his friends, not like you could recognise anyone besides Park Jimin...and the girl you saw him fucking who is busy clinging onto his arm and laughing at something he just said.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you say taking a large gulp of your drink. “Anyway, is Taehyung here?”

“Oh god,” Yoongi groans. “Don’t tell me you got Namjoon to agree to a party just so you could schedule a booty call with Taehyung, you know you could just text him instead of orchestrating a giant ruse.”

“Hey, this ruse is for you and Hoseok to get down and dirty too, I’m doing you a service,” you sniff, downing the rest of your drink. At the rate you’re going, you’re pretty sure you’ll blackout but sneaking a glance at Jungkook again, makes you forgo your concerns and move to get yourself another drink.

“Long Island iced tea?” You hear and turn around, drink sloshing in your cup. “You haven’t changed,” Taehyung smiles, eyeing the drink in your hand.

“Kim Taehyung!” You smile, tipsy already, and move to hug him, burying your head in his neck. “Why did everyone go through a growth spurt and not tell me,” you sniff when you fall back onto the heels of your feet.

“I like towering over you though,” he easily says, taking ahold of your waist and pulling you towards him. “Come dance with me.”

You easily agree, letting him move you to the living room where a couple of people were dancing to the music. You’ve never been a good dancer, always the one with two left feet but get some alcohol in you and suddenly your body just knows. Sure, you can’t call what you’re doing dancing, moving more towards fucking with your clothes on, if the thigh Taehyung has wedged between your legs and the way he’s gliding you on it has anything to go by.

You thank alcohol for giving you the confidence that surges through your body when you feel a twitch against your own thigh, making you smirk. The two of you dance to the music for a couple more minutes until he bends down, lips touching the shell of your ear. “Meet me on the balcony in five, yeah?”

“I thought you’d never ask, Kim,” you pull away. “Let me go grab my coat.”

 You’re quick to whirl around, moving towards Hoseok’s room, giggling to yourself at the prospect of your plan coming to fruition. Maybe this will let you see clearly and not drool thinking about Jungkook anymore. Clearly, you just need to get a good dicking down and Jungkook will be Jungkook again. 

Thankfully Hoseok’s room is unlocked and empty, you peer around the dark in search of your coat.

A hoe never gets cold but she does need her jacket when she has to make a quick run for it, just in case.

You aren’t there for long when you hear the door open again.

“I thought you said to meet on the balcony,” you laugh, turning around but your laughter dies in your throat when you realise it’s not Taehyung standing behind you.

“Jungkook?” You stutter, “what are you doing here?”

“You know, ___,” Jungkook tongues the inside of his cheek as he stalks his way towards you. “Hoseok I kind of understood… but Kim Taehyung?”

“Wh-what are you talking about?” You stutter, all the alcohol running through your veins suddenly evaporating. 

“I’m tired of playing games, ___,” Jungkook responds, ignoring your question. “I don’t want to hear any excuses anymore.”

“What do you mean, Jungkook?” You shrink under his gaze. He looks so different right now like a whole different person.

“I mean,” Jungkook chuckles, stepping closer as you inch back, the back of your thighs hit Hoseok’s desk. “I’m going to fuck you now.”

“Jungkook!” You shriek, “Don’t be ridiculous, you don’t want to f-fuck me.”

Jungkook closes his eyes, takes in a deep breath and immediately bends down so his face is a mere inch away from your own. “Oh, you have no idea just how much I want you, ___,” Jungkook says, his eyes falling to your lips. “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted you. And I know you want me too.”

In a blink of an eye, he’s lifted you up and seated you on Hoseok’s desk.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you let out, eyes wide when you see the look in his eyes, the way his eyes roam your body with this innate hunger.

“Stop kidding yourself, ___. Don’t pretend like you didn’t see anything,” he says, leaning so close to you that he’s all you can see. Everything about him is so different now, it’s surprising that you just recently noticed the raw sexual appeal Jungkook exuded. You nervously lick your lips when you find his gaze drifting down once again, trailing your body with hunger you now recognize as the look he gave you when you found him fucking that girl a couple of days ago.

“It’s okay, noona,” he chuckles, the word sounding nothing but condescending coming out of his mouth this time. “I like being watched.”

"J-Jungook!" you gasp, shocked at his obscene words. He's so close to your vicinity that you're unable to think straight.

“And it looks like you like to watch, don’t you noona?” He teases, his hand gripping your waist to hold you into place.

“Tell me, noona,” he asks, licking his lips and you shudder when you see the wet sheen of saliva coat his lips. “Did you touch yourself that night? Did you get off to me fucking her?”

Without thinking, you find yourself nodding to his words, eyes wide, breathing hard and shallow. He groans, separating your legs to wedge himself between your thighs. He’s so close, pressing his body into yours, and you let him, gripping his shoulders to press him even closer to you.

“Do you even know what you do to me, ___?” He groans into your neck. He presses his hips into your stomach. “Do you feel what you’re doing to me?”

You whimper, feeling the thick shaft of his dick pressing into your skin. All too soon, the feeling is gone and he’s standing back looking at you with half-lidded eyes.

“Take off your clothes.”

