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torchstelechos · 1 month

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just saw you saying you want to talk about The Characters (isat) what are some thoughts you got bip bap boppin around in the noggin about the Them

Ooooooooohhhh Anon,,,, Ooooooh, You have unlocked deep thoughts and long monologues.... have this piece of bullshit that I spat out in excitement

Isabeau:

Ah yes, dear Isabeau, my most beloathed <3 (self recognition in other /derogatory). He’s one of the characters I’ve written the most meta for that's actually about his character in the game. I love him and hate him in equal measures but that's not what I want to talk about today! I want to discuss his morbid humor and fascination, I suppose. Also his rather interesting character type and how that's displayed in the game, specifically through his morbid thoughts and discussion choices.

In the game we see plenty of times that Isabeau uses morbid word choices (killed them so that I could live friendquest quote) and brings up morbid discussion topics (what do we do if you die? What do we do if Bonnie dies?) that the others find disquieting. He also laughs at Siffrin’s time traveler joke, finds scary Siffrin attractive, and finds being paid attention too enough that they can harm you attractive. This brings me to my main point, which is that Isabeau is the cold scientist archetype character that tries to be the himbo fighter character. Of course we know that hes trying to hide himself behind the himbo character type, but the fact that he's analytic to a fault, morbid in almost every way, finds scary things attractive, and calls Changing killing his past self… this man is very much a scientist that was about to turn evil but decided friendship was the answer whose character was subverted into himbo fighter because those who are dumb are more liked than those who know things. It's interesting, and I think it’s one of the reasons I despise Isabeau POV fanfics. Most fanfics feel almost like his facade is him, and thats just not true and it bugs me so very much to read fanfics with his POV now. But! This isnt to say those fanfics aren’t well done! They are, I just find them lacking in canon Isabeau’s almost neutral analytical personality that was then filtered through therapy and self help books esque vibe. Fascinating character, hate him dearly for it though.

Misc thoughts:

I generally have a hard time nailing down everything I feel about him for a variety of reasons but I do want to say that I think he finds Siffrin’s big melt down appearance attractive after the whole thing blows over. I also think he doesn't have the best track record for what is okay to say or not? So he falls back on “I am dumb therefore I can say things that others find disturbing and frame it as something I just don't understand or misunderstood :)” which kind of backfires on him constantly because now no one really takes him seriously? I don’t know, I just find most smart characters have a hard time figuring out the social situation of certain things so they tend to either not care at all for tact or overthink everything and over compensate by not allowing themself to go for certain things. In this instance its him not being able to confess because he thinks he's bad for liking someone in a certain way and doesn't want to pressure them which backfires because he's otherwise a good communicator but failed hard with Siffrin. Speaking of, I don’t think hes ever gotten with anyone other than Siffrin. It took the world literally almost ending and a time looping induced trauma attack for him to confess he liked Siffrin, this man does NOT have game. So, lol, that kiss? Probably his first <3, RIP my man did not deserve that

Odile:

Strangely enough I don’t believe I have ever written a meta post for Odile? Or anything about her other than tags? So yeah, let's focus on her. She's a very honesty based character in a game literally about someone not being able to speak the truth, which is why I appreciate the sus route so much. She noticed something was wrong and went for it, leading her down rabbit holes best left untouched. Odile is a character that I truly think would have accidentally unleashed an eldritch horror on the quest if not for Isabeau stopping her. Mainly because she is smart but not academic smart, she's learned from her travels plenty of things that lend to real life experience but she's not much of an academic when it comes to how to get answers she wants (taking until the very last town to get a familytale while Siffrin took maybe three loops to do is. Certainly something!). Its fascinating, because if I were to actually describe her personality and how that lends to a character archetype I would say that she's a brawler character. Effectively, she and Isabeau are reflections of each other in a very specific way and I think about this often in her relation to the group. Its almost laughable how shes been put into this responsibility role of the group while Isabeau is off goofing around (and secretly plotting how to best respect his friends remains), shes not very good at knowing what is the best course of action and acts out in impulsive ways that harms others (Looking at you, hitting Trauma Big Siffrin moment) and that doesn’t… make her a good leader per say? I just find it funny, how others write her as someone who would go out of her way to research Siffrin’s home country and succeed when she barely succeeded in her own knowledge hunt. If anything, it would be Isabeau who would find the information and inform Odile rather than the other way round. I dunno, I just don’t think anyone is really considering the fact that she probably hasn’t set foot into a higher academic institution just based on her research skills.

Misc thoughts:

I’ve only seen one fanfic acknowledge the fact that Odile hit Siffrin? And did so in such a way that it hurt badly. I wouldn’t be surprised if it left a scar (which that little freak probably adores because he knows that it means he wont forget Odile ever again), alongside the others they gave themself. Speaking of said hurting, I don’t think it's really acknowledged how much Odile puts down Siffrin? Yes it's usually just a teasing moment here or there, but have yall thought of the fact that she compared Siffrin to an animal and has hit him? I think about this so much. I think about it when I'm trying to fall asleep sometimes. She did that to him, and he *remembers it,* he acknowledges it during act 5, he has that ingrained into his *soul.* I think people should write about it more, or at least acknowledge that Siffrin probably… doesn’t want to talk to Odile about feelings or be touched by her for a while? Honestly, if I was Siffrin’s position during the failed friendquest moments? I would have said worse. I would have done worse. Because can you imagine? Imagine with me, you just remembered that your country is gone, everyone you love either doesnt remember you or is dead, the only person who could possibly tell you anything is the man you must kill, and your family member is talking about how hard it is to be in the country her mother is from and not feel a connection to it. That you are both more than your heritage. I would start biting, kicking, fighting, hell I would probably find out what she looks like without her bun! I would be pissed. But yaknow, Siffrin is a nice fella and kind of only waited to go off the deep end when they were sure they wouldn’t be able to escape. Anyway, I think of Odile sometimes and get violently ill by the knowledge she no longer holds that would explain some of Siffrin’s reactions and word choices to her cause no matter what? She can’t take it back. She never even said it. It’s not even real anymore. God I love this game, it makes me feel sick.

Mirabelle:

Big ol’ sigh, yeah the-bitter-ocean if your out there I think about your tags on my Mira post a lot. The fandom doesn’t really get her do they? Most of the time I see people write her off as not very understanding or oblivious to other people’s feelings, which fair for romance (she didnt notice the very glowing sign of what I believe to be a ginger blushing but yaknow I understand as aro) but shes very good at knowing when someone isn’t feeling well? She has several unique dialogue options after Siffrin gets up from the field after looping which Odile does not have (despite EVERYONE ACKNOWLEDGING THEY’RE NOT OKAY), and asks after their wellbeing despite being in a constant anxiety attack and morality stress issues induced panic attack in the house. The only real big character flaw is a very typical shonen main character flaw which is that she is too trusting to a degree that it let Siffrin get away with almost destroying the world, Bonnie dying, and the others stepping all over her own feelings (not that any of these are her fault, but she did contribute to the lack of communication which lead to the loops. I love her, I do, but EVERYONE had a hand in Siffrin getting stuck in the loops). Her trust is also what led to the big fallout and slap she gives Siffrin during act 5, she was already giving her heart to him and the others and was constantly checking in during the adventure to make sure everyone was happy and okay with what was happening so the sudden switch from her POV is a huge betrayal of her trust in them. This is basically someone you were already on edge about hating you suddenly deciding that yes, they do hate you and everything you stand for because *they know.* No matter what you think about the situation, Mirabelle’s trust (her biggest character flaw) was thrown back into her face after she thought they were okay with her (not even a few weeks ago they said that this was the happiest they have ever been and she *remembers this fully and utterly*) and broke her heart with all her insecurities. It’s a very hopeless situation when you don’t have context, which means I don’t really blame her for slapping Siffrin, I just wish that it didn’t happen because as a Player I know the full context. Betrayal of trust… its a funny thing in this game, because it wasn’t a betrayal specifically from one POV but from the other it was. Fascinating! I despise it, I love it, it makes me sick.

Misc Thoughts:

Oooooh Mira we are in it now, This endgame of yours has left you with insecurities and trauma you didn’t think possible. I love her, I do, which is why I also have a great idea for a fanfic that involves her getting some VERY bad coping mechanisms <3 teehee. Careful what you wish for darling! Things go bad if you don’t take care of what you love. Anyway, I don’t think it’s weird to have Mira in outfits that are contrasting too heavily from her personality in the game? I dont know how to say this, but I think it’s a tad strange that I’ve seen roleswap aus/personality swap aus where Mirabelle is different via aesthetic? Because thats her whole religion? Sure she doesnt want to change but I don’t think she minds much clothing or aesthetic wise? In fact i think she considers that the safest option? So I dunno, I think people should dress her in goth and emo outfits more. Also I do think its a tad silly people don’t focus too much on her journey trauma and rather focus on her romance trauma, yall know that was just a distraction and not her main issues, right? Like yall know this game isnt romance the simulator, right???? RIGHT???? God Mira, you would hate that the fandom boils you down to your AceAroness, I just fucking know it.

Bonnie:

Who let this sassy small child into this story???? God, dearest Bonnie, the literal best party member Imo. I love them dearly, they are one of the meanest fucking assholes in the game I adore them. Yall think about the longstanding issues Siffrin has with touch and reaching out and how the rotten adults route fucking annihilates them into smithereens lol. I think about the fact that Bonnie has harmed Siffrin soooo much in the loops, it leaves me breathless because this small child has killed Siffrin twice, slapped their hands away when they tried to help them (for the first time in Bonnies POV!! Thats huge!!), and yelled at them multiple times about how awful they are. I do wonder what would have happened if the rotten adults route continued without looping? Who would have spoken up and who would have had to realize that something is WRONG with Siffrin in that moment? Would Bonnie backpedal when they realize? What was Siffrin’s facial expression right then? What happened? I just. God. Fuck. No one talks about this AT ALL in the fandom and it drives me insane. Despite everything, despite what was erased, what was unmade, the effects stayed and will continue to harm Siffrin. Do yall think about the idea that Siffrin probably doesnt reach out until Bonnie does post loops? I think about this so much, Bonnie has harmed Siffrin so many times it would kill them if they ever found out, and I desperately need them to find out. I also kind of,, just assumed that Bonnie would be keeping a keen eye on Siffrin’s eating and remind them to eat and drink water (even if I dont think Siffrin needs that) after the loops because its an easy way to help and have some control over situations? I dunno, I think Bonnie is a very complicated kid who has harmed and been harmed and no one will ever know just how much has been done and undone.

Misc Thoughts:

I still think Bonnie should be able to make and throw bombs post bomb memory. I just NEED Bonnie to throw a molotov at the King, fuck, it would be so funny. Also as a side note, I do think growing up Bonnie has to deal with a lot of untreated Trauma and probably reacts very similar to Siffrin before someone comments on the fact that they are just like him and suddenly they start going to a therapist about it, I do not think they would take it as a compliment for even one instance. They would get sick so fast and go, me and them? Similar? No. I have to go to get a doctor. I cannot be a Frin Jr. the world could not handle it. And suddenly they have the second best mental health of the group (first goes to Isabeau because Isabeau was already in therapy before the game, I just fucking know it <3) which makes everyone fucking jealous as hell because seriously? The Kid??? Damnit. But yeah I do think the fastest way anyone could get Bonnie to accept help is to compare them to Siffrin because they do have a Recognition of Self in the Other (derogatory) thing going on with Siffrin in the game, which is probably worse by the fact that they grew up with him as a role model. Everyone that knows them is like, oh my change your so lucky! The saviors are your family that must be so cool <3, and Bonnie is like. They make me to go to bed on time and force me to eat veggies what the fuck are you saying. Anyway yeah I love Bonnie so much, the meanest fucking kid in the game <3.

Siffrin:

Aaauuuggghhhhh, the one everyone is waiting for, the Siff of the Frin. Love this fucking idiot, but yeah lets talk touch and how the family has hurt them over the loops <3. Okay so straight out the gate, Bad touch! Isabeau pushing them away after they kiss him, which is very understandable because yaknow Isabeau could tell that was a desperation kiss and is not okay for either of them but! Holy shit! Siffrin, my dear friend that was probably the worst thing you could have done, but yeah that did leave its marks deeply in them so I will mark that down as harmed. Then we get the bad friendquests, which yeah Isabeau hitting them with the “I thought you were also trying” hurts more than I can physically say, but we’ll mark that down as two. Then Odile hits them, grabs their collar, sus quest bullshit, and general disdain for Siffrin lying about the stars we’ll mark down as four more which leads to six. Mirabelle slapping Siffrin and letting him get away with lying about his health we’ll put at 8. Bonnie pushing him into a tear, pineapple, slapping hands away, and yelling at them multiple times we’ll put at 12. Then there's the “like taming a wild animal” teasing which Ill put at 13, all of which is just off the top of my brain and I know there's more moments that hurt Siffrin deeply. Yaknow, looking at this, typing this, it seems a tad silly but. How else could I describe the never ending pain at knowing that most of these wont be acknowledged as bad for Siffrin as it was bad for the others? I dunno, I think about Siffrin giving everything up for the party and no one knowing exactly what they did because how could they? It’s gone. It’s not real anymore, not until Siffrin says it. I just. I dont know where I’m going with this but Siffrin as a character hurts me deeply, and I think it’s because no matter what happens Siffrin refuses to acknowledge when the others hurt him back. Just. Keeping the cycle going because they dont know how to break it, and they never have until they break first. I just think of this a lot. Him being stuck, in circles over and over.

Misc Thoughts:

I wanna chew him up and spit him out like a dog toy. No further comments (see my blog for further comments). ((I need to see a Self inflicted Achromatic animatic, pls, fuck plsssss))

LOOP:

Loop time!! Loop time! I am physically ill because of this beast. You all know that one fanart where it says “You Won!” and Loop is dry heaving? Thats me at literally any moment when I think about Loop.

I am a little shy to admit though that I didn’t catch their facade at first, mainly because I’m not very good at catching things like that at first? If a person acts a certain way, thats how they act! So Yeah, ya boy was confused by two hats lol. But afterwards I did do a bit of thinking and as I mentioned in a previous post i do think Loop is pretending/acting like how they remembered Siffrin acted like before the loops. Mira mentions that Siffrin is mean in teasing, enough so that it might have hurt if she didnt know that it was friendly teasing. Isabeau has a great monologue about his feelings on Siffrin before the loops, and Siffrin themself acknowledges some of their less than savory traits before the loops during the loops as well. This is to say, Loop is a fucking prick that tries to be floating and teasing in their comments while hitting where it hurts in just the right way that they can pretend that they mean something else. I genuinely think thats how Loop remembers themself before they were Loop, even if they got some things VERY WRONG. Of course, by the time they realize this it’s too late and that’s their personality now, which is kind of fucked up when you realize how much of their personality is them acting out a half remembered person who died many many many loops ago. But alas, such is the way of Loop.

Also if we think about Loop in comparison to Siffrin. Well. We get an interesting picture. But the thought makes me too ill to continue. But I will say loving someone so much you destroy yourself for them… I don't think anyone in the family would be happy about that really. Theres a difference between destroying yourself and destroying the world… I wonder why that is for them, what made the difference between self and the world. A fool, and the world. Hmm. Interesting. Anyway, Loop’s facade gets me everytime and I want to use them as a stuffed animal.

Misc Thoughts:

Yeah that STAR CAN NOT EAT OR DRINK, lol get rekted they cant even fucking get drunk. Now for some HCs, I do think that Loop would wear a promise ring, even if no one in this Vaugarde understands what that means. I just. Think that Loop wouldn’t be able to let go of Their Fighter. Hahaha! I don’t really wanna go further into detail about this rn but I AM THINKING… Loop is one of the saddest characters I have ever fucking had the audacity to love. No I will not take comments on this further lol. (Me loving Loop and Siffrin while disliking Isabeau? Call me an Isabeau Kinnie at the rate lol)

#Isat #isat spoilers #isat isabeau #isat mirabelle #isat odile #isat bonnie #isat siffrin #isat loop #pure unfiltered thoughts I did not proof read this so if I got anything wrong pls blame it on the drink I had #Adult icecream teehheeeee #Anyway if I catch anyone clowning in my notes ITS ON SIGHT #also this is about 3580 words lol

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oddfable · 2 months

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Sketches of my lovely lovely MC for the magnificent @loveandleases's "Love and Leases".

Nothing real serious, just some doodles of my MC Julia and Cam (or, well... my interpretation of him). This boy has me in a chokehold, and I can't believe Julia picked prissy Chris over him T-T

I'm also really looking forward to Gage and Ardent's romances, but I'll need to build the willpower to NOT romance Cam before I can get to them. Same with Markus and Isaac, and mmmaaaaayyybbbeee Kara. I only hesitate going for her because I'd feel bad if MC dates every Clarke sibling BUT Cam. Doubly so because he is, in my humble opinion, the best Clarke.

Anyways, my heads just buzzing with little tidbits about my girl, so here's a bunch of useless knowledge about her down below.

Quick heads up! This is basically just a long rant about her and her relationship with Cam. Read at your own peril, it's unnecessarily long and dumb.

Name: Julia Fontaine

Dog: Koi the shih tzu

Career Path: Modeling for Cam

Summary: If Jade is the "It Girl", cool and collected and desired, Julia is the "Good Girl". The quiet, well-behaved girl. The sweet plain-Jane. The nice but forgettable sister, quickly overshadowed in the blinding brilliance of Jade Fontaine.

Basically, she was the boring one.

Years of being overlooked in favor of Jade left Julia vying for attention by being perfect. Perfectly behaved, perfectly smart, perfectly understanding and in her shell and away from the spotlight. And for the longest time, this left her very insecure and even more reserved than she already was. For as much as she loved Jade and held little resentment, there was still a part of Julia that compared herself to Jade negatively. After all, it was natural for everyone to favor Jade. And there had to be a reason everyone liked her better.

The only exception to this was Cam.

Whereas other friends would be lured away by her mesmerizing older sister, Cam stuck to Julia's side like a stubborn stain on white sheets. And in doing so, Julia not only thrived in his presence but grew into herself.

Julia came alive whenever Cam was around. With him she smiled brighter, laughed louder, felt more genuine in each and every of her interactions. She was playful, and teasing, and had a much warmer atmosphere. Unafraid of showing how she truly felt. Embracing all of her emotions, the positive and negative.

He helped her be confident, not only in herself as a person, but in her love for art. An outlet that she happily turned into a hobby, and a skill that she tirelessly worked on and developed over the years. Though she still hesitates doing anything worthwhile with it, Julia is easily skilled enough to try going professional as an artist.

Cam brings out the best and the worst of Julia. And for a while, she thought he was "the one". But when his heart went to someone else, her own was stolen by Chris Clarke.

And what a mistake that was, falling for Chris Clarke.

_____________________________

History

Developed a crush on Cam at a very young age. Realized her growing feelings sometime in middle school. Did her best to ignore them until junior year of high school. Starting junior year, she slowly overcame her fear of destroying the friendship and subtly tried confessing. The problem? Her "confessions" were either too vague, easily misunderstood as admission of feelings for someone else, or she would straight up chicken out last minute. ~*~

In college she said "Fuck it" and was going to confess to Cam as straightforward as possible. She had a whole plan and everything. Found an interesting gallery exhibition she knew he'd love and made reservations at a very popular, slightly high-end restaurant. She worked super hard and saved up for months at her part-time job to afford a whole new (pricey) outfit and makeup set, to fund the entire date herself, and so she could buy him this camera he'd recently mentioned. It was a professional camera, recently released, and very expensive. BUT totally worth it. ~*~

Legit went all out when planning to romance him. ~*~

Was going to ask Cam to "hang out" (aka initiate the date) when she heard he was dating someone. Putting her confession on hold, Julia was in complete denial of this new development. Then she saw him with his new girlfriend. She was heartbroken. Regardless, she pushed her own feelings aside and became the #1 supporter of Cam and his girlfriend. Literally went out of her way to get out of the way for the new girl. ~*~

She repurposed the camera she bought as a Christmas gift for Cam. Claimed it was an investment in his future career, but also a bribe so he'd photograph her future wedding for free. ~*~

Before college, Julia didn't think much of Chris. He was kind of just there. Like, a background prop you didn't really notice. Sure, they'd exchange pleasantries and maybe even chitchat for a bit, but that was it. She had no interest in him. When Cam started dating his now-ex, Chris swooped in and wormed his way center stage of Julia's life. The two formed a very close and tight knit friendship. ~*~

Julia was hesitant to start dating Chris. Even though she'd mostly gotten over him, Julia still had lingering feelings for Cam. She ended up giving Chris a shot so long as he promised he'd have no expectations. Much to her shock, Julia was quickly swept off her feet, all feelings for Cam fading away. Needless to say, Julia was genuinely head-over-heels in love with Chris. ~*~

Despite falling for Chris, Cam remained Julia's "person". Her touch stone, someone she absolutely couldn't live without. Wanting her boyfriend and best friend to get along, she put max effort into mending their relationship. The results were... less than ideal. BUT, she tried. Additionally, she put a lot of effort into getting to know Kara better and rest of the Clarkes. ~*~

After "the incident" and moving in with Cam, Julia is horrified her feelings for the red head have returned with a vengeance.

Trivia

Julia paints and draws both digitally and traditionally. That said, she lowkey prefers traditional medium. She loves oil paint the most and is particularly fond of using splash techniques when she can afford the paint and canvas. She'll strategically splashes paint onto the canvas and forms shapes until she gets the image she wants. When it come to people or animals, she's more precise with her strokes. You could say her style is more on the expressionist side. ~*~

A lot of her older drawing notebooks are filled with doodles of Cam. ~*~

Was a tall kid. Would use her height advantage to affectionately tease Cam. Lowkey wonders if their current height difference is some kinda universal karma, especially when he gently teases her the way she used to teased him. ~*~

They have the same energy as a pair of bonded cats so in sync they're basically joined at the hip. ~*~

Julia and Chris were actually a great pair, and Julia would have remained loyal to him till the end of her days had he stayed faithful. She would do a lot of little things to show how much she appreciated him. Things like bring him a snack if he was still working at home. Pack him a nice lunch if she got up early enough and was in the mood, topped with a little stick-it note of a cute drawing and words of affirmation. Also freely gave shoulder massages and back hugs, and overall was incredibly physically affectionate. ~*~

You could say she was physically affectionate to the point of being clingy. Luckily, for the most part, she was empathetic enough to pick up if she was being too much and back off. If she didn't pick up on it, all you'd need to do was tell her and she'd step back. ~*~

Love languages are physical touch and words of affirmation. ~*~

With anyone else, Julia would want to wait until marriage to be "intimate". With Cam, she's pretty much ready to go any time he is. The reason isn't that deep: Julia is terrified of being tied down to a bad relationship because of amazing sex (has seen it happen plenty of times, does not want the same fate). But with Cam, things are different. She has a level of trust in him that goes beyond reasonable. There is no line in the sand when it comes to him, because she knows, in her heart of hearts, that he'd never do anything to hurt her. And she'd never do anything to hurt him. ~*~

Has thalassophobia. Mostly centered around the ocean and sea, but is also unsettled by huge lakes. Could probably overcome it if Cam is with her. Even then, she's goanna be clinging to him like she's dying and he's a lifeline. ~*~

When dating Cam, she half-jokingly suggests they skip dating and get married at the courthouse. Then they can start saving up for their dream wedding. Claims they've known each other so long that it'd work out fine. Says this as a joke because she wants to test the waters and see if the idea puts him off or not. She would absolutely elope and start saving for the wedding of their dreams if he implied he's down for it. She may or may not already have a few ideas for engagement and wedding rings. ~*~

I like to imagine that, after getting notoriety as Cam's model, Julia gains the confidence to sell some of her paintings. I also like to imagine that she and Cam are extremely successful in the world of art and photography.

#love and leases #MC #Cam #Fanart #Doodle #Sketch

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artiststarme · 2 years

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What If Steve Were To Leave Hawkins? Part 18

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17

Well, I don't really like this one but I want to get something out today! Only two more parts, it's bittersweet in a way. I did not think that the first fic I ever wrote would have so many parts or be over 70 pages on a google doc.

I'm already working on a few new fics though I don't know if I'll end up posting them. One is a Steve superpower fic and the other is an angsty one with Steve and Eddie leaving together. Would anyone be interested in reading those?

~*~*~*~

Steve was feeling good. While he had initially been nervous to see his family again after being ignored and leaving town, he recognized that he may have judged the situation too harshly. The entire Party, besides Erica who was still at summer camp, was sitting at one of the picnic tables set up in the Byers’ backyard. They were all laughing and catching up until Hopper cleared his throat and brought up the dreaded topic.

“So, I know we’re all having a good time here but I think we should talk about what happened,” he said, immediately bringing everyone’s attention to Steve.

Steve chuckled nervously, “Um, I don’t think we do. Everything’s fine, we’ve all moved on.”

Steve didn’t need anyone else pointing out his flaws. He’s already been made aware that he misunderstood the situation and acted too hastily, he really didn’t want to talk about it again. And if there was one thing he hated above all else, it was seeing people become sad when they were supposed to be happy. He saw the kid’s smiles starting to fade at Hopper’s words and he desperately wanted to keep them there. “Besides, I’m back right now! Let’s focus on that. Where’s the ice cream?”

Hopper glared harder at his pseudo-son and gruffly muttered, “we are talking about it. You left without telling anyone, had us looking for you for months thinking we might find a body, and then you show up acting like nothing happened!”

He turned his angered gaze to Eddie sitting next to Steve, “And don’t think you’re off the hook either, Munson. You were talking to him for weeks without telling any of us. Then you disappeared too. I had to deal with Wheeler trying to push me into charging Steve with kidnapping.”

At that, both Steve and Eddie nearly gave themselves whiplash turning to look at Mike. “What the hell, bro?” Eddie was surprised and somewhat touched at his concern.