You don’t even hesitate and slip your dress off, left only in a pair of lace panties. Jungkook groans at the sight, palming himself through his jeans. His eyes roaming your body, from the swell of your breasts down to the lacy material of your panties.

“Didn’t even wear a bra, you’re so naughty noona,” Jungkook smirks, shamelessly eyeing your breasts.

“I want to know what you did.”

“W-what?” You ask, peering up at him with confusion.

“I want to see how you touched yourself thinking about me.”

You shudder under his watchful gaze and you let out a shaky breath.

“Go on then.”

You slowly inch your hands down your body, sliding down your panties gently enough that they stick to the wetness of your core. You hear Jungkook curse under his breath at the sight.

“So wet, and I haven't even touched you,” he looks entranced, the way his eyes widen at the scene between your legs.

“You did this,” you mumble, swirling the wetness of your folds and spreading it across the expanse of your pussy. Biting your lips when your finger grazes your clit.

Jungkook moves to take a seat on the chair, getting a better view of your fingers working on yourself.

You ghost your fingers across your clit, breath shuddering every time the movement sends small a small wave of shock through your body. You should feel embarrassed, being watched so closely but the fact that Jungkook is here, watching you so intently just eggs you on. You circle your finger along your entrance as another gush of arousal flows through, glistening the tips of your fingers, and you gather the wetness, shoving it back in. A small moan leaves your lips when you curl a finger inside yourself.

"You're doing so well, noona," Jungkook whispers. His jeans are unbuttoned but he doesn't bother touching himself, too busy watching you. And you're in awe of him yourself, biting your lips as you slowly begin to grind onto your finger, slowly adding another digit. You shudder when you scissor them inside of yourself, your legs beginning to close into themselves but Jungkook pushes them apart, so he doesn't miss a single movement.

"Fuck, fuck! Jungkook," you gasp, "It feels so good!"

Your movements begin to get more erratic, faster as you start to lose yourself to the pleasure. Your thighs twitching when you press onto your clit. You sputter when you add another finger, slowing down your movements to get used to the pleasant feeling of feeling so full.

"J-Jungkook!" You moan out, your other hand reaching to grab ahold of the one that's grabbing your thigh, "I'm gonna-"

"Are you cumming already, ___?" He tilts his head, looking at you with a teasing smirk. "Did you enjoy the show that much?"

"Yes!" You grit out, biting your lips as you fuck yourself. "Wanna feel you so bad!"

You groan, hips lifting off the desk when you crook all three fingers inside of you, thumb rubbing against your clit. "Jungk- fuck, I'm cumming!" You cry out before your words taper off to strangled moans. You keep fucking yourself until you've ridden out the waves of your orgasm, panting by the time you come down from your high.

When you lazily open your eyes, you find Jungkook's eyes wide, staring between your legs.

"Fuck," he says before he peers up at you. "That was the hottest thing I've seen in my whole life." Before you can respond he's shoving his head between your legs and licking a long stripe up your slit before he latches onto your clit and begins to suck gently.

"Ah, Jungkook," you groan, head falling back and hitting the wall behind you. "It's too much Jungkook," you whimper, feeling oversensitive from your orgasm but he doesn't listen, eagerly lapping up your release like a man starved. He groans when his tongue probes at your hole, fucking it with shallow thrusts, sucking up the wetness. "Noona, you taste so good," he groans before diving back in. The oversensitivity has you sobbing, tears falling down your cheeks but you still find yourself pressing yourself against his tongue as hard as you can. The fact that it's Jungkook’s head between your legs has you tumbling towards a second orgasm at an embarrassingly fast pace. Without warning, the tight coil snaps once more and you're coming undone, grinding yourself onto his tongue, moaning out his name. This only spurs him further as he licks into you with even more vigor, lapping up whatever dribbles out of you like it's his only life source.

When the waves of pleasure settle down, you slump against the wall, utterly spent. Your thighs still twitching at the intensity of your orgasm.

"Fuck," Jungkook mutters, looking up at you, his breath hitched. You gasp when you notice his lips, cheeks, and chin dripping with your release. "You're so fucking hot," he mutters before moving to stand up. He strips himself of his shirt quickly, and your eyes widen once more over how toned his body is. You shamelessly ogle his body, eyes following the ridges of his muscles.

"When did you turn into such a muscle pig," you scoff when he flexes.

"Feels good when you cream yourself watching me work out in the backyard," Jungkook chuckles. You bristle at his words, flushing a deep crimson.

"You noticed?"

"Why do you think I put on such a show, noona?" He winks before he's standing close to you once again. "Now be a good girl, and suck me off."

You're quick to pull his jeans down, grateful that he had undone the button earlier, you're sure you would have fumbled with it the way your hands are shaking in anticipation.

The moment his cock is free from its confines, your eyes widen. It's a mouth-watering sight. His cock beautifully glistens as precum leaks out of the tip, sliding down the curved shaft and you lick your lips, following the trail with your eyes. Gingerly, you grab the shaft, spreading the wetness on the head and he hisses when your thumb digs into the slit. At his reaction you grow more bold, kissing a line on the side of his length, licking his skin more and more after each kiss. When you reach the head, you press another kiss on the tip before encasing it between your lips, swirling your tongue before you suckle on it lightly.

"F-fuck, ___!" Jungkook hisses. "Be a good girl and take it all in, okay?"

You easily comply, slowly sinking on his length, inch by inch you swallow his length as far as you can go before going back up to catch your breath. Once you get used to the length and the thick girth, you loosen your jaw and eagerly stuff him in your mouth, hollowing your cheeks as you take him in.

"Oh god, you're doing so well, baby," Jungkook grits, taking a hold of the hair that falls onto your face. His praise just makes you more eager and you go even further until your nose touches his pelvis. You stay in that position, nose hitting the base of his cock, and you inhale deeply, groaning when the heady scent invades your senses. Tears stream down your face as your throat constricts, jaw aching from the girth but feeling the weight of his cock on your tongue makes you moan. Jungkook's head falls back when he feels you moan around his cock, and when he finds you peering up at him with wide eyes, teary from the abuse of his dick, his cock twitches in your mouth.

"I'm gonna fuck your face now, can you take it?" He asks, pulling your face back by your hair and you nod eagerly.

"I didn't know you were such a cockslut, noona," Jungkook grins before he shoves his length down your throat. You immediately choke but he doesn't relent, shoving it down until you're pressed against him. You swallow wildly around his length, making him groan.

"Fuck, you're such a sight, noona,” he rasps, “With my cock stuffed down your throat."

He pulls out a little before thrusting back in, abusing your throat and you enjoy every minute of it. You gag every time he has you pressed against him, your eyes trained on the way his muscles go rigid.

"Look at you, getting your throat fucked like a whore," Jungkook says, enthralled by the way you swallow around his cock. "You're gonna have me cum before I've even fucked your pussy."

You hum, hips beginning to grind on the desk at the prospect of Jungkook fucking you.

Jungkook pushes his entire length into your mouth once more, letting it sit there as you sputter, the sides of your mouth dribbling with a mixture of your spit and his precum, before he pulls you off completely, his hand replacing your mouth as he slowly fists his cock.

You're breathing hard, gasping to catch your breath but your eyes don't leave how he's slowly working his shaft, hissing when squeezes at the base. You eye the way his abdominal muscles clench every time he thrusts into his hand.

"Can I-" You begin but stop, a surge of shyness falling over you and you avert your eyes.

"Hmm? What was that?" Jungkook asks, bending down so he's in your field of vision.

"I...I've been fantasizing," you explain, turning towards him again, slowly lifting your hand to have it trail down his chest. "About riding your abs... can I?" You ask, peering at him with your eyes wide.

"And you ask me why I work out so much when you have such a muscle kink, noona," Jungkook teases but moves to make you stand on your feet. You wobble on your feet a little but catch your balance quickly when Jungkook takes your seat on the desk, leaning back against the wall.

You quickly scamper to straddle him, his face so close to yours. Without thinking, you close the distance between the two of you and catch his lips with your own. He moans into your mouth, grabbing ahold of your waist to push you onto him, tilting your head to lick into your mouth. You start slowly, experimentally rubbing your abused pussy on the hot skin of his abdomen. You moan loudly when your clit rubs against the flexed ridges of his muscles.

"Mmm, as much as I love the sounds coming out of your mouth, ___, you have to be quiet," Jungkook says, kissing down your neck. "Unless you want the whole party to hear what you're doing."

You nod eagerly, biting your lips to muffle the sounds of your moans but the idea that anyone outside could figure out what the two of you doing sends a jolt of excitement down your spine and only make you move faster against him.

"You're so dirty noona," Jungkook bites your neck, making you whimper. "You want everyone to hear you, right, you want them to watch me fuck you."

You shiver when he slides a hand down your back and whine when he makes you sit up. At your dejected expression he chuckles, "Noona, do you want me to stuff you full of my cock or not?"

At his words, you move at lightning speed, standing on your shaky legs in anticipation. He's quick to stand up, moving behind you. You watch him sift through his jeans until he brings out a condom but you shake your head. "I-I'm on the pill," you clarify. "Want to feel you inside me."

“Fuck,” He groans, fisting his cock, "I can't believe how perfect you are, ___."

He moves behind you again, grabbing you until he's had you bent over the desk. "Now, you have to be a good girl and keep quiet, okay?" He says, smoothing a hand on your back and you eagerly nod, spreading your legs so he can stand between them. He drags his cock over your entrance, slowly sliding it down without adding any pressure so it slips down your entrance and nudges your sensitive clit. You yelp as streams of pleasure zap down your legs.

"I thought I told you to be quiet, noona," Jungkook chastises, "I bet you want Taehyung to walk in and see, don't you? Or is it Hoseok hyung, want him to see me fucking you in his room?"

You moan loudly at his words, eyes falling towards the door, where anyone could walk in an see the state you're in.

"Or should I stuff your panties in your mouth if you can't listen."

Unable to answer, you let out a breathy moan when his cock slides down your slit again, biting your lips to hold it back but ultimately fail.

"Guess, I have no choice," Jungkook says before stuffing the black lace into your mouth.

"Can you taste yourself, ___?" He asks, nudging your entrance with the head of his dick and you let out a muffled moan, nodding when your flavor hits your tongue.

"Do you taste how sweet you are, noona?" He pushes the head in and you groan, your walls clenching down, making Jungkook hiss.