Meanwhile, Steve felt the opposite. He was offended, he’d known this kid for years and he still hated him despite everything he’d done. The fucker was permanently on his shit list now. “What the fuck, Wheeler? You little shit!”

Hopper cleared his throat once again to drag their offended expressions away from the scowling teen. “Language! You both should know better than to disappear without telling anyone, especially with what we all have gone through. So what happened?”

Steve looked at Eddie. Eddie looked at Steve. Everyone else looked at them looking at each other. Steve sighed and tried to explain in a way that wouldn’t expose his vulnerability. “I didn’t think anyone would care if I left. My dad kicked me out and I didn’t have anywhere else to go. None of you had talked to me in weeks at that point so I just started driving. I ended up in Chicago and now I really like it there.”

Everyone around the table looked slightly horrified. They had all played a part in his departure, they knew. But they didn’t consider how distant and unreachable they had made themselves.

“Kid, why didn’t you come here? Joyce and I told you that you could stay here whenever you needed to. Why didn’t you come to us?” Hopper asked, his gruff voice strained and congested.

Steve just shook his head, his fingers twisting Eddie’s in search of comfort. “I didn’t want to bother you guys. You already have three kids, I didn’t want you to have to take me in because of pity.”

“So instead you went off on your own like a dumbass?” Max said.

He glanced at her, “I’ve been alone my entire life so yeah, it wasn’t that bad. I found a job and an apartment. I’m happy now.”

“Why didn’t you reach out to anyone, Steve? We were really worried about you,” Joyce added.

“Everyone seemed to be going about their normal lives when I called. I didn’t think you guys really noticed that I was gone and I didn’t want to bother you. I really don’t want to talk about it,” Steve said, frowning and making moves to make himself appear smaller.

Eddie, sensing his boyfriend’s inner turmoil, placed a comforting hand on his knee, an action hidden from view of the others at the table. Steve shot him a manically desperate but appreciative close-lipped smile. His eyes begged Eddie to do something to draw the attention away from him.

And Eddie would always do what he could to help his boyfriend. Without hesitation, he blurted, “Steve and I are dating!”

With that, Steve’s self-inflicted disappearance was forgotten. The reactions ranging throughout the group were extreme. Hopper had the most dramatic spit take of his life and spit his iced tea all over El and Mike that sat opposite him at the table. El looked confused at the situation before leveling her father with a glare for drenching her new shirt in iced tea and spit. Mike was glowering at Steve looking absolutely disgusted. Will and Joyce had small, surprised smiles on their faces. Nancy and Johnathan’s jaws dropped in surprise, staring at the two in the utmost shock. Lucas and Dustin similarly looked shocked like they had expected anything else. Max was blankly looking at them like she already knew. Robin was looking at Steve nervously, anxiously awaiting his reaction. And Steve? He was looking at Eddie in horrified shock. So that wasn’t the distraction that he was gunning for then.

Mike, unsurprisingly, collected his wits most quickly. “Are you fucking kidding me?! First my sister and now my Dungeon Master? Do you have no fucking shame, Steve?”

His indignation brought Steve out of his shock quickly, defensiveness overtaking his initial horror. “Okay, watch your fucking mouth, Wheeler. This has literally nothing to do with you. Nothing! I don’t know why you’re always so invested in my love life but it’s weird, dude. Stop.”

Mike sputtered and seemingly could not find anything justifiable to say in response. Robin jumped in then, face still aflame in a heavy blush. She said, “Well I support you and I am happy that you are happy! Right, guys?”

She turned to the others that were still recovering from their shock. They all nodded except for Hopper. His blank expression made Steve anxious, even more so when he got up from his seat and moved towards him.

“Hop, I just… I’m sorry… I just-”

He was silenced when Hopper pulled him into a bear hug. “I’ll always support you kid, even when you’re interested in the likes of Munson here. I might not understand it but I accept it.”

Steve hugged him back with tears in eyes, “Thanks, Hop.”

They both pulled away after another moment and Hopper went back to his seat next to Joyce. The whole table was up in arms debating on whether they had seen this coming (Max, Lucas, and Will said they had; Dustin, Mike, and El definitely did not). Steve just smiled at the chaos that was his family and pulled a blushing Eddie up by the shirt collar before tugging him close. Steve looked into Eddie’s eyes and whispered against his lips, “you’re such a dipshit.”

Eddie smiles and runs his tongue along his lower lip, “yeah, but I’m your dipshit.”

Steve barked a laugh in response before giving him the grossest, messiest kiss he could manage. Even with the disgusted outcries from the Party and the berries being thrown at them courtesy of Robin, kissing Eddie and being surrounded by family had Steve feeling happy and complete.

Part 19 Part 20: Epilogue

Updated Taglist: @nickavalens @conversesweetheart @themostunoriginalpersonever @swimmingbirdrunningrock @eddiethegreatteddybear @harrumphingtons @call-me-big-eyes @moonshadows-13 @glittergluekintsugi @cpidcupk @doubleb11 @mentalcyborg @amoris-no-smut-allowed @purple-lemonade @labels-are-for-the-weak @thebrazilianatheist @rajumat @livelaughlexa @5ammi90 @colorful565 @marvelousforlife @chaoticcoffeequeen @gregre369 @suddenlyinlove @thegreatmistake @stillfullofshit @nburkhardt @batxsignalsx @newunknowns @thosemessyvibes @tailsfromthecrypt @luciana-rowan @bird-with-pencils @adaed5 @lolawon @flustratedcas @iwillfindmyneverland @messrs-weasley @skoomy-doompy

@yearningagain @forest-fogg @bitchysunflower @stardust-era @newtstabber @bobatrash-queen @notjasontxdd @ohlook-afrog @00biscuit @grtwdsmwhr @oxidantdreamboat @the-witch-forever-lives @estrellami-1 @whatthemeepever @a-simple-gaywitch @imzadidragonfly @freddykicksasses @krimsonsimp @whatthefuccck @delta-piscium @anaibis @tinynebula @darkwitchoferie @evix-syne666 @tawghasa @pyrohonk @lillys-weird-world @superduckmilkshake @paintsplatteredandimperfect @tiny-enthusiast @whalesharksart @krazyperson @username-i-guess @ilikechocolatemilkh @awkwardgravity1 @romanticdestruction @espressopatronum454 @idontgetpaidenoughforthisshit

#Hopper starts complaining about the PDA #the kids stop their squabbling immediately to call him out for being homophobic #Hopper just doesn't like seeing his kids making up with people #Eddie outing himself to get the attention off of Steve without realizing he's outing Steve too #He gets yelled at for that later by both Steve and Robin #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #dustin henderson #steddie #fanfic #mike wheeler #max mayfield #lucas sinclair #stanger things #chief jim hopper #joyce byers

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funnier-as-a-system · 2 years

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hey hi help i thought i might be a system but then i spiraled and long story short my Boys AREN'T RESPONDING AND I DON'T KNOW WHERE THEY ARE IT'S LIKE BEING ALONE BUT WORSE

like they were there and then they weren't and every time i tried to talk to them it felt like i was just talking to myself and making a fake person to respond? is this normal??

i'm panicking a little, sorry for the rant

Alright, first thing: let's try to calm our panic a little bit. Take a deep breath or two, splash some water on your face, do whatever helps you calm down. Panic Mode does not help the majority of crises, this one included, so let's turn our attention to the issue at hand.

By the way you speak, it sounds that you recently figured out you're a system, but your troubles with internal communication are causing you to doubt yourself. I'm going to be responding under the assumption that that is what's happening. If I've misunderstood, feel free to send a follow-up ask.

It is very common, especially in newly discovered systems, to struggle with internal communication. Internal communication is sort of like drawing – you may have a knack for it right off the bat, or you may not, but either way you're still going to have to work to get better and figure out what works for you. It's a whole new skill to learn – one that can be finicky for some people! You are not alone with having difficulty internally communicating; we had the same sort of problems when we first had our syscovery. It took us a good few months to build up a reliable communication system in our brain, during which we had to figure out things like how to send each other our thoughts, how to listen to each other without accidentally blocking people out, what to do if an intrusive thought was shared via internal communication, etc. When you're first starting out, internal communication can be really hard, and sometimes this means you may struggle to hear anyone at all.

In fact, related to that last statement, it's not uncommon to have periods of not hearing anyone at all, even for systems with good internal communication. Sometimes, headmates are just away from the front, or your brain has decided it's going to shut down comms for a few days, or some other nebulous problem has reared its head. It's uncomfortable, and it can be scary, but not hearing anyone doesn't mean you're not a system. Some systems don't have any internal communication, after all!

There is one important thing I want to bring up, however. The feeling that you're not talking to a real headmate, and rather just making up responses with an imaginary person? We've been there. Other systems have been there. Sometimes even headmates mistake themselves as imaginary. Think about it – you are engaging with a hypothetical (because you're not sure yet if they're really there) person who shares your body, the very concept of which goes against a lot of what we're taught, and you are trying to set up a method of communication with this hypothetical person via what is essentially one-person telepathy. It's a situation that is prime for self-doubt to grow.

But – fantastic news – there are ways to help yourself battle this self-doubt. Here's some of the tactics we came up with while developing internal communication:

Ask your headmates to say random things to you. Just random words that pop into their heads! Sometimes, you may be able to guess what they're going to say before they say it, since their head is also your head, but other times they may be able to surprise you. Hell, as I was writing this, someone in my system just told me, "Baseball," and I have no idea where the hell they pulled that from.

Write down internal conversations after you have them. This helps in two ways: one, you will have records to look back on the next time you're doubting yourself, and two, you can add notes about the conversation based on what your headmate says about it. For example, when I write down quotes from my system, sometimes the person who said the quote will tell me how they want it formatted. If you're writing down on paper, you could even set something up where your headmates can tell you what pen or marker they want you to write their statements in! Make your conversation journal a fun activity for all of you.

Play Simon Says. A headmate can tell you what you want to do, and you'll act it out in the physical world! It can help to see a physical world impact on what's going on inside your head (which, btw, also relates to the pen and marker suggestion). We didn't do this much, but we did do our best to fulfill small requests that other system members made, even when they were somewhat inconvenient for us. Nothing like asking for a particular candy brand you don't especially like just because you know a headmate likes it to kick self-doubt in the shin, am I right?

Think about how your headmates have influenced you or your actions. This can be by asking you to do certain things, making you smile or laugh, moving a part of your body through partial possession, or giving you a headache from switching, just to name a few examples. Focus on experiences that have affected your physical body or the physical world around you, and you'll feel less like it's all just in your head.

Set up a code word to let other system members know that you're struggling. We have a code system with certain words that will communicate to other system members how secure we are in the knowledge that we're a system; if someone says an emergency code word, we know they need reassurance right then, and can do our best to pull them out of self-doubt by talking about the issue or pulling out one of the other self-assurance tactics. It can be especially helpful if saying, "Hey, I feel really insecure right now, can you guys help me out?" feels like too much in the moment.

That's about all the advice we have to give on that matter. We really hope this helps you, anon! And remember – internal communication is not the end-all be-all of being a system. It's okay to struggle; it's okay to be unable to hear your headmates. That doesn't "prove you're not a system." It just means you're going through a quiet period right now. Give it some time, and your boys will probably return – in the meantime, enjoy the quiet and take some time for yourself. You're going to be okay.

TLDR: You're not alone in your experiences, this is a normal thing for newly discovered systems to go through, and having trouble hearing your headmates does not mean you're not a real system.

#thanks for the ask!#really hope you feel better soon anon #we've been where you are and it's not a f.un experience #long post

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robininthelabyrinth · 3 years

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Prompt: WWX is one of JGS's bastard sons, raised by his mother and her husband - until they die when he's young. Then he gets taken into the Jin sect instead of the Jiang.

Right Hand Man - ao3

It was a bad day.

All the days were a little bad, but this one was especially bad.

“He’s Cangse Sanren’s child,” Jin Zixuan’s father said, tapping his fan against his palm so that he would look more like a scholar. Secretly, shamefully, Jin Zixuan thought that it didn’t really work – he just looked like one of those scoundrels that tried to pay for their meals with calligraphy instead of pennies. “Taking him in will show our strength.”

“You dare bring one of your bastard children here,” Jin Zixuan’s mother said, “and I will drown A-Xuan myself rather than let him suffer through the shame of it.”

Jin Zixuan shivered. No matter how many times he heard his mother say that in her cold and vicious voice, he never got used to it. She’d explained to him that it was the only thing that might work on his father – the fear of losing face like that, of shaming his ancestors, of cutting off his legitimate line – and she was his mother so of course Jin Zixuan believed her, but sometimes when she said it like that he thought she might really go ahead and do it.

“It’s the immortal mountain,” his father argued, ignoring the threat. “The perceived connection is only to our benefit…and anyway, he wouldn’t be legitimized or anything. Legally, his father is that Wei Changze – I could even bring the boy in as a servant if that pleased you more!”

“Nothing you say or do will ever please me,” she said, and that’s when she started throwing things and he started shouting and Jin Zixuan waited until they weren’t paying any attention to him before slipping out.

They’d make a decision one way or another.

It didn’t have anything to do with him.

Wei Wuxian was nominally brought in as a guest disciple, but everyone knew he was really a servant.

Jin Zixuan’s mother made sure everyone knew.

Despite this, Wei Wuxian smiled at everyone, seeming as carefree as a butterfly. It didn’t seem to bother him when he wasn’t allowed to wear sparks amidst snow, or even the usual gold of the guest disciples – Jin Zixuan’s mother said that it was better that he wear plain colors, like white or black, to represent his father and mother and show the world that he hadn’t forgotten his filial piety. It didn’t seem to bother him that he had to room with the other servants, or that he wasn’t invited to dinner at the same time as the rest of them, or that he got less training time –

Whatever it was, it didn’t bother him.

It bothered Jin Zixuan, though.

He started having the old nightmares again – the ones where his mother belatedly found out that he’d been swapped in the cradle for another bastard child of Jin Guangshan, and started treating him just the way she treated all the rest of them while praising some other boy up to the heavens – and his temperament, never considered especially good, got worse due to lack of sleep.

“Go talk to him,” Mianmian suggested. “Maybe if you see he’s reallynot bothered by it…”

“It doesn’t matter if he’s not bothered,” Jin Zixuan muttered. “It’s that I would be bothered if I were him.”

She didn’t understand, of course. Most people didn’t.

They couldn’t understand why Jin Zixuan was so bothered by the knowledge that his parents’ love was conditional on his bloodline and legitimacy – after all, he was the beneficiary of that bias, wasn’t he? What did it matter to him if they were cold to others?

Jin Zixuan didn’t know how to explain that the problem was in knowing that their love was conditional.

It didn’t help that Wei Wuxian was excelling despite all his disadvantages – all their teachers praised him in private, or else when they thought that no one surnamed Jin was listening. All of his mother’s dark speculations about what his father would do if ever there was a bastard child brought back that turned out to be even more talented than he was rang in Jin Zixuan’s ears, and he couldn’t help but look at Wei Wuxian, and wonder if this was it, this was the moment, if he was finally going to be replaced…but no, that would never happen. He was the one with the right blood.

It didn’t matter if he wasn’t actually the best.

Nothing he did in life mattered, really. Nothing had ever mattered since the day he’d been born from the right womb.

“He’s actually really nice,” Mianmian said, and Jin Zixuan looked up, wondering what she was talking about, only to blanch when he realized that she was talking to Wei Wuxian. “Just shy, that’s all –”

“Mianmian!” Jin Zixuan hissed, rushing over, horrified. “He can’t be here! If my mother finds out –”

“Is that what you’re afraid of?” Wei Wuxian asked, his face brightening. “I thought you just didn’t like me!”

“I don’t know you,” Jin Zixuan said. “How could I dislike you? But really, my mother –”

“We can be friends!” Wei Wuxian declared, and Jin Zixuan was rendered immediately mute. What exactly could he say to that?

He wanted to be friends, too.

His mother found out, because she always found out, and when she did, she threatened to feed Wei Wuxian to the dogs.

It turned out that Wei Wuxian was scared of dogs, something Jin Zixuan’s mother had figured out pretty quickly. That wasn’t a surprise – she knew best how to find people’s weaknesses, and also how to use them. Looking at Wei Wuxian’s sickly pale face, it was clear to Jin Zixuan that this wasn’t the first time dogs had appeared in one of his mother’s punishment, although this was clearly more severe than in the past.

“It was my idea,” he lied, acting on impulse. “Mother, I want him to be my personal servant.”

“Ridiculous,” she scoffed.

“Why is it ridiculous?” he asked. “Wouldn’t the contrast between us only be magnified that way?”

She pursed her lips, but that wasn’t a ‘no’.

Seeing a possible waver, Jin Zixuan decided to trade away one of the very few point on which he and his mother had long disagree.

“He’s charming,” he said. “He can help me woo the Jiang sect girl.”

His mother knew him well enough to know that he was trying to manipulate her, but he also knew that she liked it when he did that. Men were supposed to be upright, straightforward, and virtuous, and yet she liked to see him being subtle and sly – it reminded her of herself. It made her feel like he was more her blood than his father’s, even though in actuality those traits could very well be his father’s, too.

Unfortunately, sneakiness wasn’t really in Jin Zixuan’s nature. Comparing his straightforward and even a little stupid self to his clever and cunning parents, he didn’t know who he took after – it was part of the reason he had so many nightmares about being some cuckoo’s child left in the Jin sect’s nest.

“Fine,” his mother said at last. “He gets one shot.”

Later, when she’d swept off, an empress with her retinue, Mianmian looked at Jin Zixuan with wide eyes. “But Jin-gongzi,” she said. “You don’t wantto marry the Jiang sect girl.”

“I’ve never met her,” Jin Zixuan hedged, which was also true but a little vaguer. He didn’t want to marry a girl he’d never met, one who was several years his elder and who had been described to him only as ‘nice’ and ‘average at best’, just because her mother was his mother’s old friend. He didn’t want his marriage to be yet another thing he had to do because he was someone’s child, rather than his own man.

He wasn’t going to get a choice, though, no matter what he did, just as always. Might as well use it for something good.

Wei Wuxian crashed into him a moment later, clutching him so tightly that it hurt.

“I’ll pay you back,” he promised, his voice tight. “I’ll make it up to you. I’ll be your best friend ever!”

“That’s good enough,” Jin Zixuan said, his face suddenly hot. “There doesn’t need to be anything more.”

Wei Wuxian really was very charming when they went to visit the Lotus Pier, far more charming than Jin Zixuan ever was or would be, and his future bride seemed positively enchanted by him, which was probably a bad thing.

Jin Zixuan felt he should probably do something about it, but he didn’t know what, so he just snuck off and went to go dip his feet into the river, something he almost never got the chance to go while at home.

“I’m sorry,” the Jiang sect heir, Jiang Cheng, said, sitting gingerly next to him.

Jin Zixuan looked at him sidelong, a little surprised. He’d thought that Jiang Cheng hated him. “What for?”

“My sister. Your half-brother.” Jiang Cheng looked uncomfortable. “I can’t even imagine growing up with someone who’d flirt with the person I was engaged to.”

Jin Zixuan thought it over, then shook his head. “I don’t think he likes her like that. Or her him, either,” he said, since it seemed like Jiang Cheng had misunderstood both Wei Wuxian and his own sister. “Wei Wuxian’s just – like that,” he added. “Always. Everyone loves him unless they’re specifically told not to.”

“That’s worse.” Jiang Cheng wrinkled his nose. “He’s the ‘other person’s child’ here, you know. My father really liked his parents – he’s always talking about him. My mother says he wishes he were his son, instead of your father’s.”

“Now that sounds awful.” Probably better for Wei Wuxian, though. Jiang Fengmian would probably treat him like a real son, not the way Jin Guangshan did, like a pawn or a liability or a bastard brought in just for his possible connections – but it would probably be much worse for Jiang Cheng, who’d have to live with that happening right in front of him. It seemed mean to wish for such a thing. “He’s actually pretty nice? We’re friends. I asked him to help me make friends with your sister…I’m not really good at making friends, when it’s just me.”

He hadn’t expected them to hit it off that well, though. At least to Jin Zixuan’s eyes, they’d clearly all but adopted each other as brother and sister the moment they laid eyes on each other…which in his opinion was actually a little bit worse, since he felt like he himself was still painfully trying to figure out what being a sibling was like, and maybe failing at it.

And in all honesty, he felt a little resentful at Wei Wuxian for being picked, too – or was it a little bereft? No one ever picked him just because they wanted to; it was all because of who he was.

Who his parents were.

“I can be your friend, too, if you like,” Jiang Cheng said. He was scowling into the distance. “A better one.”

“Uh,” Jin Zixuan said, startled. “Don’t you – not like me?”

“We’re friends now,” Jiang Cheng scowled at him. “Deal with it!”

Jin Zixuan liked Wei Wuxian a lot, and he liked Jiang Cheng, too, and Nie Huaisang, who he’d just met, fit in with the two of them as if they were three peas in a pod, so he guessed he must like him, too – but if those three endlessly chattering idiots didn’t shut up and let him study he was going to throw himself off some cliff in Gusu and be done with it.

“You really don’t mind me sitting here?” he asked Lan Wangji, who nodded.

Nodded and did not respond verbally – blissful silence!

Still, Jin Zixuan lingered a bit by the door to the peaceful little pavilion he’d found and thought to claim for himself as a secret study place – necessary on account of the fact that Wei Wuxian, Jiang Cheng, and Nie Huaisang spent all their free time together making trouble instead of studying, because Wei Wuxian just did that to people, winning them over despite themselves and then leading them into mischief – only to learn that it belonged to Lan Wangji. It was filled with gentians, which were more Jiang Cheng’s color than Jin Zixuan’s, but Jin Zixuan had seen enough peonies for a lifetime and needed the concealment besides.

It was very kind of Lan Wangji to let him stay, but he still felt he ought to apologize.

And not just for the intrusion.

Wei Wuxian’s ignominious departure from Lan Qiren’s classroom had made it much more peaceful, but that had come at a cost to Lan Wangji’s own education and opportunity to make friends with others – and while Jin Zixuan liked Wei Wuxian a great deal, he wasn’t sure how Lan Wangji felt about being stuck having to monitor him all day.

And now Lan Wangji was being nice to Jin Zixuan, letting him disturb his privacy like this without complaint, and even agreeing to let him stay so that he’d have somewhere quiet to study…he really ought to say something. Maybe apologize for Wei Wuxian, if that was appropriate. It probably was: he was responsible for him, in his own way. The only problem was that he wasn’t sure how to start the conversation –

“Do you like Wei Wuxian?” he blurted out, then felt his face go bright red. He hadn’t meant to ask it that way! After all, who didn’t know how much Lan Wangji disliked Wei Wuxian? He was always glaring at him and saying he was speaking nonsense and telling him to get lost and –

Lan Wangji nodded.

Jin Zixuan blinked. He did? But then why –

“Oh,” he said, suddenly realizing. “You’re socially awkward, too!”

Lan Wangji frowned at him, and Jin Zixuan waved his hands.

“No, no, I don’t mean that as an insult,” he said hastily, trying to cover for his blunder. “It’s like me! I always say the wrong thing, so most of the time I try not to say anything – of course people always get the wrong idea anyway, thinking I’m being quiet because I’m looking down at them…Wei Wuxian’s getting better at understanding people, but he’s still not very good at it, either. I bet he has no idea! If you like him, you should say as much.”

Lan Wangji shook his head.

“…I could say it for you, if you want?”

Even more urgent head-shaking.

Honestly, if Lan Wangji were a woman, Jin Zixuan would’ve thought that he had a crush.

As it was, he was probably just like Jin Zixuan: naturally awkward, and shy about it, too.

“It’s all right,” he said encouragingly. “Next time they throw a party, you can come and sit with me; we can have tea and pretend not to know them. It’s what I always do.”

Lan Wangji stared at him for a long moment, and then finally nodded very slowly.

“I appreciate the offer,” he said, voice neutral. “Thank you.”

When the time came and the Wen sect pushed things too far, naturally Jin Zixuan stood up for Mianmian.

Wei Wuxian, Jiang Cheng, and Lan Wangji all did, too.

Naturally, this made Jin Zixuan feel like complete crap on their account – Mianmian was his friend, his sect, and naturally he had a responsibility towards her; the rest of them were just helping because they were good people, and good friends. But at this point they’d done it, and Wen Chao was angry at them all over it, and there was nothing to be done about it.

And then there was the Xuanwu of Slaughter, and they were all trapped inside with it.

Sometimes, he really hated the Wen sect. Often, even.

“Jiang Cheng, you and Jin Zixuan lead the way out,” Wei Wuxian instructed. “No, don’t protest! You’re heirs of Great Sects; everyone will follow you and listen to you, and that’s critical – you’ll need to evade the Wen sect’s efforts to recapture you. That means cohesion, and cohesion means hierarchy. I’ll stay behind to distract the Xuanwu…”

“That’s a terrible idea,” Jiang Cheng exclaimed.

Jin Zixuan nudged him. “Wei Wuxian’s usually right about this sort of thing,” he reminded him. It was a good thing they’d gotten over that period in their lives when Jiang Cheng thought Wei Wuxian was an evil thief who wanted to take away his older sister and Jin Zixuan’s rightful spouse, when they’d fought all the time while Jin Zixuan desperately tried to get between them. He still had no idea what magic alchemy had happened that had suddenly made them best friends – he suspected Mianmian, or maybe Jiang Yanli – but he was deeply grateful for it. “And we can’t risk the majority. Preserve human life above all else, remember? Teacher Lan’s lessons were very clear.”

“I will remain with Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji said, to no one’s surprise. They’d been more or less inseparable after Jin Zixuan had recruited Jiang Cheng and Nie Huaisang to help them get along better after Wei Wuxian’s temporary exile to the Library Pavilion had ended. It helped that Lan Qiren had pulled Wei Wuxian aside for personal lessons to help him catch up with the rest of them, and that those had somehow metamorphosed into afternoon sessions about inventing new types of musical cultivation techniques in which Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian were the most enthusiastic, and only, students.