"Fuck you're so tight, noona or is my cock just too big for your tiny pussy," Jungkook grits out, pushing in until half of his dick is lodged inside of you. Your legs are shaking at this point, walls convulsing at the intrusion but it feels so good to have a cock — Jungkook's cock —  inside of you. There's no guilt to the realization like you had been expecting, it feels nothing but right, like you were meant to have him filling you to the hilt. The sudden realization has you pushing back on his length, silently asking him to stuff you full, and he easily complies, pushing in until his length seated completely inside of you. Both of you still for a moment, you're left a whimpering mess, feeling so utterly full that you could just snap in half. Jungkook is no better, he shudders when he feels you convulse around him, cock twitching inside of you.

"F-fuck," he grits out, voice wavering. "You don't know how long I've wanted this for," he groans, leaning against you until his body is molded perfectly above yours.

You peer up at him and are shocked to see how fucked out he is, sweat beads his forehead, slowly sliding down the side of his face as he bites his lips raw.

"Noona," he groans, burying his face into the crook of your neck. "I can't believe I'm inside of you."

You shudder when he presses himself even further inside of you, and you feel like you might explode when he hasn't even started moving yet. You clench down on his length once more that has him break out of his thoughts and he pulls out before he's slamming into you again. You shriek into the lace at the brute force of the pace Jungkook's fucking into you. He's relentless with his thrusts, his thick cock filling you to the hilt before he's pulling out again. It's obscene, the way he's grunting and the way the slap of skin against skin reverberates through the room. You're lucky that the music is loud enough that nobody can be privy to what's going on inside.

You moan and drool against the fabric, hands desperately finding purchase onto the desk. You feel like the whole table might break apart against Jungkook's monstrous pace. His hold on your hips is so strong that you're sure he's leaving bruises on your skin, and that only makes you groan in delight at the prospect of having his marks branded on your skin.

"I won't last long," he grits out, voice deep and tinged with a guttural groan. You nod against the wood, eyes watering, letting him know that you're in the same state. Even if you didn't have your mouth stuffed full, you're sure you wouldn't be able to make a coherent word leave your lips. It's like every cell in your body is on fire, igniting every time Jungkook furiously fucks into you. Even after having this on your mind all summer, nothing could have prepared you for the sheer pleasure of actually feeling his cock inside of you, the way pushes into you. Without even having the realization of your impending release, the coil snaps and you're hurtling headfirst towards the strongest orgasm you've ever had in your life. Every muscle in your body goes rigid as you clench down onto his length with all the strength you have, stars glittering behind your eyelids as your walls flutter and convulse relentlessly around his cock. The feeling has Jungkook moaning, his forehead resting on your neck before spurts of hot cum begin to fill you up even more. He fucks you with even more vigor until you've milked out everything from him. He fucks his cum back into you one last time before he stops in his stuttering pace and collapses on top of you.

The two of you stay like that for a while, catching your breath. His body encases you in a sweltering heat, crushing you but you relish in the feeling of the sticky heat between the two of you. He presses chaste kisses on the base of your neck, his breath still heavy. It's silent but you feel complete, like a part of you had been missing and you just found it. You feel perfect.

Before he moves to get off you, he takes the lace out of your mouth and meets your lips in a deep kiss. Helping you stand up, his eyes follow the way his cum dribbles out of your pussy before he's quickly stuffing it back inside.

"Keep that in there, okay?" He says before he's kissing you again.

 Both of you change quickly and in silence, you tie your hair back haphazardly, hoping you can play it off as being far too drunk to care about your appearance.

When you look back at Jungkook, you notice him shoving the ruined pair of panties in his back pocket. Raising an eyebrow in question, he chuckles. "It's my souvenir for waiting this long to get to fuck you."

You scoff, looking back at your reflection to look at your ensemble once more before you're heading towards the door. Jungkook stays back so you can make your exit first. The music is still loud, even though the crowd has thinned out since you were last out there. You move towards the kitchen and grab yourself whatever cup you see to make your lie more believable. Peering out into the living room, you don't spot Hoseok or Yoongi anywhere, though you do notice a passed out Namjoon, bonsai tree still clutched tightly against his chest.

You don't move from your spot, even when you see Jungkook emerge from Hoseok's room, and he doesn't come to you either, opting to move back to his group of friends where the girl he was with eagerly clings onto him again.

You frown, even though it hadn't bothered you before, seeing her with him leaves a heavy feeling in your chest. You watch on as he easily laughs and blends into the crowd once more until you can't ignore the feeling anymore. Shaking your head, you're quick to move towards the entrance, suddenly feeling the telltale signs of an oncoming headache.

The following day, least to say, goes by seemingly uneventfully. Unless you count the fact that you catch Yoongi and Hoseok sitting in the kitchen when you make your way down the stairs. He’s quick to greet you with a playful wiggle of his eyebrows.

“What?” You squint, taking a seat next to him on the kitchen island.

“So you and Jeon finally get to do the nasty or what?”

“W-what?” You blanch at his words, choking at the piece of toast you'd stolen from his plate.

“Come on, don’t even try to hide it, I saw him go into my room after you, gotta admit, I really thought you'd end up with Taehyung last night but I guess I was wrong,” Hoseok shrugs, taking the stolen piece of toast back from you.