Best of all, it had given the rest of them a chance to finally actually do their work.

Well, not Nie Huaisang, but that was only to be expected.

“But your leg –” Wei Wuxian started, and Jin Zixuan nudged him.

“He’ll only be more worried if you don’t let him stay back and join you,” he said reasonably. “Anyway, it’s good for you to have an incentive not to detour into some big flashy heroic bullshit.”

“Awww, but Jin Zixuan, I like big flashy heroic bullshit!”

Jin Zixuan was, by this point, almost entirely convinced that Wei Wuxian actually was the biological child of Wei Changze, and that his father had lied, both about the man’s supposed infertility and possibly about having slept with Cangse Sanren at all. From Jiang Cheng’s stories, inherited from his father, it seemed that Wei Changze was also the sort of person who went in for big flashy heroic bullshit and reckless humor, the sort that would win him a disciple of an immortal mountain as a bride; it certainly seemed more likely than him sharing blood with Jin Zixuan or his father or even Jin Zixun, all of whom tended towards arrogance, but whose flash was all in their clothing.

Not that it mattered at this late date, of course. They were brothers now – as Nie Huaisang would put it, there were no takebacks allowed.

“No bullshit, you hear me?” Jin Zixuan repeated, looking pointedly at Wei Wuxian. “Not allowed. Take care of yourself, okay? Don’t make me have to tell Mistress Jiang that I lost her favorite idiot friend.”

“You tell her?” Jiang Cheng grumbled. “I’ll have to tell her. All right, let’s go.”

Jiang Yanli was not impressed with the fact that they’d left Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji alone in a cave with a giant murderous turtle.

She still made them soup and gave them bandages to wrap up their bloody feet, though.

(Jin Zixuan was never going to make a good impression on her, no matter what Jiang Cheng said.)

“Wen Chao has demanded recompense for the mess at the Nightless City,” Jin Zixuan’s mother said, reading a letter. Her lips curled up in a strange little smile. “He said Wei Wuxian’s right hand would do.”

“Mother,” Jin Zixuan exclaimed, leaping to his feet with his eyes wide. He’d only been home a week from the indoctrination camp, and Wei Wuxian was still lying in bed most of the time, pretending he wasn’t exhausted; Wen Chao must have sent the letter almost immediately after he’d realized they’d escaped. “You can’t be serious!”

“Why not?” she asked. “It’s just what the little bastard deserves, always trying to outshine you.”

Jin Zixuan shook his head, frantically trying to think of a way out of this, because he knew his mother wouldn’t so much as hesitate to order such an atrocity. She’d never forgiven Wei Wuxian for the possibility of being a threat to Jin Zixuan’s position, however remote the chance, and she’d tried very hard to convince Jin Zixuan of it, too – it was the only thing they didn’t agree on, the only thing Jin Zixuan didn’t yield to her on, and he hated every moment of it.

But not as much as his mother hated it.

It was the only thing she couldn’t control in his life, and she hatedit, and hated Wei Wuxian for it, too.

(She couldn’t hate Jin Zixuan. She couldn’t, because he had the right blood, because he was her son, because he was the heir of Lanling Jin and the source of all her power. But sometimes, when the light was dim and she glanced over too quickly and thought she saw his father when she looked at him, he thought that she wanted to.)

“You can’t be serious,” Jin Zixuan said a second time, keeping calm by sheer willpower. No one but him would dare to object if his mother made a move, especially in his father’s absence…and even if his father was there, Jin Zixuan wasn’t sure his father cared enough about Wei Wuxian to endure another fight with his fearsome wife. “Mother, he’s my servant – my responsibility. Whatever he does is my responsibility, whether to my credit or to my deficit. That’s how that works. They may be asking for Wei Wuxian’s hand, but who’s to say, when they come to claim it, that they won’t seek mine instead?”

“They wouldn’t dare.”

“It’s the Wen sect,” Jin Zixuan reminded her. “What don’t they dare?”

She pursed her lips, thinking it over, and for a moment he thought he’d won. “Perhaps,” she allowed, and before he could even breath a sight of relief continued, “But no matter. They’ve set the price, and we can pay it, so why not? We can cut off his hand and send it to them as a peace offering in advance. After all, they’re important allies of ours, and he’s just a bastard.”

“But –”

“No, A-Xuan. No more arguing; I’ve decided.” Her smile broadened. “We’ll do it now.”

Jin Zixuan couldn’t fight with his mother. He’d never had the courage – he was as spineless as his father.

Almost as spineless.

“Yes, Mother,” he said, and drew his sword.

“A-Xuan..?”

“My servant, my responsibility,” he reminded her, and he knew that she’d misunderstood, that she thought that he was going to go take care of the grim task himself. He knew, because for a brief moment in time she looked happy – not true joy, but the only way she ever looked happy for as long as he could remember, like she’d won one over on someone and gotten her way despite everyone’s efforts. He hated to disappoint her. “I have my honor to think of, too.”

Jin Zixuan sent Wei Wuxian to the Lotus Pier, bearing words of warning. His father’s spies had reported that the Wen sect would probably target them first, using Jiang Cheng’s interference in the Xuanwu cave as an excuse – there wasn’t any point going after the Lan sect a second time, and the Jin sect were longstanding allies of Wen Ruohan, with Jin Guangshan being a coward at heart; if Wen Ruohan could keep him out of the inevitable war for a little longer by playing nice, he would.

Word came back not long after that they’d been right: the Lotus Pier had been destroyed.

It also said that Jiang Cheng and Jiang Yanli were missing – missing, but not dead. It didn’t say anything about their parents, and that was suspicious, too.

Maybe sending Wei Wuxian had helped after all.

“We should reach out to the Nie sect,” Jin Zixuan told his father. “With our money and their strength, we can resist the Wen sect long enough for the smaller sects to catch up.”

“The Wen sect is all-powerful,” his father objected. “What’s even the point of resisting? We’d be better off reaching out to them to see if we can reach a peaceful agreement.”

“We’ve already seen what agreement they want to reach,” Jin Zixuan said, and his father’s gaze dropped guiltily to his waist. Jin Zixuan didn’t bother looking down himself. He didn’t do that much, these days. “Am I your heir or am I not? You promised me that I’d inherit a sect, not slavery. Reach out to the Nie sect.”

Jin Zixuan should not talk that way to his father. He had always been a filial son, and a spineless one; his father’s son, and nothing else. The only thing he had going for him was the right blood – and even that wasn't that sure a bet, these days. He knew his father was already thinking about Jin Zixun in a way that suggested that all those rumors about his ‘cousin’ having a different father than the one everyone said he had might have some merit.

It seemed, though, that when pushed to it, he was also his mother’s son.

He hoped she choked on the knowledge.

“Reach out to the Nie sect,” he said again. “With all the cultivation world uniting, the Wen sect’s fall is inevitable. If we don’t act now, we’ll be seen as cowards, hanging back and waiting to see how things fall out to eke out the best advantage – if we act, we’ll be seen as heroes.”

“But what if you’re wrong, and the Wen sect does win?”

“Then we’ll tell Sect Leader Wen that we’re perfectly positioned to negotiate the other sects’ terms of surrender, and use that to win anyway,” Jin Zixuan said, less because he thought that was an acceptable course of action and more because he knew it would be what his father would do anyway. “Call the Nie sect.”

“I’m going to kill you,” Jiang Cheng hissed, wild-eyed, and Jin Zixuan blinked at him, taken aback.

“Is it because I wasn’t able to do more to help with the Lotus Pier?” he asked, feeling helpless. “I really did try to convince my father to send more people, but I barely even got him not to block my sending Wei Wuxian –”

“Not because of that!”

Jin Zixuan took a step back. “Uh, then –”

“You cut off your own hand you maniac!”

“The situation –” Jin Zixuan started backing up. “It was necessary – Wei Wuxian, help!”

“No, he’s right,” Wei Wuxian said, arms crossed. His eyes were teary, but they’d been that way since he’d left Jinlin Tower – ever since the Wen sect’s letter. “You’re a maniac, and Jiang Cheng’s going to kill you, and you’re going to deserve it.”

Lan Wangji, standing beside him, nodded.

“It’s not that bad, really.” Jin Zixuan tried to explain. “My mother and father would never have accepted anything else – threats to me are the only thing that work on them, and even that’s stopped working after all these years. Only a real injury would have an impact. If they hadn’t been so shocked, they would’ve just continued to ignore what the Wen sect was doing, or offered them an olive branch, and then then the Wen sect would’ve used that as an opportunity to come and divide up everyone else. We’d lose precious time to regroup, and the Wen sect would only get stronger and stronger –”

“You. Cut. Off. Your. Hand!”

“The Wen sect demanded the hand of the person who started the rebellion in the Xuanwu cave,” Jin Zixuan said quietly. “That was me, not Wei Wuxian. Why should he pay my debts?”

Everyone still seemed very upset, but maybe a little less murderous. Definitely a lot more teary-eyed.

“Couldn’t you have at least picked your other hand?” Wei Wuxian mumbled. “Your right hand – that’s your sword arm.”

Jin Zixuan shrugged. “They demanded the right hand,” he said. “Anyway, it’s fine, I’ve been using my left, and it’s been going smoothly enough…you know, I think I might actually be left-handed? I never knew; everyone always made me use my right.”

“Does it hurt?” Lan Wangji asked suddenly, and Jin Zixuan hesitated, not sure how to respond to that.

Unfortunately, everyone else took that in the worst way possible, and insisted on taking care of him, no matter how much he tried to explain that it didn’t hurt, not really, not anymore; it was just the strangest feeling of absence. Like something that had always been there wasn’t there anymore.

A bit like his mother. She wasn’t talking to him anymore.

He was a terrible son, and would probably end up spending eternity in some afterlife hell being tortured for failing to properly honor his parents.

He’d already resigned himself.

“How are your parts of the war going?” he asked, trying to change the subject. “Chifeng-zun says it’s going well, but you know how he is; it’s all business with him, you never hear any stories. Did Wei Wuxian really knock out old Sect Leader Jiang when he refused to leave the Lotus Pier? Tell me he didn’t.”

“He did,” Jiang Cheng said, and he looked amused about it – maybe he’d be in the next boiling pot over in the afterlife of unfilial descendants. “He was a little frantic, you see, on account of not wanting to fail you by letting them die. After all, you had just cut off your own hand for him…”

“Are you ever going to let that drop?”

“Sure. As soon as you have two hands again.”

“…so, never.”

“Yes,” Jiang Cheng said patiently. “Never. Never ever, if that makes it clearer for you.”

Jin Zixuan’s new hand was made of steel and wire, under the gilding, and functioned using some of the innovative new talismans that Wei Wuxian had invented. He couldn’t help but hope that they weren’t part of the subset that constituted demonic cultivation because people were being really weird about that.

“It’s like people wanted for me to just die in the Burial Mounds,” Wei Wuxian complained. He was dressed in black and grey and red, which he’d apparently adopted as his new sect colors – Jin Zixuan had only managed to send him out of Lanling the first time by officially ejecting him from the Jin sect, a decision his father had initially endorsed but now, he suspected, was regretting.

It was a lot easier to throw out a servant than it was to invite back the founder of demonic cultivation, especially now that he was a war hero and a sect leader.

“You didn’t have to be in the Burial Mounds to begin with,” Jin Zixuan reminded him, to no avail. “I know I said I needed an army because my father wasn’t supplying us properly, but I didn’t mean ‘invent an entirely new cultivation technique and raise an army of the dead’. You know that, right?”

Wei Wuxian shrugged it off, because of course he did.

“You know, they’re calling me the Yiling Patriarch?” he said, and grinned. “It’s because the Burial Mounds are in Yiling, and because I’m founding my own sect. Or whatever. Like I wouldn’t be supporting you, anyway.”

“It has to be your own sect because otherwise you might be forced to share your secret techniques,” Jin Zixuan explained, not for the first time. “Rogue cultivators don’t have the same protections that sects do, even small sects. It doesn’t matter if you’re the only person in it. Or, well, you and Lan Wangji, I guess.”

“I still can’t believe he’s willing to leave the Lan sect to join me,” Wei Wuxian sighed happily. “He’s such a good friend.”

Jin Zixuan wasn’t sure about the strength of his new hand, which was the only reason he didn’t try to pinch the bridge of his nose in frustration. “You’re a bad influence, you know,” he said instead of trying to explain to Wei Wuxian that people didn’t generally leave their natal sects for the sake of a ‘good friend’. “I nearly hit a girl the other day.”

“You did? You? What’d she do?”

“She gave me soup and implied that she’d made it,” Jin Zixuan said. “Except it tasted exactly the same as the soup Mistress Jiang is always making for you – I’ve had it recently enough to know. Sure enough, I push the issue a bit and it turns out it was Mistress Jiang’s. The girl was just trying to claim credit as an excuse to get close to me.”

He sighed. He’d been so angry about it. They were at war! People were dying, losing their homes, losing everything, and this stupid girl could only think about how to plot and scheme to try to get to a prized position as the future Madame Jin. Had his mother done the same, when it’d been his father…?

“You’ve had shijie’s soup recently?” Wei Wuxian asked. His expression looked slightly odd. “Shijie made you soup?”

“Yeah, I think she’s been dropping off whatever’s left over at my tent when she’s done,” Jin Zixuan said, shaking his head. Jiang Yanli was so nice, really truly genuinely nice. He’d never met anyone like her. “Could you thank her for me? I appreciate the thoughtfulness – it’s filling enough that I don’t need to go to the mess, which means there’s more left over for everyone else.”

“…sure,” Wei Wuxian said. “I’ll tell her. Or, and here’s a thought – why don’t you tell her yourself?”

“Why would I? You’re the one she likes,” Jin Zixuan said, puzzled. “I mean, you’re her adopted little brother, aren’t you? She’s practically your second soulmate, after Lan Wangji.”

“I’m really busy,” Wei Wuxian announced, despite having been lazing around complaining that they didn’t have any encounters with the Wen sect lined up for a whole week only a few moments before. “I couldn’t possibly take the time out of my schedule to go talk to her – you see, I’ve had an idea, which is going to keep me very busy…in fact, I’m not even going to be here at all! I need to go to the Lan sect encampment to consult with Teacher Lan.”

Discovering that Lan Qiren had a mad scientist streak when it came to musical cultivation had been extremely disquieting, Jin Zixuan reflected. The world might’ve been better off if Lan Qiren had never had a chance to actually get friendly with Wei Wuxian – Wei Wuxian provided the terrible ideas, Lan Qiren scolded him about them and then helped him smooth the kinks out of them anyway.

Teacher for a day, father for a lifetime…

“All right,” Jin Zixuan said, though he still didn’t exactly understand what had just happened. “I’ll go talk to her, I guess.”

“I just wanted to make sure you know you’re not obligated to make me soup or anything,” Jin Zixuan said, not sure where this conversation had gone off the rails.

Probably around the time that Jiang Yanli had started smiling at him, because he always turned into an idiot whenever that happened. She was so very nice, not just average at all no matter what anyone said, and blissfully down-to-earth – she wouldn’t be wasting her time and everyone else’s thinking about how to politically advance herself despite there being a war on. She spent all her time learning field medicine and helping cook meals for the mess and –

And he’d better stop thinking because he was turning red again.

“I enjoy making soup for you,” Jiang Yanli said peaceably. “Especially since I know you enjoy it, too.”

“I do! It’s just, I don’t know, you already do so much, with the medics and organizing and everything…It’s – uh – I – listen, I know our parents – you don’t have to pay attention to that. I only have one hand, I’m not – don’t feel obligated, not because of that. And don’t let Wei Wuxian make you think making soup is the only thing you’re good for, no matter how much he likes it, okay? You do so much more than just that!”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” she said, covering her smile with her hand. “You’re very sweet, you know.”

Jin Zixuan made an incoherent sound.

He would need to do something in return, he thought, a little frantic; he really didn’t know how to deal with a sincere compliment from someone he actually liked. Maybe poetry? Girls were said to like poetry. He couldn’t write poetry worth a damn, but he could pay someone –

She kissed him on the cheek.

All thought abruptly departed.

“Don’t worry, it’s not inappropriate – after all, we’re already engaged,” Jiang Yanli said cheerfully. “Which I’m very good with, so don’t worry about that. Good luck in your next battle, Jin-gongzi.”

At some point she must have left, because she wasn’t there anymore, and Jin Zixuan was still opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water.

Mianmian peeked in, then snickered. “Oh no,” she said. “She broke him. Everyone! Come look! She totally broke him!”

“Did you actually cut off your hand to save a servant?” Jin Guangyao asked.

“It was a bit more complicated than that,” Jin Zixuan said, uncomfortable, then added, “Welcome to the family.”

Jin Guangyao smiled.

For some reason, Jin Zixuan felt a shiver run up his spine. He didn’t think he liked this new brother of his, and he felt bad about it – he’d welcomed Wei Wuxian whole-heartedly, hadn’t he? Was it really that different when it actually was someone of his own blood?

He didn’t like that thought.

“I hope we can be friends,” he said, willing it to be true, and Jin Guangyao murmured something agreeable in return.

Jin Zixuan wished he liked him.

“My mother is going to hate you,” he said, because he knew that she would. “If she does, let me know, and I’ll try to stop her…not just her. If anyone treats you wrong, just tell me. I’ll stand up for you.”

Jin Guangyao smiled again.

“You’re so kind,” he said, and for some reason Jin Zixuan had the feeling that he didn’t mean it at all.

Jin Zixuan had been engaged since before he was born, and it still somehow came as a surprise to find himself married. Not just the event, either – these days he woke up with his wife in his arms and was forced to just stare at her lying there in the soft morning light and wonder how he got so lucky.

He was married.

To a very nice girl, who actually seemed to like him a great deal – she’d made that clear enough when she’d had a chance. Very clear, in fact, which was why there was also a very slight curve in her belly that meant that soon enough he wouldn’t just be married, but a father.

“You’d tell me if I was dreaming, right?” he asked Wei Wuxian, who was visiting again. He did that a lot, but in fairness he didn’t really have a settled place to live – everyone knew the supposed ‘sect’ he’d founded was little more than a sham. He’d been technically kicked out of the Jin sect and refused all offers to rejoin, and it seemed he wasn’t quite ready to scandalize the entire cultivation world by marrying into the Lan sect no matter what Lan Xichen had been hinting. Sometimes he and Lan Wangji spent time at the Lotus Pier with Jiang Cheng, or the Unclean Realm with Nie Huaisang under Nie Mingjue’s long-suffering gaze…everyone called Wei Wuxian the Yiling Patriarch, on account of him ‘founding’ his sect there – or rather, summoning up extra resentful energy from the Burial Mounds for the purposes of obtaining an army while minimizing the number of disturbed graves – but he wasn’t, not really. He didn’t live there or anything.

Who would want to live there?

“I would,” Wei Wuxian agreed, but he didn’t follow it up with teasing or anything the way he usually did.

He just looked very uncharacteristically perturbed.

“What is it?” Jin Zixuan asked. “Can I help?”

“No heroic bullshit,” Wei Wuxian said at once, which meant that there was a possibility of heroic bullshit. Given Wei Wuxian’s personality, that also meant that it was heroic bullshit that would be bad for the Jin sect, which he still felt bad about on account of them raising him and all…in all honesty, it might be a good thing in the long run that Jin Zixuan’s father and mother had been so awful to Wei Wuxian as a kid, and that he’d known it. If they’d been good to him, he never would have been willing to leave. “But, uh, remember Wen Ning?”

Jin Zixuan blinked. Wei Wuxian had told him some stories: a junior disciple of the Wen sect, from a branch family – Dafan Wen – who’d helped Wei Wuxian out a few times when he’d been smuggling the Jiang clan to freedom.

More than a few times: he’d been Wei Wuxian’s first disciple in matters of resentful energy, which Wei Wuxian had apparently been thinking of since forever and started playing around with more or less the moment he was no longer officially tied to a sect, and had been a valuable contact during the early period of the war before events had changed and he’d been lost.

“Yes,” he said. “What about him?”

He hadn’t thought of Wen Ning in ages, beyond abstractly hoping he was doing well. It might be hard, with a surname as he had, but surely there was somewhere in the cultivation world for those surnamed Wen – Wei Wuxian had argued fiercely in favor of leniency for the remaining Wen cultivators, and the Lan sect had backed him, thanks to Lan Wangji. The rest of them had been exhausted, Nie Mingjue, Lan Xichen, Jiang Cheng and his parents, even Jin Zixuan…his father had ended up volunteering their sect to help with resettlement of the refugees, which had been a pleasant surprise.

Sure, Jin Zixuan knew his father well enough to know that he was only doing it for the clout and possible advantage it would give him, but he was pretty sure the Wen civilians didn’t especially care why they were going to get a reprieve from death and a new place to live, only that they did.

“I’ll get there,” Wei Wuxian said. “It’s a bit complicated…you know how Jin Zixun’s in charge of resettlement?”

Jin Zixuan nodded, puzzled. “What about it?”

“You can’t do that!” one of the guards shouted at Wei Wuxian. “We’re disciples of the Jin sect –”

“Is that so,” Jin Zixuan said, and they all turned to look at him, each one of them blanching in utter horror. “And why didn’t I know that my Jin sect had such people as you?”

“Where’s Wen Ning?” Wen Qing asked Wei Wuxian, looking desperate. “I don’t see him…Where is he?!”

“That monster?” one of the guards blurted out.

“My brother is not a monster!”

“He’s been hiding in the woods,” one of the Wen civilians volunteered. “He’s been raiding the camp, rescuing people who are being abused –”

“Our response was reasonable in light of his aggression,” the guard argued. “He used demonic cultivation – he’s a monster! We had no choice –”

“We’re going to need to question them,” Jin Zixuan said to Lan Wangji, who was looking faintly murderous in his usual righteous sort of way. “To find out who’s their backing – Jin Zixun wouldn’t have dared something like this, not on his own. Can you bind them for me?”

It was his father.

Of course.

“A-Yao, what do you want?” Jin Zixuan asked, and Jin Guangyao stopped in his tracks, staring at him in confusion – as well he should, since he’d only come into Jin Zixuan’s study in order to say good morning on his way to breakfast. “No, sorry, that’s not what I meant. I meant, you know, in life.”

Jin Guangayo blinked at him.

Probably not the best question to spring on someone before breakfast, Jin Zixuan reflected.

“It’s about the trouble that my – that our father got into,” Jin Zixuan explained. “The other cultivation sects are furious to no end that he took advantage of their trust in order to do such a disgraceful thing…I’ve ordered Zixun to be confined for now, and I suspect he’ll have to be banished to some country house for a few years. And as you know, my father will be retiring soon and handing over the position of sect leader to me…”

Neither of them especially wanted that to happen, his father as loathe to give up power as Jin Zixuan was to take it. But what other solution was there after such a scandal?

The Lan sect, ever concerned with morality, had been horrified when they’d found out what had happened; the Jiang sect, despite their close relationship to the Jin sect, had immediately denounced it, and Jiang Yanli, who was Wei Wuxian’s friend, was the very first to speak. The Nie sect, never a firm ally for the Jin sect, was growling about righteousness, and if Nie Mingjue was sincere about that being his only concern – and having worked with the man, Jin Zixuan believed he was – then there were plenty of others in the Nie sect that had their eyes on the greater influence and power that would accrue to their sect if Jin Zixuan’s father were allowed to bring his sect down with him.

Handing over power was the only way to make sure their Jin sect remained strong.

“He won’t be alone, at least,” Jin Zixuan sighed. “I won him that much.”

Jiang Fengmian had agreed to step down from his position as sect leader as well, making it seem as though Jin Guangshan’s retirement were voluntary, part of a joint agreement of the older generation handing over power to the newer. Everyone would know in their hearts that that wasn’t the case, but it would be far less shameful than the alternative – saving a little bit of his father’s face.

“You did well,” Jin Guangyao said, listening with a neutral expression. “In uncovering everything, and revealing it.”

“I would’ve brought you in to help, but I couldn’t,” Jin Zixuan explained. “I know he asked you to help in finding demonic cultivators to join the Jin sect, and…”

He hesitated.

“He implicated me?” Jin Guangyao asked.

He had. Their father was shameless: he’d even sought to move all blame to Jin Guangyao’s back, whether as the actual mastermind or, when that was rejected, as the inciter of the scheme. Nonsense, of course.

Anyway, it didn’t matter. Even if Jin Guangyao had suggested it, it would have been his father’s responsibility to refuse.

“No one believes it,” Jin Zixuan said, which was only partially a lie. “Even Chifeng-zun laughed in his face and said you wouldn’t be nearly that stupid.”

Jin Guangyao looked – oddly pleased by that, if Jin Zixuan had to guess.

“Still, it’s awkward,” he said, rubbing his head. “People talk, and our subsidiary sects have never been as quiet as some others…you don’t have to tell me right now what you’re planning, or what you want in the long term. But maybe – uh – you have two sworn brothers. Is there any chance…”

“I could go visit them for a while?”

Jin Zixuan smiled helplessly. “I wish it weren’t necessary. And if you did know what you wanted, I could take it into account when planning the future…”

“No, no,” Jin Guangyao said. “Visiting my sworn brothers will be – fine.” He looked thoughtful. “You said Chifeng-zun didn’t think I was involved?”

“Zewu-jun was also vociferous in your defense,” Jin Zixuan said, trying to elide the fact that it wasn’t so much that Nie Mingjue didn’t think Jin Guangyao was capable of such atrocities, but rather that he declared, and loudly, that if Jin Guangyao had intended to do something horrific like that, he’d have handled it better. Judging by Jin Guangyao’s amused expression, he might have guessed anyway. “I appreciate your understanding.”

Jin Guangyao smiled.

Jin Zixuan thought he might even mean it, this time.

“I’m an uncle!” Wei Wuxian crowed, holding Jin Ling in his arms. “I’m an uncle, I’m an uncle!”

“Big deal,” Jiang Cheng grumbled, which would be more convincing if he wasn’t beaming foolishly. “So am I. Hand him over...hey, A-Ling! It's me, your jiujiu!”

“Can I be an honorary uncle?” Nie Huaisang asked – Jin Zixuan had no idea when he’d even arrived, or why he was here, or anything, really, but that was probably because he hadn’t really slept on account of over-excitement. “I mean, my brother’s sworn brothers with Jin-xiong’s brother, so it works, right?”

“That’s ridiculous –” Jiang Cheng started.

“No, I love it!” Wei Wuxian immediately declared. “That means Lan Zhan’s his uncle, too!”

“Wei Wuxian…!”

“Don’t worry,” Jin Zixuan said, hugging Jiang Cheng out of sheer excitement. “You’re his only jiujiu, right? Everyone else is related through me, so they have to share.”

Jiang Cheng seemed pleased by that, and Wei Wuxian laughed.

Nie Huaisang was calculating on his fingers. “You know,” he said thoughtfully. “This might be the most well-connected baby in the entire cultivation world? The only thing we’re missing is the Wen sect…Jiang-xiong, how about you marry Wen Qing? Then we’d have them all!”

“That is not how I’m determining my marriage!” Jiang Cheng yelped, but notably didn’t reject the idea.

Jin Zixuan looked at Jiang Yanli, who looked back at him, and they both started laughing.

There was more noise after that, and eventually Jin Ling woke up and started crying, making everyone start fussing like a bunch of old hens surrounding a long-suffering Jiang Yanli who’d already grown accustomed to it in a way the rest of them hadn’t.

It suddenly occurred to Jin Zixuan that everyone who was here was here because they wanted to be. Not because of his name or his wealth, not because he was Sect Leader Jin, not because of the circumstances of his birth, but just because they liked him – because they wanted to celebrate with him, and to cherish his child, to share his joy.

It was a good day.

All the days were a little good, but this one was especially good.

#mdzs #jin zixuan #wei wuxian #mianmian #jiang cheng #lan wangji #jin guangyao #jiang yanli #my fic #my fics #right hand man

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connordavidscamera · 3 years

Text

A Jealous Household | Connor Brashier

A/n: listen, I know it says y/n, but we all know it’s written about me, right? Okay, just wanna put that out there lol

Summary: Shawn and Brian want to have a party, but this party causes a few problems for Connor and y/n

Warnings: angst, underage drinking (for US standards, at least), pining

Word count: 7.5k, she’s a long one

***

“You want to have a party? When?” Y/n asks, closing her book and setting it in her lap.

“This weekend,” Shawn nods. “And it won’t be a big thing, I promise. Maybe fifteen, twenty people.”

“Thirty or forty, max,” Brian interjects.

I can’t help but laugh at that, neither can she as she says. “You know we can’t even fit thirty or forty people in the condo, right?”

“I know that, but that’s why we’ll have some of them in the backyard too.”

“So what’s the party even for?” She asks, leaning into my side. On instinct, I wrap my arm around her shoulders.

They both shrug, “A house warming party? Does that still count if we’ve lived here for almost two months?” Shawn questions.

She shrugs, “I don’t know. I mean, I don’t see why we couldn’t have one. We just have to be considerate of our neighbors. And nobody’s allowed in my room. If there’s alcohol, I’m not chancing anyone going into my room for a sloppy fuck.”

Shawn laughs, “So your sloppy fuck is gonna be in Connor’s room then?”

I roll my eyes at the comment. Shawn and Brian love to tease me about my crush on y/n. They have since the beginning. Shawn’s taunts are light hearted, but they’re plentiful now that we all live together. Brian’s at times feel almost malicious. But Brian also isn’t aware that I still have a crush on her, he thinks the feeling has passed. It definitely hasn’t. If anything, being in such tight quarters with her at all times has made me like her even more. Watching her move so effortlessly around our home - seeing her do her nightly routine, watching her polish her nails every Sunday like clockwork. I have undeniably fallen even deeper in love with her in just these few short weeks we’ve lived together and it’s killing me.

It’s killing me because we still haven’t talked about what she said to me a couple weeks ago when we were falling asleep together. I don’t even know if she remembers saying what she did. And I could have misinterpreted her words, I mean, she was falling asleep, her words were slurring. I could have misunderstood. At least, that’s what I’ve been telling myself every time the memory pops into my head. Which is about six times a day for the past three weeks.

Y/n gasps and tosses her book at him, "Asshole!"

He laughs, picking the book up off the floor from where it ricocheted off his chest. "I'm kidding. Kidding. But it's cool?"

She shrugs, "Yeah, whatever. Go nuts."

"Yes!" Shawn pumps his fist in the air before high fiving Brian.

"We gotta get alcohol."

"Ah, wait. Before you two go broke buying drinks for the party, remember that we have bills to pay. So save us all a headache and make it BYOB."

Brian snaps and points at her with a click of his tongue. "This is why we keep you around."

She laughs, "Oh is that why?"

"Indeed," he nods.

"Okay, well can I have my book back, please?"

"Yeah, here," Shawn leans over the coffee table to hand it to her before disappearing to his room, Brian heading to the kitchen.

"What's wrong?" I ask, not looking up from my phone. I can sense that the wheels are turning in her head and she sighs dramatically.

"I don't remember which page I was on."

I force myself not to laugh. "243."

“Hmm?” She flips to that page and looks up at my side profile. “How’d you know that?”

I shrug, “I always memorize the page you’re on before you close the book, just in case.”

She smiles sheepishly and presses a kiss to my shoulder. “You’re cute,” she whispers before turning her attention back to the page in front of her and resting her head in the crook of my neck.

I squeeze her shoulder hoping she doesn’t look up and notice the growing blush on my cheeks, “You’re cuter.”

---

“Do you have any idea who’s coming to this?” Y/n asks as we move a cooler out to the backyard.

I shake my head, “Not really. I think Matt and his girlfriend, honestly, I have no idea. It’s Shawn, so there’s bound to be more people than we’re anticipating.”

“Lots of girls then.”

“Why do you say that?” I ask, setting the cooler down, providing her with my undivided attention (which she has always had).

“He’s making a name for himself out here. Playing a few more gigs than at home. I noticed at the last one, he’s got a few groupies.”

I chuckle, “Oh really?”

She nods, “There were like five girls there just holding onto his every word. It was actually pretty cool to watch. But he got nervous. Started fidgeting with his necklace, so I had to get him out of there, which of course resulted in death glares from his adoring fans.”

“What? What do you mean? Death glares towards you?”

Y/n laughs, fixing the collar of her shirt that’s falling off her shoulder. “Yeah. I think they thought there was more there than there is,” she shrugs, “And if looks could kill, I would be dead five times over.”

I shake my head, I don’t like that thought, and I say as much. “I don’t like that thought.”

“What? Shawn having groupies?”

“No, girls staring daggers at you because you’re friends with him.”

“It’s not a big deal.”

I know it’s not, but the thought of someone not liking her is appalling to me. “I still don’t like it.”

“Is it because if something happened to me you’d be left to live alone with Shawn and Brian? Because that would make me sad too.”

I force a laugh, “That, and I’d be bored without you.”

She nods understandingly, “I get it. I am the light of your life,” she teases.

You are, I think to myself. “Yeah, yeah,” I say instead, stepping forward, wrapping my arm around her waist. “Let’s get inside, it’s hot as hell out here.”

Shawn and Brian are sitting on the floor in front of the TV, trying to get the wifi hooked up to it. We barely got wifi installed at the beginning of the week, but we’ve all been so busy, we haven’t had the chance to get everything hooked up to it.

“It’s not working!” Brian complains, throwing his hands up in frustration.

“Well try again! That’s what the router says.” Shawn counters back.

“Let me see that,” Brian snatches the router out of his hands. “Dumbass! You’re reading me the product number! Not the fucking password!”

Y/n and I hide our faces to keep from bursting into a fit of laughter, but we both break when Shawn pouts when Brian puts the router back in his hands after successfully connecting the TV.

“Oh, what’s with the pouty face, rockstar?” y/n asks.

“Brian’s a dick,” he mutters, which causes Brian to punch his shoulder.

“Ow!” Shawn exclaims, reaching to hold his arm. “That hurt!”

“It was supposed to. Want me to do it again?”

“Craigen,” y/n shakes her head and before I can protest, she’s out of my grasp and I suddenly feel lonely without her body next to mine. “No more fighting.”

“Just one time in the face,” he tries to reason. “Just once. Come on, it’s a long time coming. I’ve wanted to punch him in the face since we were kids.”

“No,” she squats down behind Shawn, wrapping her arms around his shoulders, leaning her head against his. I watch Shawn fall into her touch and I’m envious of him. Even though she holds onto me in the exact same way, almost daily, she isn’t right now and it makes me long for it. Especially when I watch her start to massage his scalp and he hums because her head scratches feel like you’re in heaven. “You can’t punch him in the face. That’s the money maker,” she squishes his cheeks with her free hand and speaks in a mock baby voice, “And if he’s got a black eye how will he charm girls with his pretty face tonight?”

Shawn laughs and pushes her hand away, but he reaches back and pats her calf. “Sit down,” he says and she obliges, her legs spreading and bracketing Shawn’s. He falls back into her and takes her hand that was just squeezing him and brings it to his lips to kiss her knuckles before bringing it to his hair as well. “More head scratches.”

She rolls her eyes, but continues anyway. “So fucking needy.”

He hums, “Could fall asleep like this.”

She hums too and looks up at me with a smile that melts my heart, “Connor does all the time.”

I nod, “I do. Feels good. Your hands are magic.”

“How magic? Like you could get me off in three seconds?”

“Brian!” I growl. Yep, we can always count on him to ruin the mood.

But y/n’s laughing, “I’m sure I could, I mean, if you ask your first girlfriend, you only last five so I don’t think it’ll be difficult,” she answers.

Shawn’s hysterical in y/n’s arms, as am I as I fall to the floor, clutching my stomach. But Brian? Brian is livid.

“I can’t believe she told you that! She said she wouldn’t tell anyone!”

This only makes Shawn and I laugh harder. “Wait, did that actually happen?” I ask between fits. “Craigen, come on,” I groan when he’s silent. “Five seconds?”

“It was our first time!”

“And last, apparently,” y/n comments.

“Shut up!” he groans. “Fuck, I can’t stand you.”

She nods, “I know.”

“No, but seriously, when did she tell you that?”

Y/n breaks out into a wide grin. “She didn’t. But you just did. Thanks for that.”

He’s speechless. Absolutely speechless. And his face is so red; I don’t know if it’s in anger or embarrassment, but either way, Shawn pipes up. “Hey, if it makes you feel any better, my first time I only lasted like twenty seconds.”

“I lasted fifteen,” I confirm, but I immediately regret it when y/n’s face morphs into one of confusion.

Oh, oh fuck. I never told her that I-

“Wait, you’ve had sex?”

“You didn’t know?” Shawn questions, looking back at her.

She shakes her head, “I guess not.”

I sigh and scratch the back of my head, “Yeah. It was… during that time where we weren’t really talking,” I mumble.

She nods slowly, scoffing, and I can’t quite pin her emotion, but it’s definitely a cross between anger and… is that jealousy? “Ah, good ol’ McKenzie,” she mutters under her breath. She exhales deeply out her nose and focuses her attention back to playing with Shawn’s hair.

“I would have told-”

“We weren’t talking. I know,” she cuts me off. “And it’s none of my business. It wasn’t then, and it’s not now either.”

“Oh, right. Okay,” I nod once. “New subject.”

---

We’re tiptoeing around each other the rest of the day. Or more so, I’m tiptoeing around her. She somehow is coming off as completely unbothered, but at the same time completely bothered. I don’t know what to make of this situation. I don’t know if I should apologize for not telling her, or if she even wants me to apologize. I don’t know and it’s killing me not knowing what I can do to make this better for us tonight.

I’m helping Brian pour more ice into the cooler we have in the kitchen when she walks out of her room. “Where’s Shawn?” she asks.

I look up at her and my heart stops for a moment. She’s wearing red, my heart never knows what to do when she wears that color. Does it stop? Does it speed up? Yes.

“He went to his car to get the beer we got this afternoon,” Brian answers, closing the lid.

SHe nods, “I’ll go help him.”

I watch as she leaves, not taking a full breath until the door shuts behind her.

“She still mad at you?”

I shake my head, “I don’t know. I don’t even know if she is mad at me.”

“Well, it’s y/n. You kept something from her for almost three years. I’m willing to bet she’s a little upset.”

I sigh, “Yeah, I know. But I mean, how was I supposed to tell her. She would barely even look at me during that time, so -”

“Yeah, because McKenzie was a bitch to her. How was she supposed to look at you when she was practically threatened or called out or god know what when you weren’t listening. I’d hate to know what she actually said when none of us were there to listen.”

I exhale deeply. I know my ex was the worst to her - she’s the entire reason y/n and I weren’t talking. She told me not to hang out with her as much, so I didn’t (also because I was trying to prove to Brian that I didn’t have feelings for y/n anymore. That was a mistake.) “So, I should apologize.”

Brian shrugs, “We all know you’re gonna apologize. You can’t stand it when she’s mad at you. Honestly, we can’t either. We have no idea what to do when you two aren’t talking. And since we all live together now, it’ll be even more awkward for you two to not talk.”

I nod, “Yeah. I know. I’ll apologize later. You should go get ready. I can finish up out here.”

Brian claps my shoulder, “Thanks, man. I’ll be quick.” He disappears at the same time Shawn and y/n walk in the front door with the drinks. I make my way over to them.

“Here, let me get that for you,” I tell her, reaching to take the cases from her hands.

“Oh, it’s okay. I got it. You want these inside or out, rockstar?”

“In the fridge, in the back. Gotta keep the good stuff for us.” Shawn hands me a pottle of vodka, “Put this in the freezer? I got it for y/n, I’m gonna make her a new drink.”

“You’re gonna risk giving her alcohol poisoning?” I question, raising one eyebrow at him.

He rolls his eyes, “I’ve gotten better at making drinks, dickhead.”

I laugh and hold my hands up in surrender, “Alright, sure.”

“I’m gonna put these in my room for now, and then I’m gonna get ready.”

“Brian’s in the shower, you can use my bathroom,” I say as y/n moves past us to the kitchen.

“Good looking out, thanks.”

And now it’s just me and her. It’s like any normal day. So why is my heart beating so quickly?

I watch her move some things around in the fridge to make room for the drinks, and I can’t help but smile. “You look pretty tonight,” I tell her, leaning against the counter.

She looks over at me and smiles softly, “Thanks.”

I clear my throat, “Hey, y/n?”

“Hmm?” she turns her attention back to her task at hand.

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?” she asks, closing the fridge.

“For not telling you that I slept with her.”

“Oh,” she nods. “It’s fine. It really is not any of my business who you have and haven’t slept with.”

“Well maybe not, but you are my best friend, and we tell each other everything. I know if we were on better terms when you were dating Noah, you would have told me that you-”

“I didn’t tell you because we didn’t sleep together.”

“What?” I stare at her with wide eyes.

“Noah and I didn’t sleep together.”

“But I thought-”

“You assumed. But no, it didn’t happen. I wasn’t ready. I mean, I barely let him kiss me, so how the hell was I gonna sleep with him?”

I nod because I don’t know what else to do or even say. She’s right, I just assumed that they had sex because he always had his hands all over her. I almost scoff at the thought. I hated watching him hold her in the hallway, his hands in her back pockets as he pulled her closer to him. Seeing them together everyday made my heart clench every time because it should have been me. I wonder if that’s how she felt when I had a girlfriend.

“Look, it doesn’t matter, okay? So, let’s just drop it. It’s not like I’m mad you had sex, I was just surprised to find out this way, that’s all.”

“Yeah, I get it. And I would have told you sooner, but there really was never a time, you know? And it was just with her a couple times, nothing since.”

“Connor, you really don’t need to explain it to me. Actually, if we could just stop talking about her all together, that’d be great.”

“No, yeah. Of course. It’s dropped.”

She nods, “Okay, good. So, you should go get dressed.”

“What do you mean? I’m wearing this,” I gesture to my torn t-shirt and my sweatpants with paint stains up and down the legs from when we painted the living room a few weeks ago. I’m totally joking, but I want to see her reaction anyway.

She looks me up and down and scoffs, “Yeah, no. Go change. You’re not wearing that.”

I pout dramatically, “Why not?”

“One, those pants are a mess. Two, you know you run hot when you drink, so why would you wear sweatpants? And three, that shirt is literally falling apart. You are not wearing that, go change.”

I can’t fight the smile that tugs at my lips because just like that we’re back to normal. “Okay, I’m going. Do you have something you’d like for me to wear?”

“Yes, your black pants with the white tank top and your peachy cream shirt. The one you wore for our graduation party.”

I nod, “Yes, ma’am. You wanna do my hair?”

“Come find me when you’re done, and I’ll see what I can do.”

---

I’m talking to my friend Will out in the backyard as the party becomes bigger than anticipated. Yeah, definitely called that situation.

“Bro, I wish I would have saved up more so I could have gotten a place like you guys did. I emailed my roommate last week to see what he wanted to get for the dorm and he straight up said, ‘I don’t plan to be roommates long, so nothing.’”

I can’t help but laugh, “Hey, we’d take you in over Brian, but he’d throw a bitch fit.”

He laughs too, twisting the cap off his beer. “So what’s it like living with y/n? Everything good?”

“Yeah, everything’s great. She knows how to run a household. She made a chore chart that goes on the fridge. Shawn had to beg her to take it down for the party because he was embarrassed.”

“Sounds like y/n. But that’s not what I meant.”

I take a swig of my beer and shrug, “There’s nothing else to say really. She’s nice to live with.”

“No progression between you two.”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Right, right. Because you’re not in love with her, right.”

“Will, come on. Not tonight.”

“Okay, okay. I get it. We’re not in a teasing mood tonight.”

Or ever. Will is a great friend of mine, and I would take a bullet for him, but he asks me for y/n updates every time we’re together, and I never have any for him. When I told him we were moving in together, he was stoked, but less so when I told him we were moving with Shawn and Brian too.

He - like Shawn - is an avid supporter of us getting together. Will found out about my so-called crush one night in high school, actually a couple weeks after my breakup with McKenzie. Y/n and I still weren’t talking. I was trying to mend things and she was trying to push me further away. I don’t remember much of the night he found out because I got shit faced drunk, but I somehow admitted to him that I had feelings for her and he’s convinced himself that he knows the biggest secret in the world. He treats it like he holds the key to the universe. If anyone wants us together more than I do, it’s him.

“Just don’t want to risk her hearing anything,” I tell him. “I already made things awkward earlier.”

“What? How?”

I shake my head, “Let it slip that Kenz and I slept together.”

He blanches. “She didn’t know?!”

I shake my head, “No. I never found the right time to tell her. But she keeps saying it isn’t her business, so I don’t know if that means she’s hurt by it or if I’m imagining it because right now it seems like she doesn’t really care. But - I don’t know, I want her to, I guess.”

He smirks, “She cares.”

“I don’t know,” I mutter, looking inside, lifting my bottle up to my lips, but halting when I see her standing near the sliding glass door with - “Oh, you have got to be fucking kidding me.”

“What?” Will asks, turning toward the door. “What hap - is that? Wait, is that Noah? What is he doing here?”

My jaw clenches, just like the grip around the bottle in my hand. “Better question, why the hell is he so close to her?”

Will sucks in a breath, “Are they still friends?”

I don’t answer him because I don’t know. I’m 99% sure they aren’t, but that 1% that says yes is simply because I’m watching them right now and she’s hugging him and letting him kiss her cheek before he pulls away. “I didn’t think they were. She hasn’t brought him up since the breakup.”

I don’t take my eyes off them as I start chugging the rest of my beer. It was still pretty full, but at this moment, I need to finish it because I need something stronger.

“I’m gonna go get a drink,” I mutter, tossing my bottle in the trashcan near the cooler. I walk inside, but neither of them notice me. I shake my head and walk to Shawn’s room where he hid most of the hard stuff. I find the bottle of tequila that he stashed because he knew if he put it out, it’d go fast. I twist the top off and take, maybe a little more than a shot. I cough into my elbow when I pull the bottle back because wow he got the strong stuff.

Shaking my head, I close the bottle back up and sneak out of Shawn’s room. When I enter the living room, they’re still standing there talking. Or, he’s talking, she’s nodding at something he’s saying. I click my tongue and walk into the kitchen to grab another beer. SHould I be mixing my alcohol? No, I should not. Is that going to stop me? No, it is not.

My girl’s ex-boyfriend is over there talking to her and touching her like they’re best buds and I can’t stand it. I can’t stand him.

I still remember the day she told us that she was going on a date with him.

All four of us are sitting in our usual booth at the diner, everything seems to be going like it always has. Just us four, laughing and making our weekend plans. The difference though is that y/n and I aren’t sitting shoulder to shoulder right now. She’s pushed against the window, and I’m toward about as far left as I can get without it being noticeable, or falling.

“So, we’re aiming for Saturday afternoon, right? Y/n, you’ll ride with me?” Shawn asks.

“Oh,” she sits up straight, “um, could we maybe do it on Sunday instead? I kind of already have plans on Saturday.”

“What?” Brian furrows his brows, “Without us?”

She nods, “Yeah,” she takes in a sharp breath beside me. “I um… I kinda, I have a date.”

At that exact moment, our heads whip in her direction - I’m pretty sure if I turned any faster I would have given myself whiplash.

“A date?” I ask as calmly as I can.

“With who?” Shawn questions.

She shrugs, “You know that guy Noah? I have him in like all of my AP classes? He asked me out after class this morning.”

I don’t think I can clench my jaw any harder. Noah. I hate him. I’ve never personally met him, but I hate him. “Cool,” I mutter, turning my head back to the table to reach for my drink.

“Well?” Shawn prompts. “What are you gonna do? Where is he taking you?”

She clasps her hands in her lap and shrugs again. “I don’t know. He hasn’t told me. Said he wanted it to be a surprise.”

“Ooh, romantic,” Brian teases.

“You hate surprises,” I mumble into my cup.

Y/n clears her throat and shifts uncomfortably in her seat. “It’s just one date. Not a big deal.”

“Okay, sure,” Brian says. “So Sunday then?”

“And you’ll tell us all about it?”

“Sure.”

There are very few times that I wish I was deaf, but that day was one of them. I didn’t sleep that whole night. I couldn’t. And the night of her date? Forget it. I was up all night wondering what was happening. Did he hold her hand? Did he hug her? Did that bastard take her first kiss? The first kiss that was supposed to belong to me?

And right now, as I watch him reach for her elbow again, I decide, fuck it. I don’t care if I look like a jealous asshole, I’m taking my girl away from him. I stride over to them and place my hand on her hip, “Hey, baby. Can you help me find the bottle opener? I can’t remember what drawer you put it in the other day, and I think my eyes are failing me.”

She shakes her head, “Um, yeah. It should be in the drawer closest to the fridge.”

“I checked there, please, come help me look.”

She rolls her eyes and turns back to Noah who is staring daggers at my hand on her hip. I smirk. “Noah, it was good catching up with you. I’ll find you later. I’m gonna help him out.”

He looks back up at her and forces a smile, “Sure. Sounds good. Save me dance?”

Over my dead body. “Come on, baby,” I say, guiding her toward the kitchen.

She steps in front of me, mumbling a couple excuse me’s to the people blocking the kitchen. Then she b-line’s to the drawer closer to the fridge, which I definitely did not check because I wasn’t really looking for the bottle opener. I just needed an excuse to get her away from Noah.

“Here,” she holds it out to me. “Wait, I thought Shawn got twist tops.” She takes the bottle from my hand and laughs, “Bub, it twists off.” She says, taking the cap off the bottle.

“Oh,” I chuckle. I knew it was a twist top, again, I just needed an excuse to get her away. “Whoopsies?”

She puts the bottle opener back in the drawer and leans against the counter. “You having fun?”

I shrug, “I’m alright. So um… Noah’s here.”

Y/n nods slowly, “Yeah, he is.”

“Kinda weird that he showed up after we just talked about him,” I mutter.

“Yeah, I guess. He just tagged along with one of his friends.”

I nod, “Mhm. You two looked pretty cozy.”

“Excuse me?”

“Nothing. Just, I mean, I haven’t heard you talk about him since the breakup,” I take a sip of the beer in my hand. “I didn’t realize you two were still so close.”

She tilts her head at me, “We’re not. We were just catching up. He didn’t know that I lived here too.”

“Uh-huh, so you haven’t talked to him recently?”

She scoffs, crossing her arms over her chest. “What’s with the third degree, huh?”

“You didn’t answer my question,” I mutter.

“No, Connor. I haven’t talked to him recently. In fact, I haven’t talked to him since the breakup. But what does that matter? Why does it matter who I do and do not talk to?”

“I just think it’s a little strange that he came here tonight.”

“Well, I didn’t invite him, if that’s what you’re insinuating. He came with a friend. He didn’t even know it was our party, or our house. He just showed up.”

“So he crashed it. Classy.”

“What is your deal?” She pushes herself off the counter and stands face to face with me, her forehead creasing as she glares at me. I want to smooth the crease and tell her not to do that because she’ll get a headache, but I refrain.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Please,” she scoffs, “you’re acting like a jealous boyfriend! Newsflash, Connor, you’re not my boyfriend.”

I recoil, because sure I know I’m not, but the words spew from her lips like venom. “I know that.”

“Do you? Because right now it doesn’t seem like you do. Now unless I completely missed the part where you asked me to be your girlfriend, you have no right to be upset over me talking to my ex-boyfriend.”

“He was an ass to you then.”