“If you thought she’d end up with Taehyung, why'd you bet on Jeon?” Yoongi grumbles, shoving a couple of bills in Hoseok’s open palm.

“Wait!” You snap, “you guys actually bet on it?”

Hoseok completely ignores your dramatic exclamation and turns to Yoongi. “Call it my own personal spidey sense, I can sense when people fuck…like I sensed that you were getting fucked yesterday.”

Yoongi’s quick to smack Hoseok across the back of his head.

“So… my grand plan worked out,” you pass a smirk to Hoseok, and hold out your palm.

“Wait you guys bet on me?” Yoongi looks between the two of you, eyes wide.

“Hey, gotta make a living and stay jobless at the same time somehow,” you shrug, counting the bills in your hand.

“Don’t think I haven’t forgotten about you and Jungkook,” Hoseok points his fork towards you. “You still have to tell me the gruesome details.”

“I’m not telling you any details, that ship sailed when you started bumping uglies with my brother.”

“Hey, I’m willing to spill, you’re the one who was so against it,” Hoseok shrugs, “Plus, I need to know if I have to burn my sheets or not.”

You pause, giving him the side-eye before you smirk. “Not your sheets… but you may want to get yourself a new desk.”

The next few days followed by slowly. You find yourself finishing off all your assignments with little to no distractions — unless you call watching the entirety of Instant Hotel a distraction. By the third day, you’re back to your normal routine and you decide that the whole thing with Jungkook was the cause of your lack of sexual gratification, and you’re totally over it. It kind of sucks that you had to literally fuck it out of your system to stop lusting over your dongsaeng, but it happened and there’s nothing you can change about it. That’s what you decide —  that you were completely okay.

Except that, you’re not. On the fifth day, you have a meltdown over the whole ordeal, and even Hoseok can’t make your anxieties go away. You avoid the backyard at all costs and don’t even turn to steal any more alcohol from your mother’s stash because, just as you blame your lack of a sex life that landed you in this situation, you also blame alcohol. This time, though, you’ve truly quit alcohol.

It’s on the seventh day that you actually see Jungkook, he doesn’t see you but that’s mostly because you duck out of sight before he gets the chance. It’s not like he was on his way to seek you out either, you see him jogging towards his dad’s truck, probably out on his way to run some errands. At least he hasn’t been hanging around your house these days, which makes the whole thing less awkward. Now, all you have to do is go through two more months just like this and you’ll be back in college, far, far away from here.

A week. It’s been a week and approximately three hours since you had gotten a glance at Jungkook. With your more recent research, you declare that you are indeed not okay. And to your luck, you have no effective distractions — Yoongi —  to your disposal. You’re home alone, having exhausted your last remaining brain cells by watching reality tv for seven hours straight. You’re casually perusing through Netflix once more because one more episode couldn’t hurt, when the doorbell rings.

You huff, wondering if you’d ordered a pizza and had forgotten about it, which seems quite impossible, but still, you don’t cancel it out completely. But what you find after opening the door is even more shocking than a forgotten pizza delivery. None other than Jeon Jungkook stands outside your front door, sheepishly smiling at you.

“Yoongi’s not home,” you say, immediately grimacing at your harsh tone, not expecting it to hold that much malice.

Jungkook’s eyes dart to the side before he nods, “Uh, yeah I know,” he clears his throat before looking back at you. “I came here to see you.”

“Okay...” you say, moving to the side so he can walk in. You make your way into the living room without waiting for him, trying really hard to appear casual but end up standing in the middle of the room with your arms crossed. “Why’d you ring the bell?” You ask once he’s inside, “And why’d you come through the front door?”

He rubs the back of his neck nervously, “I-it’s because I wanted to do things properly,” he shifts on his feet, “And I don’t think barging into the room will do us any good.”

It’s not difficult to understand what he’s referring to, making you frown at his choice of words. “Listen, if this is about that night, it’s all good okay? You don’t need to worry about that, we were drunk and these things can happen to anyone so you don’t need to bother yourself over something like that. I don’t expect you to do anything about it, I’m a big girl and I can take it,” you ramble on even though your mind is screaming at you to shut up!

“It’s not about that!” Jungkook blurts out, “Uh, I mean, is it technically about that but not what you think,” he reassures right after.

The two of you stare at each other in awkward silence for a few seconds before he breaks. “Listen, ___,” he begins, sighing. “I just wanted to apologise—”

“Like I said Jungkook, you don’t need to,” you interrupt him.

“Will you let me finish, ___?” Jungkook asks, smiling at you and the look alone has you shutting up. “As I was saying, I’m sorry for how I left things last time. I should have been more clear about my feelings.” The more he talks, the more he flushes. It’s so strange seeing Jungkook stammer around you now as if he didn’t stuff your own panties in your mouth a week ago to get you to shut up. But you can’t complain, you’ve always loved to watch him squirm.

“What I mean to say is, noona... I meant what I said that night,” he continues, “About how long I’ve waited to-” He clears his throat awkwardly. “How long I’ve waited for you.”