“How would you know?! We weren’t even talking then.”

“Because you didn’t want to! I was still trying to fix things with us but you were pushing me away.”

“No, I wasn’t pushing you away. I was protecting myself from getting hurt again.”

“But it wasn’t me, that was Kenzie, and -”

She groans in frustration, “Why are we talking about her again? Why? I can’t do this.”

“Do what?”

Y/n pinches the bridge of her nose. “Look, you’re my best friend, and I love you. But you have no right to be upset about Noah. You are not my boyfriend -”

“Why do you keep saying that?”

“Because you aren’t! You like to act like you are sometimes, but you’re not.”

“Do you want me to be?!” I exclaim, setting my bottle down.

She scoffs, shaking her head. “Not like this,” she says quietly, pushing past me.

“Y/n!” I call after her, but she ignores me. I, however, can’t ignore the eyes that are on me.

---

“He’s jealous?” Alessia asks, leaning back on her hands. We’re sitting on the grass in the backyard. It’s quieter out here, and far less crowded. “Does he even have a right to be?”

“That’s what I’m saying! He’s my best friend, but sometimes he acts like he’s my boyfriend and I just - I’m over it.��

She sighs, “You’re over him acting like your boyfriend.”

“Yes,” I say.

“Because you want him to actually be your boyfriend.”

“What? No! No,” I shake my head, “that’s not it.”

Les smiles, “Honey, it’s obvious the way you two look at each other. And you can deny it because you’re best friends, you live together. You don’t want to risk the integrity of the friendship that you have. And that is totally reasonable, but you two need to discuss what you are to each other. Because it’s clear that in his mind, you’re a little bit more than just ‘best friends.’ And well, you’ve always wanted to be more, so what’s so wrong with him being that?”

I sigh and pick at the grass beside me, “I don’t know if he feels this way genuinely or if it’s because I’m closer now. We live together, it seems almost easy or convenient for him to develop some tiny crush because of the proximity.”

At this she laughs, “Oh, honey. That is definitely not it.”

“How do you know?”

“Because that boy has been in love with you since before I even met you guys. It’s written all over his face and if you took a second to just stop and -”

“Hey, sorry to interrupt, guys,” Shawn says, breathlessly, pushing his curls out of his face. “Y/n, Connor’s drunk off his ass, and I need your help”

I sit up, “Okay, How much did he drink?”

“Like, the entire bottle of tequila I had in my room, plus however many beers he had.”

I stand up, swatting at the backs of my legs to get off any dirt, “Is he throwing up?”

“No, he’s just asking for you.”

I nod and look back to Alessia, “We’ll talk later, Les?”

“Mhm, go take care of your boy.”

“Why did he drink so much?” I ask Shawn, following him toward the sliding glass door.

He shrugs, “I asked him. He said you were mad at him.”

I roll my eyes, “Well yeah, he was being an ass. But it still doesn’t make sense.If he drinks every time I get upset with him, he’d be an alcoholic ”

“All I know is that he was asking for you,” Shawn says just as we find Connor sitting outside my bedroom door, nursing another beer bottle.

I shake my head, “God, he knows not to be switching between alcohol.”

“Connor, buddy?” Shawn says, squatting down next to him. “I got her. Why don’t you give me that beer, eh?” He goes to take it from his hands, but Connor’s quick to move it, spilling a bit of it on his shirt in the process.

“No, this is mine. Get your own,” he slurs

I sigh and squat down next to him, too. “I think you’ve had enough, bub. Come on, let me have it.”

He looks at me with heavy eyes and he pouts, dramatically. “Y/n… you’re so pretty.”

“Connor,” I shake my head.

“I love you in red. God, you look so good. Could never get,” he hiccups, “tired of looking at you.”

I blush, looking over at Shawn who’s still sitting with us. “Okay, come on. Let’s get up. We need to get you to bed.”

He nods slowly, “Whatever you want, baby.”

I take the drink out of his hand and set on the floor beside us. “Shawn, help me get him up.”

Shawn nods, “You got it.” He does most of the heavy lifting, but when Connor’s on his feet, he leans into me, hugging my waist, burying his head in my neck.

“I’m so sorry, y/n. So sorry.”

“I know, come on now. We’re going to your room.”

He groans into my skin, but helps me and Shawn take him to his room as best as he can, only stumbling once when we round the corner. We push his bedroom door open and walk further into the room, plopping him down on the bed.

“Thanks, Shawn. I got it from here.”

“You sure?”

I nod, moving to grab his trash can from next to his desk. “Yeah, we’re good. Thanks for coming to get me.”

He nods, “Of course. Come get me if you need anything else.”

Connor groans as Shawn slams the door shut behind him. I sigh and move around the room, turning on his bedside lamp and going to his desk chair where his outfit from earlier is laid out. “Okay, bub, I’m gonna need you to help me out, alright? I need you to get out of your clothes, I’m gonna put you in pajamas, okay?”

He shakes his head, his pout even heavier than usual, eyes struggling to stay open. “Too tired. You do it.”

I close my eyes, taking in a deep breath. Of course he’s gonna be difficult right now. I shake my head, throwing his clothes beside him, “Can you stand up?”

He mumbles something incoherent, but I’m pretty sure it’s somewhere along the lines of “The room is spinning.”

“Fuck, Connor, why did you drink so much?” I grumble, moving to the floor to take his shoes off.

“You’re mad at me,” he whines.

“Yes, I am. You know your limits. What were you gonna do if this didn’t happen at the house, hmm?”

“M’sorry.”

I roll my eyes, “Okay, sit up,” I reach for his hands to help pull him to a sitting position.

He makes an unnecessary amount of groaning sounds as he moves around to accommodate me.

I push his shirt off his shoulders, it’s almost damp, he’s sweating so much. I throw it to the side, I’ll put it in the laundry room when I go get him some pain meds in a little bit. I take hold of the hem of his tank top, “Arms up,” I pat his side and he obliges, looking up at me with a sad smile on his lips. “What’s wrong?” I ask him, tossing his tank top off to the side too.

“I’m sorry I got mad earlier. About Noah.”

I shake my head, “It’s fine. Lay back, lift your hips for me.”

He lays back, but his pout still remains on his face as I lean forward to unbutton his pants.

“What now?” I question softly, pulling down his zipper, “Hips up.”

He’s looking at me with such sad eyes and it’s killing me. “This isn’t how I wanted you to undress me for the first time.”

My breath hitches, “What?”

“Wanna make love to you,” he slurs.

I almost choke on his words, “Connor, you’re drunk,” I shake my head, pulling his pants off him and grabbing his sweats to pull up his legs instead. I decide to forgo the shirt because he’s already sweating a lot, I don't want to make him even hotter. “You don’t know what you’re saying. I’m gonna go get you some water and pain meds. Stay here.” I move the trash can closer to him, “The trash is right next to you if you feel like you’re gonna get sick.

I pick up his discarded clothes from the floor and walk to the door and out the room before he can say anything else he doesn’t mean. After tossing them in the hamper in the laundry room, I squeeze past the group of people still congregating in the hallway. I slip into my room and grab some of my pain meds from my book bag and quickly slip out again to head to the kitchen which is also crowded. I mumble out a general excuse me, and go to the fridge to grab Connor a bottle of water.

On my way back, I stop and go to his bathroom which is thankfully empty, and grab a hand towel and wet it under the faucet to hopefully cool him down a bit. When I’m back in his room, he’s laying face down on his bed and I stop for a minute, admiring his smooth skin, and the way the muscles in his shoulders tense up when he moves his arm above his head. It’s not fair. No one man should look this good.

I shake my head, focusing back on the task at hand. I close the door behind me gently. “Okay, Connor. I need you to sit up just one more time to take these pills and then you can go to bed, yeah?”

He groans, “I think I drank too much, baby,” he mumbles, pushing himself up and I'm once again in awe of how his muscles move with him.

I scratch at my scalp and nod, holding out the pills for him. “Yeah, I think you did, too.” He takes them in his hand and I sit next to him, uncapping the water bottle before handing it to him as well.

“Thank you,” he hiccups.

“You’re welcome.” I look down at my hands as he takes the pills. He goes to hand me the water bottle back but I shake my head, “You need to drink it all. We’re trying to avoid a hangover.”

He just holds the bottle in his lap, not moving to drink anymore of it, so I look back up at him only to find him already staring at me.

“You okay?” I ask.

He hums and reaches forward. He runs his thumb under my eye, “You got an eyelash. I got it,” he mumbles, but he keeps his hand cradling the side of my face.

My eyes search his tired ones, they’re glossed over, but they always get that way when he drinks, making his eyes seem just a little more blue than green.

“Have I told you tonight that you look pretty?” he asks quietly.

“Multiple times,” I confirm.

“Good, because you are… so, so pretty.”

I lick my lips and watch his eyes move from my eyes to my lips and back. I take in a shallow breath as he starts to lean closer. His eyes closed as his face inches toward mine. I push him back gently just before his lips have the chance to connect with mine, and I mean just before because I could feel his breath against my mouth. “What are you doing?” I question.

“I was… I was trying to kiss you. Did you, I thought you wanted to - when we were laying in bed a couple weeks ago, you said you wanted me to kiss you.”

“Well, I… Connor,” I shake my head. I didn’t think he heard me when I said that. “Not like this. Not tonight. Not when you’re drunk and not thinking clearly.” I stand up, pacing slowly in front of him. “If you’re gonna kiss me, I want you to be sober, and to actually want to do it. Not just because we got in a fight earlier. I don’t want this to be something you do now and then completely forget about or ignore, or fuck, even worse, regret in the morning. I don’t want that. I don’t deserve that. I don’t deserve to be led on by you again.”

“Again?” He asks, tilting his head at me.

“Nevermind. I should go back out there, start cleaning up so it’s not so much tomorrow.”

“Wait, y/n, please. Stay here, please. Stay with me tonight.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“I won’t try anything, I promise. Please, just stay?”

I sigh, “Just until you fall asleep.”

---

It’s nearing eleven in the morning when Shawn finally retreats from his room. He’s not nearly as hungover as I bet the other boys are going to be. If he’s even hungover at all, he doesn’t seem to be.

He leans against the counter, watching me pull my second batch of cookies from the oven. “You’re stress baking,” he observes.

I scoff, “I made muffins too,” I nod in the direction of the counter in front of him where a plate of blueberry muffins sits.

“Ooh,” he reaches forward and takes one, “Not that I like when you’re stressed, but this my favorite of your coping mechanisms.”

“For purely selfish, I presume.”

“Of course,” he says around a mouthful of muffin. “So,” he says after he swallows. “Does this sudden urge to bake have anything to do with what happened last night with Connor?”

I tense up at the memory of Connor leaning in to kiss me. Me pushing him away. “Maybe.”

“So what did happen after I left you two?”

“Nothing,” I shake my head.

“Well, the glorious smell of our kitchen and the spotless living room say otherwise.”

I close my eyes and rub my hands over my face. “He, god, he tried to kiss me.”

“What?” Shawn chokes.

“Shh! You’ll wake them.”

“Oh please, Brain will be asleep until five. Nothing will wake him. He kissed you?! Well, how was it?”

“I said he tried. As in, I didn’t let him. I pushed him away before he could.”

“Why? Don’t you want him to?”

“Of course! But not like that! Not when he’s drunk and not himself. WHen he’s saying stupid things like he wants to make love to me, and that he wishes I was undressing him for the first time under different circumstances.”

“What? He said all of that?! Oh my god! Go, Connor!”

“No, not go Connor. Because he’s not going to remember any of this when he wakes up and I’m going to remember everything and have to pretend that he didn’t say anything or try to kiss me. And I’m stuck being led on once again, except this time he lives just down the hall and I have to see him everyday.”

Shawn sighs, “Okay, you’re right. So, what are you going to do?”

“Same thing I always do.”

He nods, “I’ll get my guitar.”

***

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shy-himb0 · 2 years

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June 5. I always remember I have an Instagram account on June 5th. Every year I am tagged in a number of posts by my mom, siblings, aunts and uncles, cousins, and others who are trying in their way to wish me well on the anniversary of the day my dad died. It’s a weird reminder from an app that I hate that I have.

He was dead months before his heart finally stopped. I guess it should mean more to me that it was the last part of him to give out. That thought is a proper memento of what he meant to other people. I knew it too, but my fear of him, of being misunderstood by him, kept me from feeling it. What a terrible thing for life to do. He deserves better from me. And so I offer a few words in an attempt for atonement.

The BFG. Goliath. Andre. The Jolly Green. Paul Bunyan. The Rock Biter from The Neverending Story. Clifford the Big Red Dog. The Staypuff Marshmallow Man from Ghostbusters. Jordan and Pippen and Malone and Magic and Bird and all those basketball giants. My childhood was full of giants.

My favorite giant came to my class once. I was in third grade. I was in another new school. Another first day as the new kid. It was like that every year so far. We were always on the move. I was sitting next to my new best friend Josh. Josh had a twin brother named Jeremy. They were the coolest kids in the school, and because I could throw a ball pretty good, they immediately accepted me as one of them. It’s such a proud feeling, being accepted. You feel lucky for it. How does it happen? I don’t remember. I’ve since lost that ability.

I wasn’t paying attention that morning. I was probably reading a book. It’s what I did anytime the teacher wasn’t talking to the class. I heard a lot of commotion though. Someone had come to the door of the classroom. Josh was tugging at my shirt and asking me if the guy at the door was my dad. I looked up, surprised. Dad never came to school! I was worried I was in trouble, but everyone was so excited. I nodded to Josh, and he yelped out “You’re dad is a giant!” My very own giant had come to bring me the sack lunch that my mom had prepared that morning. I must have left it behind. I was lucky that my giant was so good to me.

My dad had giant hands. They were so big and meaty. I always wondered how they got so big. Strong too. I remember when I was a teen, trying to test my strength against his during handshakes. We would both squeeze as hard as we could. Well, I would anyway. I think he always held back. He used those hands his whole life to make wonderful things. He made puppets for my grandma who was a puppeteer. He made little wood carvings of people or animals to give to my sisters. He used his hands to mold a slain Mercutio when I was stumped on a class project for Romeo and Juliet.

He had a giant laugh. When he giggled, it was like that of a little (giant) girl. You couldn’t hear it and not feel better. I tried. I’d be mad or sad and hear it and I’d want to get annoyed...but I couldn’t. People tell me I laugh like him when I laugh hard. I haven’t been told that for quite some time.

I remember when my son was a baby. He was inconsolable unless he was on the move - either being bounced around while I was walking, or being swung in his carseat by me. No other swing would work. And no one else had the patience or strength to keep him swinging. Anytime I sat down, even in a rocking chair to keep the movement going, he would immediately begin screaming again. I got really good at being able to lean my head against a wall to swing him. I could almost sleep like that. I think I somehow did a few times. New parents can sleep in the most amazing ways. I remember often dreaming of getting into a huge carseat of my own, to be picked up and swung by some giant.

I wonder what I would do if I could have a few minutes with my dad again. There’s only one thing that ever seems like the right answer. I wish I could go back to third grade. Back when my dad was a giant to me. I just want to be a little kid held in the arms of my warm and gentle giant.

I still miss you Dad. As much as ever.

#personal

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helloalycia · 3 years

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teenage dirtbag [five] // wanda maximoff

summary: spending the afternoon with the Maximoff twins proved to be interesting... and prom night finally arrives!

warning/s: none.

author's note: here’s the final part to this mini series! i’m so glad you all enjoyed it and i appreciate every note i get, thank you 😊♥️ i’ve still got other wanda stuff in the works that will be posted soon, so stay tuned!

After a few tries and encouragement from Pietro, I managed to win the black cat plush toy for Wanda. It was strange, her brother wanting me to make a move on her, but I guess it reassured me a bit to know he thought I was actually good enough for her.

The two of us headed to the diner next door to find Y/BF/N and the other Maximoff twin, myself hiding the plush toy behind my back.

"Finally, you two took forever!" Y/BF/N exclaimed when he saw us approaching their table.

"Y/N here is one stubborn girl with that machine," Pietro explained with a smile as we took our seats. His eyes fell to the drink in front of him. "Oh, you ordered!"

"Just the drinks," Y/BF/N said, before looking to me as I slid in beside him in the booth. "I got you a Cherry Coke. Your favourite."

I smiled gratefully. "Thanks."

"So, what d'you win?" he asked, quirking a brow.

Feeling the heat rising up my neck, I looked to Wanda who was sat opposite Y/BF/N. She was leaning on her hand as she stared at me with a kind smile on her lips.

"You said you wanted the black cat," I said nervously, before holding it out to her. "Here."

Taken aback, she raised her eyebrows but accepted the gift. "Aww, Y/N... you didn't have to!"

I shrugged, smiling awkwardly.

She grinned, studying the toy before looking up at me with sparkling hazel eyes. "I love it. Thank you."

Nodding, I glanced at Pietro who was grinning with pride before me. I could feel Y/BF/N staring at me and when I looked his way, he was smirking and wiggling his eyebrows knowingly. Rolling my eyes, I focused my attention on the menu to distract myself.

"So... what shall we order?" I asked, hoping to change the subject.

After relaying our order to the waitress, Pietro was the first to speak up.

"Okay, I have to ask," he began, leaning forward slightly as he looked between Y/BF/N and I. "Are you guys dating?"

I almost choked on my drink as I looked over my glass to see him grinning cheekily. He knew full well that Y/BF/N and I were only friends, so what was he playing at?

"Definitely not," Y/BF/N answered with a chuckle. Y/N here is practically my sister."

"Exactly," I added, giving Pietro a look that basically said I'm going to murder you. "He's been my best friend since we were kids."

"So there's never been feelings there?" Pietro continued to question curiously, leaning back in his seat.

Wanda slapped his arm gently. "Leave them alone, Piet."

"Never," Y/BF/N answered for us both. "Like I said, she's my annoying little sister."

I quirked a brow and looked to him. "Little? I think I'd be the older sister in this fake sibling relationship,"

"But I'm a month older than you," he stated like that was explanation enough.

"But you act like a child," I retorted. "I'd be the older one."

He rolled his eyes, though a smile was playing on his lips. "Yeah, yeah, whatever you say."

I rolled my eyes, too, before looking back to the twins. Wanda was smiling as she sipped her drink and Pietro had a mischievous glint in his eyes as he looked to me. What the hell was he thinking?

"So you're not interested in Y/BF/N," he thought aloud. "And you definitely weren't interested in me..."

"You made a move on Y/N?" Wanda asked suddenly, looking to her brother with knitted brows.

I breathed out through my nose, eyes falling to the table with embarrassment.

"Yeah, but she made it clear she didn't like me," Pietro said with a shrug, before looking to me again. "So who do you like then? Or is their a girlfriend we don't know about?"

Looking up, I saw three sets of eyes on me and I suddenly felt nervous. Y/BF/N and Pietro were watching with amusement dancing in their eyes as Wanda chewed her lip curiously, awaiting an answer.

"You know there's nobody, Pietro," I said through a forced smile as I looked to him.

His cheeky smile was still present as he said. "Really? I thought you mentioned someone back then. Whilst we were playing in the arcade."

Oh, boy, was he going to die.

"You misunderstood," I played along, before kicking him in the shin to shut him the hell up.

Of course, it was just my luck that the leg in front of me was actually Wanda's. She squeaked an 'ow' as she bent down to rub her leg.

"What was that?" she asked with confusion.

Pietro must have pitied me, having put me on the spot enough in the past two minutes, as he looked to his sister with an apologetic smile. "My bad, Wands. My foot just twitched."

I breathed out with relief as Pietro looked to me, trying not to laugh. He was lucky we were with company otherwise I would have killed him there and then.

—

I wasn't expecting to be hanging out with the Maximoff twins on a Saturday afternoon, but by the time dinner came to an end, I realised how much I enjoyed the day. And I think I could say the same for Y/BF/N, too.

The rest of our meal was pretty uneventful after Pietro's initial teasing, to my relief, and Pietro eventually quit it with the overt hints towards his sister. The last thing I wanted was for Wanda to feel uncomfortable, so I was glad he eventually cut it out.

At the end of the meal, Pietro and Y/BF/N offered to split the bill between them – something about chivalry not being dead, I don't know, all I knew was Wanda and I were getting a free meal so why complain? – and headed to the till to pay, leaving Wanda and I alone.

She was hugging her new black cat plushie on her lap adorably, making me smile.

"Aren't black cats supposed to be bad luck or something?" I asked, earning her attention.

She put her arm on the back of her seat, leaning her head on her hand as she gave me her full attention. "I didn't peg you for the suspicious type," she taunted.

I smiled. "I never said I believed it. Just what I've heard."

She chuckled, licking her lips. "Fair point... I don't believe it either. I just love black cats. They're so cute and get way too much stick for merely existing."

It was my turn to laugh. She had such a unique way of thinking that I couldn't help but be attracted to. Something as simple as the way she was smiling at me right now warmed my heart.

"How is your hand by the way?" she suddenly asked, eyes looking down to it.

I squeezed it into a fist and released. The purple bruising along my knuckles had turned yellow-green which meant it was getting better, but it did still hurt a little. Nonetheless, I didn't want to make Wanda feel bad, so I gave her a reassuring smile.

"It's okay," I said, making her look up at me with concerned eyes. "I mean, it hurts a little, but it's getting better."

She pursed her lips, nodding. "Nate really did deserve what you did. Bet it felt good."

I raised my eyebrows with surprise, certainly not expecting that. "I guess it did a little, but..."

"It's okay, I'm not biased," she promised with a slight smile. "We broke up, remember?"

I relaxed before mirroring her expression. "Then yeah, it felt pretty great. Karma for hitting me with that stupid football."

She chuckled, leaning back into her seat and clutching her cat. "Karma, indeed." There was a pause, before she grew excited. "So prom is coming up. How are we feeling?"

I groaned playfully. "We're feeling exhausted already. I'm not a huge prom fan."

She gasped. "Seriously? Y/N, come on, it's our last one! How aren't you excited?"

I pulled a face. "The concept of dancing in a hall with people I barely speak to isn't exactly appealing."

She straightened up, hugging her cat closely. "So what, you're not gonna go?"

"I'm not sure yet... Y/BF/N has plans to ask someone and really wants me to go, too," I admitted. "But I've not decided. I might just leave him to it."

She tilted her head to the side curiously, eyes studying me intensely. "What if somebody asked you to go with them? Then would you go?"

I tried not to laugh as I leaned my head in the palm of my hand on the table. "Nobody is going to ask me, Wanda. Nobody even knows who I am."

She scoffed playfully. "Now that's just not true. You're beautiful, Y/N. Funny. Kind. Intelligent. Someone is bound to ask."

I rolled my eyes, hoping to distract from the heat rising to my cheeks. I knew she was just saying all of that stuff to be nice, but God was I awful at accepting compliments.

She must have noticed as she leaned forward on her own palm, eyes glowing with entertainment. "Okay, what if you asked somebody?"

Appreciating the subject change, I leaned back in my seat. "I wouldn't even know who to ask."

She thought about it for a moment, before saying, "Pietro was being annoying earlier with all of that questioning, but he's right. Is there nobody you're even remotely interested in at school?"

I quirked a brow, wondering if she was serious. The way she was watching me patiently, a small smile tugging at her lips, made me believe she was. And I found that I couldn't bring it in myself to completely lie to her. So, I didn't.

"There's one person," I admitted reluctantly, swallowing hard. This piqued her interest as she sat up straight, an excited look on her face. I continued, "But I could never ask her."

She gave me an are you serious? look. "And why not?"

I tensed my jaw, smile fading at the thought. "She wouldn't say yes."

Wanda's expression softened. "I doubt that."

Feeling a little uncomfortable, I shuffled in my seat. "She wouldn't. And it's fine anyway! I mean, I wouldn't even know what to say. It's pointless."

"Try," was all she said. And in response to my confused face, she added, "Try asking me. Practice what you would say if I was this girl."

I shook my head. "Wanda, that's not–"

"Just try!" she insisted, sitting back in her seat and smiling encouragingly. "No harm, no foul, right?"

Maybe a little, I thought, but straightened up anyway.

"Okay, er..." I cleared my throat, suddenly feeling nervous as her eyes followed my every move. Looking up, I felt intimidated by her gaze, even though she had the softest smile and kindest eyes directed my way. "Wanda, would you like to go to prom with me?"

Without hesitation, she nodded. "I'd be honoured to, Y/N."

It was fake, this whole thing was 'practice'. But God, I wanted it to be real so bad. She held my gaze, confident and startling and wonderful all at once, and I had no idea what to do. My palms were getting sweaty and my heart was racing the longer she stared. My gaze fell to her lips at the wrong time, as she licked them and I wanted to lean in, wanted to kiss her. I wanted to kiss her hard and tell her how I felt. I wanted to ask her to prom and dance with her in the school gym. I wanted to hold her hand and pull her close, staring into her eyes without fear of going too far.

I wanted her.

"Okay, we're all done here," Pietro's voice broke our staring contest. He clapped his hands together, stopping by the table. "You both ready to go?"

Wanda nodded, already sliding out from the booth. "I'm ready. Y/N?"

I looked up and forgot how to breathe when she smiled down at me.

"Y-yeah," I got out, wiping my palms on my jeans before sliding out the booth. "All ready. Let's go."

—

Prom came upon us in no time and I'd made the decision to attend. My sister ended up convincing me with Y/BF/N, the two of them rambling about how it was a once-in-a-lifetime experience and a rite of passage before graduating high school. As much as I hated the thought of attending, I knew they were right, so I agreed to go.

Y/S/N came over to help me get ready, as she was the one who picked my dress. I wanted to wear a cute pantsuit, not really one for dresses, but after her complaints – "you're really milking that whole 'I'm a lesbian' look aren't you?" – I agreed on a dress that she chose.

She helped me do my hair and makeup before taking loads of embarrassing photos of me at the door. I went to prom with Y/BF/N and his date – some girl he liked in his Maths class – which wasn't too bad, but I didn't want to third wheel too much, so I gave them space when we actually arrived.