You still blankly stare at him, not sure where this is going at all. Was he trying to have another round? He’s probably figured out that no one was home, and honestly speaking you wouldn’t be opposed to it either…

“I like you, ___,” he blurts out. “I’ve always liked you but I never thought you even saw me as a... man… until recently. And I know we, uh, have done it, but I still wanted to formally tell you.”

A smile starts lighting up your face as he continues to stutter and stammer out a confession.

“Jeon Jungkook!” You exclaim, “Are you… asking me out?” You ask, fully grinning at him now, even though you know the answer already.

He’s bashful under your gaze, moving to rub at his red ears, “Um, yeah I am,” he says before handing you a paper bag you hadn’t noticed before. “It’s the end of the month, after all, so I guessed might as well shoot my shot.”

You take the bag, peering at it curiously until you take out what’s inside: a bottle of Pinot Noir.

[be-ready-when-i-say-go]

Gonna Be Home Soon

Time’s passed and things don’t feel better. It’s like settling, accepting, the new normal. But sometimes exceptions can be made to the rules. 

My fingers slipped. Part 2 of Away for a Moment. 

Enjoy my masterlist

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________________________________

When Calum’s phone rings at 8:05 am, he doesn’t waste a second to answer it. He’s been anticipating this call ever since the two of you talked last night and you mentioned errands you needed to run in the morning. And there you are, grinning into the camera, the morning sun bright behind you.

“Morning,” you chirp.

“Morning, love,” he returns, falling back into the mass of pillows on his bed. “Waiting for the bus?”

“Nah, the store’s not too far and I’m already half way there.”

He nods, a hum falling over his lips. Your breathing is a little heavy. He can hear the pants as you walk. There’s a bit of a hill on the way there, if his memory serves him correctly. “Sleep okay?”

You shrug, ducking under a tree to take a short cut up to the concrete steps that lead you into the tiny shopping center. “Slept alright. Woke up in the night sweating my ass off.”

“What about your fan?”

“It was on. I had just cocooned myself and got to hot that’s all. What about you? How’d you sleep?”

Calum starts to answer but like his body knows, a yawn interrupts him. “ ‘Cuse me. Slept okay. Still trying to wake up even though I’ve been up for a while.”

“I’m sorry, love. I can let you go. You need rest.”

“No, no, I’m okay.” He doesn’t it say it but you know just by looking at him that even if he were dead tired he’d answer your call. And you know it’s because of the two incidents you told him about while just out. Approached once by men who was too chatty for your comfort—asking too many questions about you personally. And then someone asked for directions which wouldn’t have been weird but they never got off at the stop that you gave them directions for. So when you got off at your stop in front of a gas station you marched right into it and lingered until you were sure the bus had passed.

You don’t regret telling Calum about these strange encounters. And Calum knew you could defend yourself but he didn’t want you to have too. He didn’t like that you had to be on alert and that you were always looking over your shoulder. He knew you would and did still do it in LA with him. He knew all the times you had gone out without before. But he had always been close by. And now he’s not. He’s miles away, across state lines and though he’s not too far it’s still far enough for him to worry more than he did before.

You walk into the Wal-Mart and grab a basket, cradling your phone in one hand. “Wow, it’s kinda quiet in here.”

Calum remembers previous how packed the place was when he helped you move and how you recounted going on a Saturday and immediately regretting it.

“Better hurry,” he teases, looking to Duke who’s now waiting at the edge of the bed. His ears are perked up. Calum picks him up and sets him on his chest.

Your screen when you glance back down is full of Duke’s face and his fur hiding away Calum. But that’s perfectly fine by you. “My boy! Is pops treating you well?” 

Duke barks in response to the question. His snout pressing into the screen almost as if that will bring you closer to him. You don’t even realize tears are welling until one falls and hits your screen. “Love you Duke.”

He barks again at the sound of your voice, leaping off Calum to unearth your sweatshirt he buried into the sheets.

“Oh Duke gets tears but I don’t? I see how it is.”

You quickly wipe at your cheeks. “Shut up. I didn’t realize how much I missed him until just then. I know I miss you.”

“Hey, no, I’m just teasing. Is too soon for a visit?” 

Calum knows it’s only just over a month. Maybe a full month and a half since the last time he visited. He’s not really sure. All he knows that the days are long. All the clothes you’ve left behind have lost all your scent. Big’s too big and most nights Calum falls asleep on the couch. You text him though well before he falls asleep to make it to the bedroom. You beg him really, knowing that it’s better to have a healthy sleeping schedule. Sometimes he makes it, even sends a selfie from underneath the covers, pouting of course. 

In the studio, things feel normal. He can focus on the tasks at hands. And he still can crack jokes. The guys know though. They can all tell that Calum lingers around his phone more so than usual. He takes every call, even the ones that he’d normally ignore because he can tell they’re probably spam. But he takes them know because he can’t be sure it’s not you. Sometimes, he wishes it was you, instead of some bullshit car insurance scam. 

The other guys can tell Calum’s a little down in the dumps because when they ask him if he wants to join for dinner, he declines. And it’s not like he couldn’t shoot you a text saying that he’ll have to push back the FaceTime until later, or just hold off until tomorrow. It’s not like you’d flip your shit. But instead, he holds to those FaceTime dates. He holds for the times even if he’s writing, he can glance to his phone and see you riding the bus or walking into your classes. 