The school had done a good job at converting the gym into something unrecognisable, I must admit. Plus there was food, which was always a good distraction.

Some acquaintances from some of my classes said their hellos to me and engaged in some quick conversations before moving on. Admittedly, it wasn't too bad catching up with people I'd shared class with over the past several years. Y/BF/N even had a few dances with me, both him and his date, which was sweet, but honestly, I still felt out of place.

Two hours in, I was already fed up of the experience, opting to stand on the sidelines by a cocktail table with a sad glass of punch. I definitely didn't expect to see Wanda approaching me with an impressed smile on her lips. I hadn't actually seen her since arriving, the place full of students and myself barely recognising anyone as it was, let alone in a full gymnasium.

"You came," she said when she stopped my table, eyes looking me up and down. "You look amazing, Y/N."

She was one to talk. I tried not to drool over how beautiful she looked. I assumed she'd be one to wear a dress, but I guess I assumed wrong as she was pulling off a burgundy suit and white blouse. Her hair was curled and left out, paired with a smokey eye makeup look that only complimented her eyes perfectly.

"Says you?" I replied with a smile. "You look gorgeous, Wanda."

She smiled bashfully. "Thank you... so what made you change your mind in coming?"

I laughed uncomfortably, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. "Partially forced by my family, partially felt like I had to."

She laughed alongside me. "Well, I feel like you made the right choice."

"Not too sure about that," I joked, before straightening up. "So, who was lucky enough to bring Wanda Maximoff as their date to the prom?"

She rolled her eyes at my compliment, smile on her lips still. "Nobody. I came alone. Well, alone but with my brother."

I was surprised at that, but tried to hide it with a nod. "Alone works, too."

"Says the girl who also came alone," she teased.

I couldn't help but smile with amusement. "Yeah. Says she."

Setting her purse on the table, she began to open it. "I was looking for you earlier. But I couldn't find you."

I watched as she fumbled around in her purse. "Yeah? And what did you need?"

After a moment of searching, she finally pulled out two slips of paper that looked like tickets. Holding them up with a small smile, she said, "I've got two tickets to the Paramore concert happening in the summer."

My jaw dropped with disbelief. "You're kidding."

She shook her head, holding them towards me. I accepted them, looking to see if she was pulling my leg. She wasn't.

"These are really good seats," I pointed out, before looking up at her. "You scored big time."

She laughed as I held the tickets out to her. Accepting them back, she said, "I did. And I bought them for a reason."

I raised an eyebrow as she watched me.

"We've got to get matching tee shirts somehow, right?" she joked lightheartedly before looking to me with certainty. Green eyes sparkled with hopefulness as she said, "Come with me."

My mouth went dry. She was asking me to go with her, holy shit.

I opened my mouth, about to speak, but she cut me off.

"Don't say maybe," she said, chewing on her lower lip nervously. "Say yes."

The music and the dancing students and the lights all faded into nothing as Wanda waited for a response, stepping closer to me, way too close to be platonic. I was overwhelmed, definitely not expecting this. Never in a million years did I think Wanda Maximoff, the most popular girl in our grade, would be asking me to see Paramore with her. I didn't even think she knew I existed!

Her eyes darted between mine patiently, sending shivers down my spine. I could feel her breath tickling my lips as she waited and I looked down to hers, suppressing the urge to lean in.

"Yes," I finally spoke, voice barely a whisper as I swallowed hard. "I'll go with you."

She nodded, but that wasn't enough as she licked her own lips. I looked back to her eyes, only to see her looking down at mine.

"Can I kiss you?" she muttered softly, making me freeze in place.

Her eyes looked back to mine, dark and patient. I managed to nod weakly, and she wasted no more time when pressing her lips to mine a in a slow, gentle, warm kiss. Her hand wrapped around my waist, tugging my body close to hers, as the other rested behind my neck, giving me goosebumps and turning my insides to jelly.

I closed my eyes, melting into her embrace, one hand planted firmly on her waist as the other rested on her chest. She tasted like peppermint and her floral perfume was infiltrating my senses, making my head dizzy in the best way possible.

When she pulled away, I opened my eyes and was immediately submerged in pools of green. Still so close to her, I kept ahold of her waist as she did the same with me, eyes flickering down to my lips once more.

"I've wanted to do that for a long time," I admitted breathlessly.

She looked to me again. "Why didn't you?"

Her lips were swollen slightly, red lipstick ruined. I could only imagine the mess on my own lips, but I didn't care.

I smiled nervously. "You were with Nate."

She tried not to laugh. "How stupid of me." Eyes falling to my lips again, she added, "I should have broken up with him sooner if it meant I could do this."

I smiled widely, heart fluttering in my chest at her words. Leaning forward, I took her bottom lip in mine, giving her a final kiss that was long overdue before pulling away.

"In case you couldn't tell, you were the girl I wanted to ask to prom," I said, stepping back slightly, but taking her hands in mine.

She bit her lip to contain her smile. "I figured... and for the record, I would have said yes."

My cheeks began to heat up, but I smiled nonetheless. "Well, in that case... Wanda, would you like to go to prom with me?"

She grinned. "I would be honoured, Y/N."

I mirrored her expression. She held out her free hand.

"Do you wanna dance?" she asked gently.

I accepted her hand, squeezing it gently. "I'd love to."

Before either of us could make a move to do so, we heard Pietro's voice shouting in the distance.

"Fina-fucking-lly!"

We turned to the left to see him racing towards us in his blue suit, a knowing smile on his lips.

"You took forever," he said with disbelief to his sister. "I thought I'd have to keep flirting with Y/N in front of you for you to get the hint and make a fucking move."

Wanda rolled her eyes, but I smiled as her cheeks dusted pink.

"And you!" he said, looking to me. "You're so oblivious it hurts."

"Wanda didn't know I existed before this year," I told him, half joking and half serious. "I had every right to be."

Wanda squeezed my hand, earning my attention. She shook her head. "That's not true. I always noticed you."

I gave her a knowing look. "Seriously?"

With an endearing smile, she nodded. "Seriously."

I sighed, looking away and definitely not expecting that. "Well, okay then."

She laughed, pulling me close and wrapping an arm around my waist comfortably. "I believe you owe me a dance. C'mon.

Pietro opened his mouth to speak, but Wanda merely pushed past him, guiding me to the dance floor.

"Not now, Piet," she said, before looking to me with sparkling eyes. "I want to dance with my girlfriend."

I was sure it was impossible for me to smile anymore.

"Girlfriend," I noted aloud, nodding. "I like the sound of that."

She grinned before standing opposite me, holding out her hand. And as I accepted it, I felt a warmth spread all over me that was only possible because of one girl and one girl only.

Wanda Maximoff.

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff au #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #elizabeth olsen #marvel imagine #mcu #marvel #mcu imagine #scarlet witch #scarlet witch imagine

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dorimena · 3 years

Text

𝕻𝖗𝖊𝖙𝖙𝖞 𝖕𝖙.𝟏

𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔯𝔞𝔠𝔱𝔢𝔯; monoma neito

𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱; 5.1k of filth,

𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰; nsfw, Overstimulation, edging, dacryphilia, degradation/humilliation, cursing, cockwarming, crossdressing, school girl kink (?), mommy kink, pegging, cum play+eating, dom!fem reader, sub!character

𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯 𝔱𝔞𝔤𝔰; whiney Monoma, loud sex, Monoma in a skirt, soundproof dorms, mentions of other 1B characters, aged-up character, Monoma is 18 in this

𝔰𝔦𝔡𝔢 𝔫𝔬𝔱𝔢; this was meant to just be some long fic, but I find it easier to just divide it into 2 parts while I figure out how to write out the scene I actually wanted to get to. I got carried away. This is what I've been doing during holy week. My religious school would be ashamed of me. This has been proofread, but if there are still any mistakes, I apologize.

𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱 𝔦𝔦.; incomplete/in progress.

Monoma had a shit week.

It all started on Monday when his school pants ripped conveniently from the back as he bent down to pick up his fallen notebook. They didn’t even look like they would rip! So how did they...? All he could hear during his inner turmoil and growing embarrassment were murmurs of pity, whispers of curiosity, and his homeroom teacher calling his name countless times to send him back to the dorms to change. Permission slip in hand and underwear out, he silently nodded and made his out, all while ignoring a burning sensation in his eyes and sudden dryness in his throat.

(Walking out the doors with his blazer tied around his waist, he swore he heard a familiar giggle and mockery coming from a smart-mouthed girl.)

Tuesday came bulldozing so suddenly that it ran over him. Well, really it was Yaoyorozu’s canon that almost ran him over.

The day, in general, was normal, none of his classmates made comments about the minor incident the day before, well, except for Y/N who asked if he sent his pants to be fixed or not. (He didn’t, so she demanded him to hand it over to her.) He didn’t go back to the dorms after their last class, since he has to carry out classroom cleaning duties after he accidentally pushed Bakugou into the mud last week. No, seriously, it was an accident. First off, he didn’t see the mud. Second off, he was messing around with Kaibara’s quirk, which spooked Nirengeki who was somehow walking close by to the hot-headed explosion man- and… well, Monoma mistook Bakugou for Honenuki. For some odd reason. How insulting to his intelligence and great memory skills.

So after such a tiring task of brooming, wiping, dusting, and inspecting, he expected to be knocked off his feet with whatever Kendo decided to cook for dinner, not Yaoyorozu’s canon. God, and he shrieked! Who fucking shrieks?! He’s 18, he’s not supposed to shriek! Unless you’re pegging him just right-

Wednesday only sucked because you canceled your biweekly study session in favor of hanging out with the girls in 3A. Now, regardless of what people still say, he has matured and slowly grew out his competitiveness and “jealousy” over class A, and doesn’t really have much issue with most of them (mainly because Shinsou somehow helped him become more “friendly”). However, how dare you choose the girls over him! You’ve never done that.

(And whether or not he was moody and pouty is just a hallucination of yours, he swears it.)

The only bad thing, if you could even call it that, that happened on Thursday was that it slipped his mind how much time he had left to use Tsuburaba’s quirk and lost against his good ol’ pal.

Friday though… Friday was just really weird and he hated how it only felt weird for him. Maybe it’s pent up frustration with how the week went? Maybe it’s the pouty baby in him still being butthurt over Wednesday’s missed study date? Maybe it’s you staring at his legs and ass? Maybe it’s the way you look so delectable in your hero outfit? Maybe- well, now he was just overthinking it, and he rarely ever does! He was tempted on asking Shinsou to, y’know, brainwash him so he could forget this weird feeling of him feeling weird.

Now comes Saturday.

Today is Saturday.

Today is 10:06 pm on a Saturday.

You’re over at his dorm for the already mentioned biweekly study date. He should feel happy, considering you brought over some snacks, ordered take-out from his favorite French restaurant, even played with his hair every time you guys had the 15-minute study break.

But he’s not happy. He’s not unhappy, but he isn’t happy? Again, the weird feeling he felt the day before hasn’t really left and it’s been crawling around his skin, only getting worse when he saw you coming in with pants.

It’s not supposed to make him feel not happy, but you usually come over with a cute skirt or dress, showing enough of your thighs and panties to keep him up at night, fantasizing about them wrapped around his head, suffocating him as he eats you out so delicately or ferociously, littered with his desperate bites and kisses, making him whine out in horny pain-

“Monoma?” you asked, eyebrows furrowed in worry as you ditch your phone to look over at your whining boyfriend. “You okay there?”

Shit. He must’ve gotten lost in his thoughts. “Yes, I am perfectly fine, darling.”

Now that’s weird. He’s speaking so softly, and he only ever does that after he’s cum at least a few times, or when he’s totally relaxed and ready to call it a night. Well, there are those few times where he lies and he speaks about the same.

Humming, you smile sweetly at him.

“Are you sure about that, baby boy?”

Oh, that sent a shudder through his body, his white shirt suddenly feeling too thick and his shorts feeling a bit constricting. In other words, he’s now turned on.

He stays quiet, however, because he feels like his voice will give away his actual feelings, whether it continues being soft or it decides to crack and show how he’s ready to give himself away to you.

“Neito. I asked you a question.”

“No, mommy! I-I mean, I don’t know…” He huffed out, embarrassment now outweighing his neediness. God, why did you have to pull out the mommy card?! You’re so wicked. Did you not know how horrible his week was and now you want to be mean to him?

“What do you mean by that, baby?”

“Well, I’ve had a horrible week, mommy! You should know that!”

“Don��t dare yell at me, Neito. Mommy’s trying to be patient and understanding, but if you’re going to just be a brat, then I should just leave you in time out, right?” Monoma gawked, his whole body and attention turned towards you as you got off of his bed, arms crossed and disappointment showing on your face. Really? You’re disappointed? Just as he opened his mouth to talk back, you spoke first.

“And here I brought one last gift for you. I’m here trying to be such a caring, doting girlfriend, and you start making assumptions about my efforts? Bad boy!”

Wait, gift? These were gifts? Oh! You… you were trying to comfort him? God, guess he was a bad boy.

Seeing him deflate, eyes losing whatever snark they possessed, you sigh and walk towards your bag near the door. And this made him stand up so quickly he lost his footing and slightly fell forward, shocked that you could be leaving already, which you aren’t. Startled by his sudden movement, you quickly take out a plastic bag and hold it in front of him to show the last gift.

It was quiet between you two, staring at each other before looking down at what you are holding.

“What is that?” He’s the first to speak, blinking as he tries to figure out what the dark blue item could possibly be. It’s pleated, though, so-

“Is it the skirt you’ll change into?” And you laugh, shaking your head as you walk back to the bed and sit.

“Not me, baby. You will change into it.” He’s going to be wearing a skirt?

Blinking once more in confusion, he giggles awkwardly before frowning.

“You’re joking, right?” Now it’s your turn to frown.

“No.” And you smile confidently. “I promise, if you wear the outfit in here, it’ll lead us to the actual last gift, hm?” You bat your eyelashes like a little girl asking her dad for a new Barbie doll, or whatever it is they bat their eyelashes for. You’re curious to see what he’ll do.

And you didn’t have to wait long for his decision to be made.

Sitting on your naked lap, thighs trembling in either overexertion or overstimulation, is a certain sweaty, defiled blond male with gorgeous teary, periwinkle eyes trying their best to focus down on you.

After he swiftly and elegantly changed into the outfit, it came to show on his mirror that this wasn’t some random crop top and skirt combo, but a whole schoolgirl uniform: apart from a cropped school girl top and the pleated navy skirt, there were white thigh highs and cute hair clips.

Turns out, you misunderstood his ‘subtle’ hints of some kinky schoolgirl skirt sex; you thought he was offering, with the way he’d bat his pretty eyelashes at you and stare at your skirt during lunch. Really, he was implying you stay with it on, somehow.

Regardless of who was wrong, the fact your pretty boy is squirming uncontrollably with your strap-on deep inside him is something you just have to engrave in your mind. Who knows when you’ll be able to buy another skirt his size? You can’t wait to render it useless.

“Y-You’ve been thin-thinking for too-oo long!” Monoma whines, bringing a hand to wipe away his bothersome tears he doesn’t want you to see, huffing at the end before moaning loudly as you roll your hips upwards, the tip of the dildo teasing his sweet spot.

“Mm, I didn’t say you can speak yet, did I? Guess mommy spoiled you too much.” Sneering, you shift on the bedsheets under you while placing your hands on his thighs, slowly raking your nails upwards. You try your best to avoid the white thigh-high socks, not wanting to make him ticklish and forget why you’re even touching him there.

Monoma shakingly gasps, squirming even more as he tries to have his pathetic, precum weeping dick grab the attention of either one of your hands but ends up staining the clothing covering it. Rolling your eyes, you smack the hairless skin hard enough to watch it quickly flush red and hear him groan, whether in pain, arousal or both.

“Stop it. You’re making me angry with how selfish you’re being. Isn’t mommy supposed to be satisfied first? Or did you forget our rules, baby?”

“N-no! No! No, I- no!” Is whining all that he can do? He’s been whining or moaning for the past hour, with the occasional groans or gasps. You don’t want him to only whine, you need to see him cry.

Cry prettily as he did on Monday when he thought no one was looking back at the dorms. Watch him struggle to keep his whimpers of humiliation at bay. Make him forget all about his silly pride and stupid competitiveness against a class who doesn’t really see him as a threat, but just a crazy motherfucker (or so says Hagakure.)

“No what, Neito? ‘No mommy! I do know the rules!’ or ‘No mommy! I forgot the rules!’ C’mon, baby. I thought you knew how to speak properly? Now you’re making Bakugou seem eloquent.”

Oh no, you’re upset at him. Monoma gasps in offense, though, at the implication that the anger and pride-driven Bakugou is better than him at speaking. Ouch, okay, that actually kind of hurt but it was kinda hot? Kinda not? What’s wrong with him?

Yeah, what’s wrong with him? You’re expecting him to go on with his speech of how Bakugou isn’t anywhere near his expertise and social skills, how he’s clearly more coherent than the other, or the typical ‘how dare you’ sentences. What you didn’t expect was him to whimper and clasp his hands together as if asking for forgiveness so soon.

“No mo-mommy! I do know! Th-The rules, th-that is! I know ‘em!”

“Then you’ll stop moving so much and let mommy continue marking you? If you do, and I’ll be repeating this for the last time, Neito, mommy might let you cum first, mm? Sounds good?”

“Ye-ES!” Okay, maybe you should’ve waited until he answered to land another slap on his thighs, although this one was close to his dick. Oh well, at least he’s making other sounds, but no struggle or tears.

Leaving nail marks around the pale, smooth skin, even carving your name on both thighs with light scratches, you’re in awe at how he’s trying not to move too much. Then again, he is your sweet baby boy, who thrives and gets off of making you proud of him and cumming because of him.

Lifting your eyes from the satisfying reddening skin to his face, you’re struck with awe again: finally, as if some god were listening to your wishes, you see him blinking rapidly as a new batch of tears quickly accumulate on his lashline and slowly trickle down his red cheeks before being furiously wiped away by him. Seems like this has been going on for a bit, seeing how his eyes are slightly red and his hands, clasped back together, if not tighter, look kind of wet. He didn’t want you to know he was trying not to cry and then failed so beautifully.

Gosh, and here you were expecting him to be a brat, to defy your authority over him, to challenge you like he usually does.

(If only you had some mind-reading quirk, you would’ve known he actually had been planning his next moves.)

“Good job, baby! You let mommy mark you so pretty with her hands, and look! Mommy’s name is on your thighs, so that next time you touch yourself you won’t forget who you belong to- I mean, who you’re a baby boy for.”

You’re basking in happiness, in pride, in complete bliss while he thanks you in small whimpers, hips twitching and hole clenching around your strap. Right, you forgot how long he has been cockwarming you; guess he deserves an even better award. He never manages to hold back for so long when sitting on your silicone cock.

Rubbing your palms around his thighs without moving your stare from his face, you command him to put his hands to use and lift the hem of the skirt, getting a good show of a new dribble of precum dropping heavily onto your pelvis. His dick is even shaking just as much as his body, pulsing even more than any other past encounter. It’s also competing against Kirishima’s red hair for the title of the “most red thing ever to exist”.

Monoma’s opening and closing his mouth, eyebrows furrowed in question and silent begging.

“You can speak now.”

“M-Mommy, you pro-hah-mised t-to make hn-me cu-um!”

“...Watch that tone, little boy.” You glowered before continuing. “Remind mommy what she promised you and explain why you deserve it.”

Now you’re being unfair again and Monoma doesn’t want to deal with how you’re suddenly trying to milk out his responses to the way you want. Crossing his arms and glaring down at you, he mutters, “Wh-why should I? Did y-you forget?”

Humming, you move your hands to his hips, rubbing your thumb on the cheap material covering them before beginning to lift him off, at least trying to. “Guess mommy should go back to her room since her baby boy decided to be a little bitch.”

“No!” That’s startling on both your ends hearing such a loud, anguished tone come out of him. Bottom lip trembling and quickly putting his hands to grip tightly at the skirt, Monoma holds back a sob.

“I’m so-sorry, mommy! ‘m not a-a, um, little b-bitch. I’m sorry.” Ending with a whisper, he slowly puts all of his body weight down on your lap, wanting to keep you there and make it impossible to lift him off, and hangs his head in defeat. (Really, it’s because of shame, but you’ll never hear that from him.)

Do you not realize how hard he’s shaking? He can feel his heartbeat in his ears and hear it from his brain. He’s all sweaty and flushed red, his pupils dilate every time you look deep into them. He’s seen the way your eyes light up when glancing at his weeping dick, and he loves how wet it looks, it feels, it sounds, whenever he shifts.

Most importantly, other than his neglected manhood slowly turning a shade of purple, his prostate has been teased for so long that he just wants to ride you hard enough to find bruises tomorrow and hypothetically ‘destroy your cock’.

“If you’re sorry, you’ll tell me what I want to hear. I’m not going to repeat what I asked for.”

Gulping to ease down the shame building up in his body, he lifts his head enough to catch your gaze before softly responding.

“Mommy, um, promised I-I get to cum… she’ll m-make me cum if I-I stopped movin’ s’ much.” Goddamn it, Monoma, get yourself together! “I d-deserve this be-because I stopped. Was a g-good ba-um, baby boy.” He loves hates it when you make him do this, even if not often.

Satisfied with the answer you’ll probably only ever hear once and as clear as possible, you nod your head.

“Then fuck yourself on my cock, Neito.”

No need to repeat yourself. Every little noise he tried so hard to hold back, every twitch and shudder he tried so hard to subdue, every twist of his face to show off the agonizing pleasure is quickly overcoming his insides and dick.

He’s whimpering so loudly, so shamelessly, as he bounces greedily on your lap. Loud and wet skin slapping against each other, and you at first thought, through every lost huff of air, that it’d be his ass connecting to your lube-covered thighs. Instead, your eyes shift towards his crying cock, the way spurts and spurts of precum are left on your lower abdomen, how this furiously blushing extremity keeps slapping itself onto you with every one of his desperate bounces. It’s even wetter than moments ago, you would’ve thought it’d be lube.

Monoma opens his eyes, which seemed to have closed at some point, and looks down at your face, huffing out airy whines of ‘what’, not knowing what you’re looking at. His dick has been wet with his precum for the past hour, so what could be new?

Until he looks down at himself and is mesmerized with how his dick, heavy with unreleased cum and flushed with blood, is tainting and slapping against your beautiful skin with his horny juice- wait, how stupid is he to refer to his precum as ‘horny juice?’

Stupid enough to forget to close his mouth and make his built up drool mix in with the mess below, his whimpers and whiny moans turning into high-pitched cries of your name and loud moans, a normal person would worry about their neighbors. The more he stares at himself, the louder he gets and the sloppier his hips gyrate.

Until he suddenly feels the tip of the toy punch against his prostate.

“Ahn! AGAIN! A-aga-again! Nngain!” Monoma screams, eyes crossing and welling up with old and new built-up tears, ready to drip down. He’s gripping and pulling the hem of his skirt in all directions, his hands never staying still even when a light rip could be heard upon a harsh pull. He recreates the same move, thighs quivering and tensing, begging to be closed. Each accurate hit to his sensitive spot forces out a louder cry and threatens his tears to let loose.

His movements get sloppier and lazier. Seems like he’s tiring out, which isn’t good. Sure, you’re hoping to make him cry with pretty tears and ugly sobs, but you were also hoping to make him do so repeatedly. Then again, if he’s tired out, there wouldn't be much fight or snark from him and maybe you can still make him cry freely.

Good thing you know how to execute fantastic sneak attacks against him.

Under the pillow where your head is situated, you reach for a not-so-small device that kind of looks like a walkie-talkie. Monoma sees this when trying to focus his sight, tensing up at the thought that maybe you were recording this for some benefit or blackmail. But why would you want to blackmail your own boyfriend? Had he done something not to your liking?

The answer came in the form of loud buzzing and sudden quaking starting from deep inside him.

“Wh-wh-wha-what is- hnngh, st-sto-op!” Monoma wails out, almost falling onto your body with how powerful the vibrations are churning hot inside of him. His vision is getting blurry, blocked by the tears that finally, finally are let go and kiss his cheeks with every hot trail left behind.

“You, oh, want me to stop?” He can kind of see your wicked grin, the mockery in your tone and amusement oozing out making him let even more tears fall. Why would you want to stop?

“St-sto-op?! No? N-no! No! P-pluh-plea- nnnghh!”

Ah, so he’s gone dumb. He doesn’t realize he said to stop. Well, now you can either continue watching him break on your lap and admire the waterfall of precum and fresh tears and make him continue working for his orgasm; or, you can tease him some more while turning up the intensity of the toy, now that it’s pleasuring you for once. The way it tickles your clit is enough to make your panting much more noticeable and thighs tense. You wonder how a setting at 4 could already drag out such reactions from the blond male. Enticed now, you decide to go with the second choice.

“P-pluh-plea…? Didn’t think y-you’d be stupid! Where did m-my smart-mouthed baby go? Ugh.”

“N-n’where m’mmy! ‘m h-here- Fuck! Fuck, pl-please! Please! Mo-more? Nngh!”

“You’re slurring, b-baby. But, you a-asked politely.” You hover your thumb over the ‘+’ button, hips grinding upward to drag out some more tears, more cries, more whimpers as you melt into the bed.

“Mommy’s g-gonna count to 10, al-alright? Ugh, then you’ll c-cum, mm. Understand?”

You’ve never seen so much eagerness come from Monoma before, well, not unless it’s because he knows he’ll win at something or get to prove his worth even more. But the way he nods reminds you of a bobblehead: empty in the head, cute to look at.

“G-good. Don’t forget t-to keep riding m-mommy’s big, th-thick cock.” You then lower your voice, sending shivers down his spine even with how hot he feels. “Understand?”