It’s the new normal and though Calum misses the way it used to be. It’s his new normal that keeps him mostly sane. It’s this new normal that helps Calum orient his days. Monday you text early in the morning to head into your office and you message at every stop too. And then around 2 he can call, after you’re done with one stint of classes. On Tuesdays, you morning starts early but he can call during your morning commute. Wednesdays he knows that it’ll mostly be a text day, you have meetings all in the morning and then classes well into the afternoon. Thursday start to lighten up and you can FaceTime most the day of the day minus the tutoring hours you’re putting in. And Fridays, Fridays are Calum’s solace. He can wake early, knowing you’re up early too, and he can be there for just about everything. It’s your reading day too. So you two talk mostly in the morning while you run errands. 

Like today, as you pull out your grocery list, Calum watches you smile at the folks passing you by. “What’s on the list today, love?”

“Batteries. Restock on the veggies and figure out what’s for dinner for the next couple of days. I found these two recipes that I want to try. Just can’t decide on which one.”

“What are they?”

“One’s a chili recipe. Other one is a one pot spaghetti recipe.”

“I vote chili. You can freeze part of the portion for next week.”

You nod, with a hum. “Smart call. Knew I kept you around for a reason.”

Calum laughs, scooping Duke back up into his arms. “Not my devilishly handsome good looks.”

“You’re hot, don’t get my wrong. But it’s what? Two years in now? Good looks don’t make a relationship. But they do help.”

“I see, loving me for my brains. I can’t say I’m upset with that.” The aisle aren’t clear as you walk down. But you pause. Calum can’t really see where, thinks it might be the clothes or close to it. You hold up a cartoon sports bra, wiggling your eyebrows. Calum whistles. “Hot.”

You snort. “I’ll pair it with my school sweatpants.”

“Doubly hot,” Calum snickers.

 As you wonder about, you show small things to Calum, laughing together as you goof about in Wal-Mart. You show Calum a T-shirt that says ‘I can’t people today’ stating that you need that saying tattooed to your forehead. Even though you’ve gotten into a routine it’s still hard some days just to deal with any other human being. Calum’s always enjoyed watching you, even if it’s just you reading the ingredients lists on the back of box. And you do it out of habit now, taking the time to make sure nothing has changed in the ingredients list. Depending on what it is, sometimes there’s a recipe. 

“How many bags of mango slices do you go through in a week?” Calum asks, watching the package fall into your cart. 

You duck your head, speeding down the aisle even though you’re reaching back for another bag. “We do not talk about that.”

“You’re going to have a whole mango budget!”

“At least it’s better than you and your Oreos,” you sass back, waiting for the elderly couple to cross in front of you. “How many packs are you up to in a week?”

“Two,” he states through a mumbles. “But I’m cutting back!”

The giggles dissipate and you warn Calum that you’ll have to put him in your back pocket while you check out. It’s not a bad haul and you’re glad for it. You’re trying to keep the weekly grocery spending low, since the rent’s a little high at your place. With all your groceries bagged, you find your reusable bag and then head for the bus stop. Though it’ll take it a little far out of the way, it beats hauling your groceries up two hills and reduces it to one. 

The morning’s growing warmer and Calum can see the beads of sweat as you walk down to the stop. He knows he ought to get up too. He should think about getting grocery, and washing the bedsheets, and scrub the bathroom. He doesn’t want to. He wants to wrap his arms around you and bury his nose in your neck and inhale the smell of your shampoo and body wash. 

Once you’re safe into your apartment grocery sitting on the counter, you say your goodbyes. It’s in Calum’s eyes. The way the tears don’t fully form but they do glaze over his eyes and you know. It’s going to be a hard day. And if it weren’t for the 200 pages you had to read between your classes, you would’ve stayed longer on the call. You almost ask if he wants to stay on as you read. It almost crosses your lips. 

But Calum sighs. “Guess I gotta let you go, but we’ll talk throughout the day?”

You don’t know if he’s got a busy day or not. It’s Friday and while it’s your easy day, Calum might be buried in some work. So you nod. “Of course.”

The groceries are easy to put up. You settle down for the first half the reading, pen and highlighter at the ready. Calum drops the phone into the sheets and turns onto his stomach, face buried in the pillows. The day will be long if he stays like this. But he can afford himself a little misery, a little grace so that he can sigh about how much he misses you but eventually get his own ass into gear. 

Between the grocery, scrubbing the bathroom, three loads of laundry, Calum doesn’t even realize more than half the day is gone and there’s nothing much else to do. But that ache of saying goodbye to you finally comes back and he took today off from the studio. Which might’ve been a mistake. But it’s too late now, so Calum walks into his own office and picks up his acoustic guitar. 

He was only going to send it to you. But he didn’t want to inundate you with the same old sad sentiments. And sure, this one was a little different, him strumming as his voice is just above a whisper, to let himself finally release the yearning. But still, he didn’t want to bother you. The texts were less consistent than normal but he also understood when you had reading days you were focused on nothing else but the readings. 

Your phone buzzes an alert to let you know about an email. You check it, not sure if it was a student making an appointment for tutoring, but it’s just from the school’s bookstore. “Fucking, now I have anxiety about my email,” you chuckle to yourself. 

Then your fingers wonder, you exit the mail app and tap onto instagram. Right in the bubbles up top is Calum’s icon. You tap onto it and see, or hardly see the  lamps illuminating him. And it’s dark back at home much like it is where you are. His voice is soft as he croons, his cry out for a return. The semester is halfway done and you know even though you’re going to be soon buried in work for midterms, though mostly for the tutoring and teaching and less of midterms for you, you text Calum. 

Gonna be home soon. Just for the weekend. I’ll book a train ticket.

Almost immediately after sending the text, your phone buzzes with a phone call from Calum. “I can come to you,” he rushes out. 

“Well, it’s not home.”

“Home’s not a building, not a place,” Calum whispers. “And I know some people are going to say it’s not smart to find home in other people. But it’s too late for me. You make me feel at home.”

“Literally, I’m crying into my books,” you return, wiping your cheeks. 

“What time are you free on Thursdays? After 6 is good, right?”

You nod, “Yeah, after 6 I’m free.”

“I’ll see you then. We can try that Indian place you pass on the way to class. And I’ll be there to remind you to drink water when you’re grading.”

A soft exhalation of laughter escapes you. “I definitely need that. See you Thursday.”

[azalia]

the story so far : task004

life brings tears, smiles, and memories. the tears dry, the smiles fade, but the memories last forever. ― malik faisal

content warnings: death mention, pregnancy, mental breakdown mention

willow: the vampire has spent the past couple of months stockpiling her resources in various offshore accounts as well as within her home. her manor was already forfeited with with a steel fence surrounding the perimeter and wards bought from various witches across the continent, but the vampire had a secondary fence made of iron installed along cameras. recently she’s taken an interest in artifacts that are rumored to be linked demons and angels. these artifacts have been acquired through trade, sell, and some are stolen from their original owners. she’s currently keeping them in her basement until she can research each piece. her home has also been open to those who work for her, but they only have access to certain areas of the manor

micah: the wolf has spent the past couple of months reinforcing his cabin along with helping his fellow neighbors prepare for the worst since they live a little out of town. a couple of his neighbors have moved in town for their safety or left completely. also during this time the elderly neighbors he took care of passed away. he held their funeral as they had no living relatives in town. other than that he’s been really involved in pack matters and has also been seen visiting hubbard apothecary almost everyday

rhea: the succubi is now 5 months pregnant and has been seeing her doctor regularly for check ups. she’s now aware she’s having twins. one boy and one girl. she’s been trying her best to hide her pregnancy through selective outfits and over-sized clothing, but with her petite build it’s been getting harder especially when running errands around town. she's told everyone in her life including the austere household of her pregnancy and her due date.  she’s also noticed the need to feed has slightly increased over the months, but has ignored it and focused on eating right

claire: the witch has been researching and studying her family history and magic. through the school and her parents she’s been able to put all the pieces together. through her familial research and practice she’s discovered she has an infinity for lightening magic and has been working to hone it. so far she’s been known around campus for accidentally shocking people or short-circuit plugs. she’s gotten better in other areas of magic like warding and simple spells more so than her infinity

simon: the fae has been sticking close to his family and julian these past couple of months. he can often be seen together with one or more of the family members or running an errand. or on the occasion he can been seen with angie on a walk or stopping by to check in on her.  the air has been a bit different around him. the once shy and awkward man is still that, but as of late there’s also been an air of determination and duty that makes the fae seem like a different man. as for gordo’s sweet factory it’s still open, but on reduced hours. the sweet shop opens a hour later and closes an hour earlier. simon didn’t want to completely close, but couldn’t manage the shop and his other responsibilities 

selene: the wolf has not been taking this “possible end of the world” that well. on the outside she appears fine. she still goes to family functions, plays her part in the pack, and goes to work without complaint. but at home she spends most of her time in her room and barely leaves it even for food

orion: the siren has been pretty quiet these past few months and quite frankly bored out of his mind. he had been using his job in city hall to sneak information to azrael’s side, but there hasn’t been much to report. the city has gotten stricter about security and his usual gossips and over hearings have stopped. the siren considered leaving town especially with the chaos outside. what he would give to be a part of that. but was told to stay put for the next phase in the plan

ravi: the nephilim has been very busy these past couple of months. the demand for healing and overall health has skyrocketed. a couple of medical staff left in the beginning to return to their hometowns or seek shelter out of salem and the hospital has not had time to seek replacements. ravi has been covering orthopedic both in adults and children as well as scheduling appointments to see specialists. his day consists of waking up, going to work, and then sleep. most of his meals are on the fly and consist of a cold sandwich or cereal 

lilith: the crown's focus has been primarily outside salem. she’s been behind the planned attacks on the other cities and safe havens all while grading student’s papers

kamilah: the shifter had been so focused on work that she had a mental breakdown from burnout in mid october. she took a month off and a half off to focus on herself and prioritize what she wanted to do moving forward. during that time she got back into her old hobbies and starting seeing someone. now she’s been taking less patients and been offering more group options to cover the need

gabriel: the archangel has been in salem and waiting for azrael’s final strike. she can often be seen walking along the beach or on the docks