You don’t wait to see more of his eager nods. You press down on the button until it reaches the maximum intensity, which makes your hips jolt up so harshly, thrusting the silicon toy back up to him that it’s enough to make him squeal. Now that’s new.

As much as you’re enjoying how satisfying the stimulation is on your wet cunt, you can’t help but moan out loud Monoma’s name as the boy’s reduced to short-lived squeals and rapid hiccups, so rapid that you’re beginning to think he might be hyperventilating. Worried, you bring your thumb to reduce the intensity before feeling him grind so desperately on your lap. So without any more distractions or hesitations, you quickly begin the countdown.

“Ten.” Monoma repeats with a strained moan, his hands flailing about as he tries to grab purchase onto something, letting go of his ‘forgotten’ skirt.

“N-nine.” Monoma finally plants his trembling hands onto your shoulders, pinning you down enough to give enough strength to his arms. Hovering over you, you frown at his skirt-covered dick.

“Ei-eight.” Monoma tenses his thighs as much as possible to stop the shaking. Even if it didn’t do much, he begins riding you again with more vigor and desperation than previously. A high-pitched whine of your name quickly leaves him as his sensitive dick receives friction from the fabric covering it, the stain that had dried over time reviving as more precum marks it.

“Seven- shit.” Monoma’s trying to look down at you. He can’t really see much of anything, not with his tears never stopping or his mind not setting back into an intellectual phase. He can barely think to say anything else but lewd chants of your name and ‘please’, ‘more’, ‘faster’. It’s not until he moans out a timid “f-fu-ugh- fuck!” that you pay mind to the rapidly growing heat in your stomach.

“Six! Fuck, Neito!” Monoma’s continuous chants and growing volume suddenly sound babbled as he drools down on you, his saliva hitting your chin before you growl up at him. No words are exchanged as he swallows the liquid that had accumulated, although with difficulty. His thighs are beginning to burn and shake with exhaustion, quaking even worse than when he was cockwarming you. His riding turned into hard bouncing, finally stealing your breath away physically and providing some movement on the other end of the silicone toy to press harder onto your clit.

“Fi-five!” Monoma’s eyes cross for the second time, staying longer in that position as he chokes on his scream, all because you’re beginning to meet up with your own thrusts. Your feet planted on the bed as you let go of the control for the vibrator, gripping onto his hips tightly to match him with you. You’re beginning to moan so sweetly, gasping out his name loud enough for him to-

“Cl-clo-ose! F-ugh-fuck! Fuck! Clo-oooose!”

“Ho-hold it! Hold i-it, baby, a-almost the-there!” God, the heat is growing so deep in you that you know this will be violent.

“Four- shiiit.” Monoma’s sobbing now, ever since you told him to hold it. Mission accomplished, so far. He’s blinking rapidly, trying to get rid of the tears and allow him to actually see you. He needs to see your lewd faces, ignoring the fact he is probably rivaling yours. The intense need to cum is building up far too quickly for him to even catch up and he just wants to cum right here, right now. But if he does, you’ll punish him. So, he tries his best to hold it.

“Three! Three, Neito!” Monoma’s trying so hard to not cum, to not even think about it, but how can he if his prostate is being overstimulated and his cock keeps receiving such familiar friction, enough to make him sob even louder. He’s not going to make it.

“T-two! Lif-ft your sk-skirt!” Monoma can’t or else he’ll fall on you. But you’re grabbing onto him so hard that he hasn’t felt the need to support himself on your shoulders. Using whatever energy he has left, he throws himself up to his old sitting position, making his bouncing sloppier and unsynchronized with your thrusts. He quickly grabs onto the wet hem, biting his lip as he tries to swallow and control his sobs. Lifting it, he’s rewarded with the sight of his slick covered cock, so red and noticeably throbbing that his eyes slightly roll to the back of his head.

“One! Fuck, one!” Monoma’s mouth opens wide, his throat constricting as every choked moan and cry tries to escape while his ass begins to tighten alarmingly fast around the toy. He jumps when he feels something wrap around him, quickly looking down at himself again to see, then feel, you viciously stroke him. And that does it.

“Cum.”

Monoma gasps as he relaxes his thighs and lets go. One more hit to his prostate and he’s…

He’s quiet.

Your eyes are as wide as dinner plates as you watch him reach his orgasm: on you, in all his beautiful glory, is Monoma Neito. A guy whose back is arched at a certain angle you’re sure it’s uncomfortable. A guy whose nipples are completely being seen through the drenched crop top. A guy whose mouth is leaking trails of drool, but not as much as his eyes are leaking streams of unstoppable tears. A guy whose face is so red and sweaty, his bangs are striking to the skin and his eye color pops out more. A guy whose only warning of his cum leaving his body, as much as his soul had, is to roll his eyes so violently to the back of his head and convulse forward.

You forget about your orgasm as you try your best to support his body in the current position, not wanting him to fall on you or backward. Well, maybe you should’ve let him fall onto you.

His cum spurts seem to be gold medal Olympians in ‘how far can we reach’ and ‘how much can we be’. The first one barely misses your eyes, but the second one hits you on the forehead. With each spurt leaving his twitching cock, Monoma hiccups whiney and loud words of gratitude and mercy, hips jumping up, torso jolting forward. His knuckles are white upon the unforgivable grip he has on his absolutely ruined skirt, slowly but surely being dirtied with each load forced out of him with the still-buzzing toy inside him.

This whole scene is enough to remind you about turning down the intensity of the vibrations while grinding slowly, both to help milk him out his incredibly overwhelming high and to bring you back to the tip of paradise.

By the time he’s done, he nearly collapses on you but first lifts himself, somehow, off of the toy before leaning back onto your lifted thighs. He’s still twitching, the color of his face slowly coming back as his eyes dry up from the tears. The socks have moved a bit down on his legs and most of the pretty hello-kitty themed hair clips are barely fastened on his hair. You’re pretty sure some are littered around the bed.

Monoma’s eyeing his mess curiously and taking in a cum-covered you before he scoops up some of his cum, tastes himself and you both moan softly. You turn the toy off, still rolling your hips as much as possible to ride out your harsh, hot, and wet orgasm. You’re pretty sure you somehow squirted, but that doesn’t matter too much right now.

Because the moment Monoma came back to his senses and made eye contact with you, you find yourself living in a slow-motion picture: with a shaky hand, he uses the same fingers to write down his first name before scooping up as much of his excess cum and, without any warning, moves forward to thrust his fingers in your mouth, dragging the pads of his fingertips down onto your tongue as you swallow.

Pulling his fingers out slowly while giggling breathlessly, his signature smirk grows onto his blissed-out face.

“H-how do I ta-taste, m-mommy?”

#bnha smut #mha smut #monoma neito smut #monoma smut #sub bnha #monoma x reader #monoma neito x reader #ლ; blasphemy #𝖒𝖔𝖓𝖔𝖒𝖆

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chemicalpink · 4 years

Text

Lonely Hearts Club ♡ BTS OT7

Pairing: female reader x OT7

Warning: smut. polyamory. kinda voyeurism (? like- how else are you supposed to make an 8 people intercourse work.

A/N: this has a very poor representation of polyamory ok. It actually contains everything that is not how polyamory works, but it’s in favour of the theme. This is my last work for the Electra Heart Series

Summary: January to December, do you wanna be a member? In this Lonely Hearts Club, do you want to be with somebody like us?

Genre: smut

Word Count: 4.5k

“Where are you going Kookie?” Taehyung called from his spot cuddled on Jimin’s side without really tearing his eyes from the screen as they both watched some movie on the couch, a usual Friday night.

Jungkook paused for half a second as he made sure he had everything in his pocket before heading to the door “Out”

“Out where?” Jungkook groaned loudly at the questioning, as if it were nothing common within their relationship, determined to extend the silence in the room long enough to be comfortably dismissed from the conversation.

“Out with that girl he has yet to come clean to” Yoongi mentioned as he made his way to the living room, bag of chips in hand and stuffing a few inside his mouth as he did “which by the way, I’ve told him a thousand times before, it’s not decent to keep on leading her on”

“I’m not” the youngest murmured under his breath, which earned him a pointed look from Yoongi, followed by the TV pausing and both of the other men to turn their attention to him “I’m not leading her on”

A hand was placed on his right shoulder from behind, making him startle, wide doe eyes in full display as Seokjin voiced his input in the situation “You’re going out with a girl that we all know likes you while being a relationship, Jungkookie” Seokjin made the most overdramatic pout “I’d say that’s leading her on, plus, placing us second”

Jungkook let out a heavy sigh, already knowing he was about to be very late to the date “You guys all said you were okay with me dating out of the circle”

“You know we’re messing with you, come on, you’ll be late for your date” he’d have to thank Namjoon for always coming to the rescue when Seokjin was being a little bit too much.

If someone was to tell him he would end up in a polyamorous relationship he would have laughed in their face. If someone was to tell him that he would end up in a polyamorous relationship with the six older men he was forced to share his college unit with, he would have crumbled apart right there and then, it was no secret whatsoever that he had the biggest crush on the six of them the moment he first saw them, call it gay panicking or whatever.

And you see, things were going smooth, at least as smooth as they could be when 7 people are dating each other, minus the stares when they went out in public, the questioning of their not so close friends and the constant battle royale when it came down to sleeping arrangements, it was smooth. Until you came along. Sure, after eight months of him joining the polycule, and people unable to think outside their monogamous mindset, a fair number of guys and girls had approached him, which was always meant to go in either of two possible ways:

First, and best, case scenario, they were only interested in a fling, a one night stand that ultimately turns into a somewhat friendly distanced greeting when on campus, it was a thing between the seven men after all, being able to casually date outside the circle and understanding that the strongest emotional bond was with their boyfriends at home, although… Jungkook was the one doing it most often, Jimin following him casually in indulging in the pleasure of casual sex from time to time.

Second, and the hardest scenario due to him having the softest heart (if having Hoseok cutting ties with his potential partners in more than one occasion is anything to go by) is when after the first scenario, people keep trying to get in touch with him, not that there’s anything wrong with it but he wasn’t interested, plus, when he went as far as explaining the whole polyamory situation, people would dismiss it as an non-existent relationship or worse yet, there was a guy that went as far as telling him that all he needed was to be ‘dicked down good enough’ for him to stop being polyamorous; Yoongi had gone and had a friendly talk with the dude when Jungkook went home that night crying (he might have sent the guy to ER but there’s really no way to know)

So really, third case scenario was way out of control for him, said scenario being you. Never asking anything too invasive, hooked up a few times and even made him breakfast one of them which ended up with Jungkook bolting right out of your apartment, thinking that was it and he’d never see you again but boy was he wrong, you had texted him after to make sure he was okay, had the most amazing round of make up sex (could it even be called that when you two didn’t even fight? and it was all just him being a moron?).

So here’s the thing, maybe his heart started picking up when he saw you, maybe he started feeling butterflies when you two made out on your couch, maybe the blurred line between being a casual hook up and falling for you had become no line at all, and soon enough his hyungs started pestering him that he shouldn’t play with your feelings. God how much easier would it be if you were a student at his campus, with the amount of talk about the ‘7 best looking guys being in a polyamorous relationship’ really would have done the trick, so that he could stop the inner fear of losing you that came with owning it up and telling you he was indeed not just bisexual, but in an eight month relationship with 6 guys.

So far, Namjoon had had the most serious talk with him ever since he was invited to join the relationship, then came Yoongi constantly bickering with him as a passive agressive way to get him to come clean, Hoseok aggressively cuddling him while whispering borderline nasty and teasing things to him while Seokjin, Taehyung and Jimin had made it their job to try and gatekeep him from you before any date with the theatrics of non existent jealousy. Deep down he knew it was wrong, so wrong of him to keep such a vital piece of information from you, then again, he couldn’t bear the feeling of seeing you being disgusted for his love choices, polyamory was one hell of a misunderstood topic, often overseen as being greedy and unable to choose. Which was a blatant lie. He had made a choice eight months ago, and it pained him to even think that if the time came, he would have to stand by it. He would choose the six of them all over again. No doubts in his mind he would choose them over you if it came to be like that.

What if he had spent a week bawling his eyes out at night after a date with you and quality time at home, people should mind their own business. And the men he loved the most in the world were proving to be deserving of his love yet again. He had cried one last time after thinking just how much they were meaning to go out of their way to keep Jungkook happy. They had kept him in their best interests when they decided that maybe, prior further consideration and a serious talk involving you and Jungkook, maybe an eight addition wouldn’t be so bad.

“God I can’t believe we are not only condoning this behaviour but now we are endorsing it” Seokjin mentioned in one of his many overdramatic tones as he and Namjoon placed some delicious looking dishes out in their small backyard where they had all dressed up the place when little Jungkookie announced he was bringing you over.

Namjoon was quick to attempt to calm his boyfriend down while placing a small kiss on his lips “You’re overthinking”

“Oh, I’m overthinking? How about Mr Jeon Jungkook who apparently can neither keep it in his pants nor grow a pair and tell someone that they are polyamorous, huh?” Namjoon really had to try his hardest not to burst out laughing at the way Seokjin’s words seemed to blend in together as they came out of his mouth in a flow that resembled a rap song “Don’t you try and gaslight me, Namjoon, I’ll have you know, psychology was my major before it was yours”

“Doctor Kim has a beautiful ring to it”

Seokjin did not stop a whole minute to stop placing everything out on the table as he kept on bickering with the younger “Don’t try to woo me Kim Namjoon, I know you only like the ring of it because we share the last name”

Jimin walked out the exact moment they were blasting fiery heart eyes at each other, nothing out of the ordinary in their dynamic, “Seokjin-hyung, Namjoon-hyung, I think she’s here” the youngest of the three lend a hand for the whole table to be set in record time, already hearing an additional female voice that didn’t use to be there before coming from inside “I don’t think Taehyung’s on board with all...this”

“What do you mean he’s not on board, we talked about it before!” if there was the slightest bit of panic in Namjoon’s eyes, he was one hell of an actor to have it covered up as soon as he sensed Seokjin stiff on his side and the whole room began to feel stuffy even when being outside.

“Tae says he’s not coming down for dinner” Hoseok announced as he popped his head outside “Y/N is talking in the living room with Kookie and Yoongi, she seems nice” before disappearing inside the house.

“I fucking told you all of this would come to bite us in the ass Joonie, eight people is one person too many” may Seokjin’s inability to read eye expressions be damned when Namjoon and Jimin tried to get him to keep his voice down before any more damage was caused.

A mop of black hair popped up from inside just the way Hoseok had done before, startling the three men outside when Jungkook spoke “Hey, is everything alright?”

“Yeah, totally” Jimin tried to fake a smile which ended up being the fakest smile he had ever put on his face, making the youngest squint his eyes at the three of them in a questioning manner, a few seconds away from dismissing it, Seokjin broke

“Taehyung is not taking part”

“What do you mean Taehyung is not taking part?” Jungkook’s eyes widened almost comically but anyone could see the anxiety and panic rising in them, Namjoon ever the peacemaker in the relationship intervening

“Tae says he’s backing down, but I’ll have a talk with him and-”

“I’ll do it” Jungkook shook his head as he took off back inside to the opposite side from which he came from; even with the whole uncertainty of the situation, it was sure not to head the right way it should have.

“That sounds lovely, I can just imagine” you said as Namjoon, who had just introduced himself, finished a random story about all seven of them “So.. you all live here together then?”

“Oh yeah, inseparable bond and what not” Seokjin, the oldest of the seven smiled somewhat uncomfortably at you, avoiding any type of direct contact. At first it really seemed to have taken the right turn, chatting with Yoongi and Hoseok after Jungkook left to see if anything else was needed before dinner, but then things started to shift, an unknown but uncomfortable silence filling the room every now and then, the way Jimin couldn’t stop fidgeting in his seat and Seokjin made little to no effort to not show just how uncomfortable he was. Jungkook had mentioned earlier that his housemates could be somewhat weird, without mentioning exactly how, but from the looks of it, it had something to do with dating within themselves.

“Hey, do you mind if I use your restroom?”

“Ah sure, upstairs, first door to the left” Yoongi answered with a tight lip smile on his face, everyone’s eyes discreetly following you in silence until your figure couldn’t be seen, probably out of earshot as murmurs took over the living room.

Not that you really needed to use the toilet but it would be nice to splash some cold water in your face if you wanted to even try and survive the rest of the night, but as you reached the end of the stairs, a room across what seemed to be the bathroom caught your attention, snuffling noises coming from the inside, and you really should stick to your own business, but how much weirder could the night go? apparently, exponentially weirder.

You reached the door that was conveniently slightly open, allowing you to take a peek inside, a guy sitting beside Jungkook on the bed as he rubbed circles in the small of his back at the same time as he whispered things to his ear and you felt a pang in your chest, not really believing the whole sexual tension inside the room, perhaps your mind playing with you; up until the guy clearly nibbled Jungkook’s ear, a breathy moan escaping from his lips, your brain shortcircuiting between not understanding what was going on and finding it extremely hot.

“Tae no, you know I’m going out with Y/N” Jungkook said as the other guy moved around, seemingly placing a hand to his crotch in a playful manner, as far as the smirk in his face but obstruction of bodies allowed you to see from the door.

The guy’s eyes quickly turned to Jungkook in the biggest puppy stare you had ever seen, low voice above a whisper “Having someone around never stopped you before”

“Please”

A heavier moan escaped from Jungkook’s mouth, hands immediately locking the guy around him as he straddled his hips on the bed “Do you not love us anymore?”

Whether it was whatever that was going on inside between the two of them, or the mention of love, that made you forget your compromising position, getting the feeling that you should stop watching and panicky closed the door, making your presence known, the world may never know, but there were thousands of thoughts running in your mind. Sure, Jungkook had never put a label on your relationship, and from time to time you had believed that perhaps there was something beautiful there, now coming to think of it, maybe his heart had always been occupied, as all those friends of yours that knew him from somewhere had once said to you, how it was the weirdest thing out there watching 7 great looking guys hanging out as if they were on a date, the unusual way they carried around each other. Not that it was bad, but i crushed your heart to know that you would never fit in, as much as you kicked it off with Jungkook and the sex was amazing, the dynamic between them seemed to put you as just a plaything for the youngest of them all.

“Y/N? Jungkookie wants to have a talk with you” you didn’t even noticed the shift of your surrounding, knowing Jungkook, how he most probably bolted right out of the room when they heard the door close forcefully, too absorbed in your thoughts, still too absorbed in your thoughts as Hoseok led you back down, sitting you down a few feet away from where Jungkook was seated, the TV playing a random programme in the back “You two do your stuff, we’ll be outside, feel free to join, okay?”

The TV Show echoed in the dark, it seemed like it had been hours since you joined Jungkook in his living room, wanting nothing more than cross the door and never see him again, but he was a great kid, you knew just how much he would blame himself over what were your insecurities and inability to speak up on the matter, on never questioning what game you two were playing, sleeping around, going on dates but not getting involved. Until he was the first one to speak up.

“I am in a polyamorous relationship, Y/N” he heaved a sigh, as if the world was lifting from his shoulders “Have been for the last eight months”

Your heart sped up, the words unable to leave your lips, all tangled up on your brain “You should have told me before” you turned your face to where he was at the same time as he did the same “I would have understood”

“I don’t want to leave you”

“I know” which, you did know, time and time again he had made it clear that there was so much more to your relationship, although Jungkook wouldn’t express it out loud “I would love to have you… if there’s a way”

Jungkook’s doe eyes seemed to shine brighter at your words, although you could see tears forming in them “I don’t understand why would you want to be with someone like me”

“Jeon Jungkook” you scooted yourself to be closer to him, placing a delicate hand on his shoulder “Some people are so full of love they can give a way to a lot of people, I understand that” his eyes lighted up at your words, the tiniest bit of hope in them

A hand was placed on your shoulder, softly grabbing the exposed skin, making you turn your head to see Hoseok, shadows playing on his face as he smirked down at you “Plus, love will never be forever, might as well have seven plans ahead, right Y/N?”

You could feel a lump in your throat at that, images of what you had witnessed inside the bedroom with Jungkook and his friend still fresh in your mind, clearing your throat you hesitated “Uhm.. I really don’t know how to feel about all this Hoseok” but as soon as the words left your mouth you could see the rest of the boys joining the living room, as if you were some kind of prey you were after, the only source of light coming from the fairy lights in the backyard, illuminating them as they approached, hiding their true intentions in their eyes at the same time as their faces became darker, heart thumping inside your ribcage

“Oh come on, Y/N I saw you looking at Jungkookie and I outside our bedroom” Taehyung mentioned, which made you flush, fortunately going unnoticed by the lack of light, although he chuckled as he once again straddled Jungkook inches beside you, an all-too familiar image of the both of them as he grinded hard down on Jungkook’s crotch, earning him a groan from the youngest “Seemed to me you were enjoying it a bit too much”

A firm hand underneath your chin turned you to face upwards by the slightest, a face that took you seconds to recognise as Yoongi’s too close to yours, grazing his lips with yours before he tutted and added a “Good girls are meant to share their toys Y/N” for good measure.

“Jungkookie here practically gave you up before asking you to join us” Jimin added as he took a sit beside you, body clinging to Yoongi who was still too close to you

“I just-” you turned your face to Jungkook, who was currently busy with his mouth all over Taehyung and Hoseok, both on each side of him as they seemed to get an equal amount of attention from the youngest, your lower abdomen firing up at the image and the prospect of you taking part in the dynamic “I guess it doesn’t really sound so bad”

“Even Seokjin is willing to give you a taste” spoke Namjoon as he walked into the area with Seokjin just inches behind him, nodding his head when you locked eyes with the eldest “But I bet you’ll be Yoongi-hyung’s favourite”

“It’s your turn to call the shots, Y/N”

Instead of a response, you pull on Jimin’s shirt until he leans onto you, capturing you lips in his in a kiss that seems to last just seconds before he is placing you on top of him, allowing Yoongi to take you previous spot, caressing you side so when you lean back to catch a breath, his mouth is on yours stealing your breath away; out of the corner of your eye you watch as Hoseok has his hand inside Jungkook’s pants “Sharing is caring, Yoongi” you remind him as he tries to have a second go, Jimin’s laughter underneath you hitting the right places as he frictions his front side up to you, earning a soft moan from your lips, which only turns to a second one when you feel two wet mouths on each side of your jaw, gently nibbling on the skin before they stopped to kiss right in front of you, tongues catching, groans escaping from each of Seokjin and Namjoon throat before they turned to look at you and retrieved to their original spot to entertain themselves.

“As much as I’d love to take her, I think it’s best if we let Jungkook welcome her into our dynamic” a soft laugh falls from Jimin’s lips as you quietly gasp when he places you on the couch, an awaiting Jungkook on your side, the blond man taking his turn with Yoongi a few inches away.

Jungkook’s eyes seem dazed, and he quickly finds your mouth, just the way he did all those times before, except that now it was somewhat different from them, in a room full of people, his boyfriends, yours soon to be; as he absentmindedly tongues your bottom lip to deepen the kiss, a single hand slides underneath the fabric of your shirt as the other grips around your thigh, slowly working its way to where you could already feel your panties dampening. Fingers dancing familiarly over your nipples, “God I don’t know what I’d have done if you said no to this”, you barely register his words so you just nod in agreement, desperately wanting him to touch you where you needed the most. Warm fingers find your folds, stroking them slowly, squelching sounds that somehow don't seem to phase the way the rest of the group keeps on having their tongues deep down on someone elses throat, changing partners everytime you look up. The tips of his fingers find your entrance, slowly working a pace in and out, pairing it with wet kissed to your exposed neck as you try and hold on to his shirt for dear life “You’re so wet already”

His fingers pick up speed, barely curling into that soft spot inside you. Hips lifting slightly as your head lulls back against his shoulder, peaking both Jimin and Yoongi’s interest from beside you, a clear interest in the action if the way their pants seem to grow tighter by the second “Hey baby, is Jungkookie making you feel good?” voice raspy, dark, but soft lips on your own as the youngest kept his pace with his fingers, stretching you open on the couch.

“She sounds so sweet I can’t wait to taste her” Yoongi adds as his hand reaches out inside Jimin’s pants, starting to stroke his member to life. And that’s when you see it. Namjoon and Seokjin, ever so reserved, in their own little world, sitting across from all the action, hands on each other’s bulge, not daring to look away from you. And it somehow stirs you in all the right places, mind set already on giving them the best show ever.

Hands cup your breasts from behind you, softly massaging them, feather like kisses on the back of your neck as your shirt is lifted, bra forgotten and your tits are free for everyone in the room to watch and enjoy, a voice behind you, owner of the hands pinching your nipples whispering in your ear “I’m willing to forgive you interrupting quality time with Kookie”

You feel a pinching in your clit joining Jungkook’s fingers pistoning into you, making you reach your orgasm in record time in a broken mess of calling out Jungkook’s name. Hoseok’s instantly reaching for the waistband of your panties to pull them down “Well I’d say, dinner’s served,Yoongi-hyung” before said man is leaning forward, Yoongi’s hands exchanging Jimin’s cock for your knees – holding your legs open. Yoongi’s tongue takes a bold lick over your slit before he’s diving in, lips attaching to your clit as the tip of his tongue flicks against it. Hoseok’s chin is rested on your shoulder,ocassionaly opening up your outer lips to allow the elder a deeper access to your cunt, watching Yoongi’s tongue fuck into you. You could feel Taehyung’s thick length pressed into your lower back, the slow lift of his hips dragging it against you. Soft groans from the friction falling from his lips, mixing with the husky moans that echo from around the room as everyone watched Yoongi intently. Your eyes find Seokjin and Namjoon across the room, both of whom have since pulled their cocks from behind their pants, glistening tips on full display as their large hands stroke over the base of each other, their hips moving to match the movement of their hands.

The tongue between your legs moves swiftly, pushing past your folds and slipping into your entrance, lapping up the juices from your past orgasm as Hoseok leans down to share a wet kiss with him, then Jungkook, the three of them tasting you on their tongues. As Yoongi returns to his spot between your legs, he moans against your core like the taste of you is the most delicious thing to ever hit his tongue, the sound sending vibrations through your body that has your cunt tingling, not far from your next release. “Aah- Yoongi” you gasp, reaching down to tangle your fingers in his hair, pushing his face further between your legs.

“You gonna cum all over my tongue, huh?” his movements intensify, nose pressed against your clit, rubbing it precisely as it makes you fall apart in a rush of desperate pleas before he removes himself from his position, chin covered in your juices to which you can’t help but moan at the sight of as he licks his lips in delight. His lips capture yours once he’s on your eye level, hand set on the back of your head to keep you still, mouth instantly flooded with your taste, pulling away with fiery eyes and a smirk. “Joon was right, you’re gonna be my favourite”

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makeste · 4 years

Text

save no matter what.

so this is going to ultimately be a post about Deku. however, if you’ll be so kind as to indulge me, I would like to start things off by making a point about Bakugou. specifically, I’d like to point out that back in the day before this kid got Character Development no Jutsu’d, people weren’t always so inclined to view his attitude towards winning in the best light. which is a nice way of saying that he came off as unhealthily obsessed, not to mention more than a little unhinged.

sorry for the image spam btw, I just think they’re funny. he’s so demented lmao. KILL DIE CRUSH.

anyway so we’re gonna do the rest of this below a cut before it gets long. but I promise it really is a Deku post lol. don’t let the pre-readmore stuff fool you. I PROMISE THERE IS A POINT, AND WE WILL GET TO IT.

anyway! so yeah, we really didn’t have the best impression of Bakugou’s whole winning fixation at the beginning there. and I mean, it’s not like we had the best impression of Bakugou himself at the start of things either. we were already primed from the very first chapter to see this kid as an adversary to Izuku. the story goes out of its way to paint him in pretty much the worst light possible. which is why what happens next is so interesting.

because one might see all this and think, “holy heck, this kid is off the shits, somebody needs to set him straight pronto and get it into his head that winning isn’t everything.” because that’s almost the natural conclusion to draw. “look at this kid, he doesn’t care about helping other people at all, all he cares about is winning, someone needs to come along and show him that he’s got it backwards.”

except that’s not what happens, is it? because this is where, much to my delight, Horikoshi came along and started subverting expectations. because not only is Katsuki not rebuked for being so obsessed with winning -- it’s pretty much the exact opposite.

the one and only time Deku ever straight up hands Katsuki’s ass to him is when he says he doesn’t want to win. Deku is IMMEDIATELY all, “THE FUCK KIND OF BULLSHIT DID I JUST HEAR OUT OF YOUR TRASH MOUTH,” and that’s when he sets him straight.

the important people in Katsuki’s life never tell him, “hey you need to cool it with the whole winning thing.” All Might and Aizawa never scold him for it, or tell him that he shouldn’t try with everything he has to win, or that wanting to win is a bad thing. on the contrary, they both commend him for it. and ultimately, he’s told by All Might that this desire is actually one of the two fundamental qualities that every great hero needs.

he completely turns the whole thing on its head. not only is it not a bad thing, it’s actually crucial. essential. because what the desire to win really is, at its core, is tenacity. it’s the fiercest kind of determination. it’s not something he should be ashamed of; it’s something that sets him apart, something that makes him worthy. he is someone who refuses to back down no matter what. refuses to give up, no matter what. and this quality, which is initially misunderstood by some to the point where even the villains mistakenly take him for one of their own in the making, is eventually validated to the fullest degree by the person that Katsuki looks up to the most. his desire to win goes from being this awkward “son wtf are you doing” thing to being one of the core philosophies of the series. and ever since then, we pretty much don’t question it.

so why do I bring this up now? well, the answer to that can basically be summed up in one word.

“parallels.”

so here’s the thing. there’s been a lot of talk lately about Deku’s ridiculous, reckless, and absurdly self-destructive desire to save others while having little to no regard for himself. currently he’s lying in a hospital bed, having broken approximately 218 out of the 206 bones in his little hero body (yes, somewhere along the way he found an additional dozen bones to break). it is worrying. it is Concerning. and it’s raised a lot of questions, such as “???” and “wtf is this idiot doing.”

and a lot of people have been pretty critical of him! this is, of course, an ongoing thing with this child, and people have been giving him grief over it going as far back as chapter 6.

while others have been bothered by it going even further back than that.

and I’ve seen these sentiments being echoed pretty frequently in the fandom as well. and there are basically two talking points that I want to address here. the first is the idea that Deku’s aggressive brand of selflessness stems from an inherent lack of self-worth. in other words, because he prioritizes other people’s safety and well-being above his own, and is willing to go to such drastic lengths to save them, there’s this feeling that he doesn’t value himself enough, that he must not care about himself.

but I don’t think that’s quite it. let’s go back to those parallels first, though. let’s take another look at Kacchan.

what I mainly want to call attention to is the intensity here. again, it’s something that at first strikes most readers as being absurdly over the top. the truth is, I think a lot of people simply can’t relate to it. Katsuki cares about winning with a ferocity and a fervor that most people, for better or worse, simply don’t have. I certainly don’t, lol.

but he does. to him it’s not a shallow, superficial thing at all. it’s important to him, perhaps the most important thing. I think we often talk about it in terms of it being a desire, but imo a more accurate way to define it is not as a want, but as a need. in other words, it’s the opposite of the question “what is it this character wants” (i.e. “what is it they can’t live without”)? instead, it’s a question of “what is it they don’t want” (i.e. “what is it they can’t live with”)?

and in Katsuki’s case, the thing he can’t live with is feeling like he hasn’t tried his absolute best. he needs to give his all in everything he does. he wants to win, but winning just on its own is not enough.

it has to be earned. he has to prove to himself and to everyone else that he deserves it. anything less than that is unacceptable. anything less than that, and he can’t be at ease. he can’t be settled. he can’t rest. and so he puts everything he has into winning, even if it means going to extremes. because it’s that important to him.

it’s something that’s at times alarming and even disturbing for others to witness. but nonetheless, it’s a part of who he is, and at the end of the day his teachers accept that, and the story acknowledges that it’s his greatest strength.

so now, to finally bring this back around to Deku, this is what I keep seeing in his character as well. only in his case, the thing he can’t live with is knowing that he didn’t do everything he possibly could to save someone. or to put it another way, Deku, at his core, is someone who cannot rest until he knows that everyone is safe. simple as that. it’s not just a desire to protect people; it’s a need. he needs to know that everyone is safe and protected. otherwise he can’t be at ease. it’s no different from how normal, everyday people aren’t able to feel at ease unless they know that they are safe and that their loved ones are safe. it’s just that in Deku’s case, this same fundamental need extends to everyone, not just himself and his friends and family. everyone. he can’t live with himself knowing that someone was in trouble, and he had the ability to do something to help, but didn’t. and so, if you literally can’t live with not doing something, you basically have no choice but to do it.

and this is what in my opinion defines Deku’s character. Kacchan, in trying to understand it, noted that Deku doesn’t seem to take himself into account. but I think OFA Prime summed it up a little more accurately. “he rages for the sake of others. for them, he does his best until he can do no more. this young man is possessed by a drive to save others that eclipses all common understanding.”

so yeah. it’s not that he doesn’t care about himself at all, it’s that he cares about others even more. he has that same intensity and ferocity towards saving people that Katsuki has towards winning. and just as it was difficult at first for fans to understand Katsuki’s feelings, it’s hard to fathom the sheer depth of that “save everyone” feeling that compels Deku to break his own body in that pursuit. it’s scary, not to mention extremely destructive and dangerous. and so really, it was almost inevitable that there would be some backlash.

but just like Katsuki’s desire to win was ultimately validated in the end, I think Deku’s desire to save others will be as well. in fact it already is being validated, for starters by the other denizens of OFA, led by Lil Bro as mentioned above. let’s go back for a moment to that same scene.

here we get a huge hint that “Deku gets taken down a notch and chewed out and scolded for his recklessness” is not, in fact, the direction that the story is going in. because in general, when the main villain starts mocking the hero and saying that they’ve done something wrong, that’s a very good sign that said hero is actually on the exact right track. like, no offense, but as far as character critiques go, AFO is probably the least qualified person in the entire manga to start offering those up lol. so yeah. if AFO is denouncing Deku for something, and OFA Prime is praising him for that exact same thing, I think it’s safe to say that means he is in fact doing something very, very right.

“okay but makeste, he nearly got himself killed and broke all of his arms AND legs and is now lying in a fucking coma,” you say, gesturing emphatically to the last page of chapter 298. “so I mean, that’s all well and good that Wonder Boy has the best of intentions and all that, but at the end of the day he’s only one kid. he literally can’t save everyone, and if he pulls one or two more stunts like this, he’s going to get himself killed.”

and okay, but this here is the other talking point that I wanted to address. because it’s true, Deku does need to learn a specific lesson here. but that lesson is NOT that he can’t save everyone. this is a superhero story, guys -- “you can’t save everyone” is never going to be the underlying message, ever. it’s the OPPOSITE of the message. Deku is the hero because he tries to save everyone. because he doesn’t give up on saving people no matter what. that is literally the core of the story. it has been since the very first chapter.

so then what is it that Deku actually needs to learn here? well, once again, it all comes back to those parallels.

btw, I really just love how he’s carrying Katsuki there lol. he’s just so done with him.

but anyway. so, the final exam arc. Katsuki initially wants to win at all costs -- but there’s a hitch. because even though he wants to win, he refuses to do so while working with Deku. enter Deku’s left hook, and one impromptu Rival Encouragement Speech later, our boy has thankfully come to his senses.

but here’s the point -- the lesson here wasn’t “you can’t always win.” rather, the lesson that Katsuki needed to learn was that you can’t always win alone.

yeah. so now you can see what I’m getting at here.

“...on your own.”

that’s the key. this is the one and only thing that Deku actually needs to get into his head. wanting to save everyone is fine! his will to save others has never been a weakness -- it’s been the most admirable thing about him from day one. it’s what makes him strong. it’s why All Might chose him. it’s why OFA has chosen him. it’s what sets him apart, and I firmly believe it’s what will ultimately help him save the day and defeat AFO as well. because what other character would look at Shigaraki Tomura, the person who just impaled his friend and destroyed an entire city, and instinctively reach out a hand to try and save him? and if you don’t think that’s going to wind up being key to the final battle, you and I have very different ideas about this series’ endgame.

Deku’s determination to save everyone isn’t arrogance or futility. it is and always has been his greatest strength. but what he’s missing now, what he needs to learn, is simply to trust. y’all might have seen that theory about the Fourth’s quirk, and why All Might was so hesitant to tell Deku about it. basically, the theory (which is based on an attempted translation of the crossed-out parts of All Might’s OFA notebook) goes that the Spidey Sense was so overwhelming that the Fourth -- whose cause of death was one of the things crossed out -- eventually couldn’t bear it, and went to live alone in the middle of the woods somewhere. and possibly wound up killing himself?? all of which is just speculation right now of course. but it makes sense. and it would certainly explain why All Might, being all too aware of Deku’s self-destructive tendencies, would keep that from him.

but if this is the case, that means it’s clear that the Fourth’s solution didn’t work. “give up and accept that you can’t save everyone” clearly is NOT the answer to be had here.

the answer is trust. trust that his fellow heroes have his back. trust that they’ll be able to help him reach the people he’s not able to reach on his own. trust that they can work together to save everyone. that he doesn’t have to rest the entire world on his shoulders alone.

it’s the one lesson that All Might, his predecessor and his teacher, never learned himself until it was too late. but of course, All Might never had a prickly and determined rival who was ready to step in and deal out some tough love if need be. a rival who, perhaps, just might soon get a chance to repay an old favor.

“I don’t wanna hear you say you can’t save someone.”

I’m just saying. just as Deku has been watching Katsuki all this time, and admiring his determination to win, and emulating it himself, so has Katsuki recently begun to emulate Deku’s determination to save others. we’ve seen it not just in his recent act of self-sacrifice, but even in little things like his habits and tricks of speech. just like Katsuki is Deku’s image of victory, Deku is becoming Katsuki’s image of saving others.

and so I’ll bet you anything that if Deku ever starts to doubt himself, or starts feeling like his dream and desires are futile, Kacchan will be there to set him straight with a good old fashioned Rival Encouragement Speech of his own. possibly with his own left hook to match, though his left shoulder is currently out of sorts atm so he might need to modify that approach a little bit. but the point is, he’ll be there. and he will not allow Deku to give up on himself. he will be there to remind him that he doesn’t have to face this alone.

so yeah! finally managed to wrap up my giant Deku meta which I’ve been working on for ages and rewritten like fifteen times lmao. just in time for this to be relevant for all of a day, probably, depending on what happens once chapter 279 drops lol. but yeah. tl;dr, local boy tries to do too much, but his heart is in the right place, and hopefully all he really needs is a good pep talk from his tsundere bff to set him to rights again. r.i.p. to the Fourth, but he’s different.

#bnha 298 #midoriya izuku #bakugou katsuki #bakudeku #bnha meta #deku meta #bakugou meta #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #makeste reads bnha

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persephoneyss · 3 years

Text

Fool.

Pairing: jeon jungkook x f!reader.

Genre: Yandere, dark themes, heartbreak, office au.

Summary: ❝The fool is one who rests dreaming of doing things beyond his reach, instead of making it come true, pathetic.❞

Warnings: Yandere behavior, obsession, stalking / harassment, quite a bit of voyeurism, implicit murder, naming of non-consensual sex, forced pregnancy, somnophilia, jk drug a reader, extremely complicated relationships, sexual tension between mxm characters, naming of homosexual relations mxm.

Number of words: 5000+

︙ Author's note: My second fic here, thank you very much for all the support you gave to the first one. Enjoy!

(Sorry for any mistakes, my first language is not English and I am not fluent either.)

Puedes leer este fic y más aquí en español.

They say, out there, that monotony is boring.

What everyone vaguely forgot, is that we live in it. It is an endless loop between what we do, and what we want.

So, nobody wanted to change it.

Jungkook lived in a routine. He liked his personal independence and, likewise, he never changed anything in his life. He was a man of habit, worthy of admiration and imitation. But he never considered himself capable of guiding someone as his own person, he just seemed boring to him.

Perhaps his complexity of seeing things in different ways was what made him such a genius.

People who break with the custom or the conventional can be called differently in the eyes of everyone, crazy or genius. Jungkook considered himself to be in the middle of both terms. He was madly in love with his genius.

But nobody said that love was for everyone, Jungkook was also in love with another person that he considered that he was worthy of his love, the obsessive and sick, misunderstood love of him.

Jungkook was a genius, but he never wanted money wasting his time on useless things like building an empire and being a millionaire. He looked at other directions in life. His salary was minimal, he worked hard under Kim Taehyung's whip. His boss was successful, just as he has imagined since he saw him go by one fall day.

He couldn't remember the date, but he knew it was fall. The cool breeze was a seal of love.

The clumsy little Jungkook, always with his head down looking for a chance at life. When he could have anything he wanted with his inner genius. The porcelain cup swayed in his hand, watching people rush past, just as he thought it would, everyone had their own business in this time of change. Taehyung really fell from the sky like an angel, or that's what he wanted to remember the day he watched him pass a coffee shop with his phone in hand ordering a cold American coffee even though the wind was blowing strongly in the streets. Jungkook watched him fervently, he was enigmatic and undoubtedly managed to get his attention almost immediately. His tall, firm figure made her want to clench her thighs.

His father always told her that pleasure was fun on unfortunate occasions.

Perhaps because of that, he took enormous pleasure in seeing Taehyung walking close to him.

He felt, in a disgusting way, good about himself. It was as if just by looking at his face and his dark eyes, he would manage to make her cum on his pants. Jungkook searched for him for days, until in an insignificant magazine, which he found by chance, he read about one of the most sought-after businessmen in the nation. Much money, and above all an elegant demeanor. They were the perfect combination to create someone like Kim Taehyung, however, Jungkook missed everything when he saw a photo of his beloved unknown to him.

It was a matter of time. He now named himself to be an excellent worker, always by Taehyung's side wherever he went, he felt euphoric just hearing him say his name with his voice so silent. His personal secretary was jealous of him, she even insulted him for a simple smile that young Jeon showed her. She obviously was fired from her, she being replaced by Mrs. Jang who was an older woman, married with two children.

However, no one ever noticed or simply turned a deaf ear to Jungkook's constant provocations towards the former secretary, just as her mocking smiles seemed to be ignored by conveniently blind eyes.

Jungkook was a man who knew how to play. He loved being the mouse for Taehyung, getting caught up in his whims. But he loved even more being the cat marrying the prey.

And just when he could already feel himself on top of the iceberg, almost close to touching his beloved boss. You arrived. You were an intern, nothing special considering that thousands came every year and you didn't have a permanent position unless you did your job well. Jungkook didn't even notice your presence, not for a year. Mrs. Jang sick from one day to the next, Taehyung had a considerable appreciation for her so she did not take away his job. Only covered it with a temporary vacation.

Jungkook was used to walking into his boss's office being greeted by the harsh but sweet voice of the older woman. But his steps seemed to stop in automatic mode when he heard your voice, it was sweet after sweet. His gaze fell quickly on your figure, you were ethereal, with a hint of mischief that he noticed, questioning if your perfect form was normal to see in a person.

And ironically, he proclaimed you a beautiful and heavenly Angel.

His heart pounded when you seemed to notice his presence, your eyes fell on his face in confusion. Jungkook bit his lip, his breath caught and unconsciously, he clenched his thighs to cover his growing erection. He thought he looked ridiculous standing in front of you without saying anything.

He felt strangely pathetic next to you.

"Who are you? Where is Mrs. Jang?" He asked defensively, surprising your innocent figure. But you never let your guard down.

"I'm sorry, but I'm only a substitute until Mrs. Jang manages to recover. Can I help you with something?"

Jungkook frowned, but only managed to nod with no idea what to do. He took a few steps back, realizing that he had invaded your personal space and cornered you between him and your desk. Anyone who saw them would think that they were close and even that they were having a lovers' quarrel.

I didn't want that. Taehyung was close to being his.

Jungkook looked at you with disdain, you were like a viper trying to tempt his masculine weakness.

But I am not unaware of the fact that I could smell your perfume of roses and vanilla. He was offended that Taehyung will not tell him that he is against someone young again. For a moment he feared that you would steal his position as his boss's right hand man, but that would be ridiculous. Thought. Taehyung was happy by his side, he appreciates him like a ... Little brother. He was trusted.

Nobody said Lucifer couldn't be a woman ...

The next few days weren't any better. Jungkook had his eyes glued to you at all times, counting the minutes when Taehyung called you at his office. How long will it take to leave from your entrance. And when it seemed like too long, he knocked on the door pretending to bring some important documents to sign. I could see you, when you were near your boss you had your head lowered. You were a submissive to him.

Jungkook felt envious, and far beyond, in a reprehensible jealousy of Taehyung. You never lowered your head when he came to greet you every day, nor when he ordered you to bring him a coffee and even less when he tried to embarrass you in front of the other people in the office.

But without a doubt, Jungkook came to hate you more than anyone in his monotonous life. You were a thief to him, you did your job so flawlessly that Taehyung had no choice but to give you the job of secretary. Your secretary. A smile was what adorned your lips every day, Jungkook cursed you a million different times.

You were a competition on their way to the heart of your beloved and perfect boss.

Nothing really changed after your acceptance as a secretary. Jungkook was cruelly trying to ignore you, but you never said anything to him or gave him a sign that he will affect you. Maybe deep down, I expected to see you destroyed by her rejection. Possibly, he thought ironically that he would seek him out asking forgiveness for any mistake you have made for such contempt, seeking to be to his liking again. However, nothing changed for you, you greet him politely, always with that charming look and smile of yours. Just like every day.

Then Jungkook did what seemed the least complicated to him.

He slowly gave up, walking straight to your table to start a conversation every morning, this time, ignoring calls from his boss needing him.

Taehyung was perfect. He put it on a pedestal, admiring its beauty every day as if it were a God.

But with you it was different. You weren't a Goddess to him, that would be stupid. For Jungkook to have you by his side, it was like giving him the privilege of being born again. You were more than his love, you were his life.

Jungkook lived for you. I existed to watch you, love you, make you happy. In its twisted and sick reality, everything you did revolved around his discretion. For he should always have been like that. Taehyung was nothing more than a cruel and beautiful distraction that fate put on him, proving his loyalty to you. Unfortunately he fell into it. His heart felt heavy in his chest, thinking of how long you must have been waiting for him. You must have been alone all that time.

Jungkook cried for you.

"Good morning, Jungkook-ah" Your voice, again.

His gaze was lost on your face. You were the most beautiful thing he had seen in his miserable years of life. He wondered if you, too, could feel his appreciation for you, or could you hear his rampant heartbeat.

Almost unconsciously, like the first time he clenched his thighs biting his lips to avoid being tempted to look past your fragile face. He had never been able to look at your body in a dirty way, but he did not deny wanting to do so. So he did it. His eyes inspected all of you, drinking in your sensuality as if you were a glass of water in front of him. Under your neck that was proud, you had a small necklace with your name written on it hanging and shining beautifully. Your collarbones rose beautifully, Jungkook felt an unreadable desire to want to bite the soft flesh of your neck leaving its marks on it as a sign that you were his. Only from him. Your white shirt was buttoned making a pout to form on her face, I wanted to see what color bra you were wearing that day. Maybe you were wearing something sexier under that stupid uniform, I guess you were ready for him, with some hidden lingerie, tempting him to take you to a bathroom in the building and fuck you foolishly while saying you were his over and over again.

"Are you feeling okay Jungkook-ah?" His gaze followed your body, which rose from your seat to approach him. For a moment he thought he could see your thighs protrude from the black fabric of your skirt that clung exquisitely to your body. His mind created thousands of scenarios where he would remove that garment to make you feel good, hitting you with his cock mercilessly.

Maybe I would let you touch it under the table at employee meetings that were held every week, if you let it mark your entire body with bites and bruises.

"You seem distressed, let me see if you have a fever." You say, without even realizing how his eyes are resting solely on your lips that he was dying to kiss and bite at will.

Jungkook knew that if he touched it, it would be the end. His cock stood up proudly creating a tent in his pants, he was grateful that you were so clueless that you never noticed that small but big problem. His eyes squeezed shut and his hand squeezed his crotch, he hunched over so you wouldn't notice he was coming into his pants with your gentle, harmless touch.

"I'm so sorry! Did I hurt you?" You asked again, even more concerned than before.

Jungkook smiled, trying to breathe normally again. Really naive.

He made fun of you, he liked to play pretend to be the mouse just like with Taehyung. In front of you, he was a sweet and gentle man.

It was fun trying to keep his intentions true, but clearly this was starting to get tedious.

A week had passed since the incident, that day he had to ask permission pretending to be sick in order to go home.

You had been worried about his condition, thinking that you could have helped him. That same night, you called his phone wishing him well soon and apologizing once again.

You were never smart enough to notice that Jungkook had his hand inside his pants touching hard just hearing your soft voice saying how sorry you were, you sounded so weak and vulnerable to him. He dreamed of hearing you again, this time begging for him to make you cum on him a thousand times, he knew you would be perfect for his big cock. Taking him like a big girl, like her perfect little one.

Jungkook was a greedy person. Below being a caring and kind man, he was selfish with his desires. He got bored seeing you for so little time during the day, it seemed as if you ran away from him when you left the large company building. Perhaps it was his greed that led him and condemned you to follow you every day, treading closely in your footsteps.

You lived in a small apartment complex, your house had one bedroom and one bathroom. Jungkook thought it was essential for you, you earned almost the same as him and you were certainly a practical person. Making him fall in love with you even more, he felt identified in a funny way. Ironic. When your figure was lost inside your apartment he felt furious, he could not help feeling angry for not being able to see more of you.

But his eyes noticed almost immediately that your apartment had a window, one that just faced another in front of the neighboring building. An enormous satisfaction invaded him. He collected as much money as he could, managing to raise two months of rent for the apartment in front of yours. That would be enough until he would bring you to his feet, and then he would move in with you living together as a normal couple. The man who owns the building was surprised by the persistent attitude of the young man in renting a specific apartment. But he quickly forgot about it when he saw the money in his hand.

"I hope you are not bothered by the noises, the walls are thin and there could be problems with that." The owner babbled, explaining and talking about things that honestly didn't matter to him as long as he could be around you.

Jungkook watched your apartment from the window, the window looked directly into your room. He felt a smile grow on his face, he could see your perfectly arranged bed and the products on your dressing table. Mentally he wrote down all the marks, he had become obsessed with your smell. Wanting to imitate everything about you as much as possible, he even followed you to the mall to see where you always bought your clothes. He began to wear the same brand of clothing, the same style and in the same way, your personal things. Like your skincare products, even your lipstick.

Their love had now turned into a sinister game of catching the helpless mouse. He followed you day and night, it was only a matter of time before you were at his feet begging not to be eaten by the evil cat.

You never liked the night blanket, you felt that the worst things could happen in the dark of one night. Your steps were hurried, you constantly felt a presence following your weak form knowing that you would do nothing to stop it. You were not capable. You only got to feel calm and let out a sigh when you got to your little house, it was cozy for just one person. You liked it, it had a unique charm. Your shoes fell to the ground, as did your coat and bag. You were exhausted, Taehyung was not the best boss. He seemed to have an obsession with making you run around for coffee or a simple napkin.

Secretly, it was obnoxious.

"You're here, little one ..." a voice whispered, watching you from a camera lens.

I had bought a whole spy gear, between cameras, lenses and more just to see you, possibly to take some photos as a souvenir as well. Jungkook smiled, biting his lip impatiently. He had arrived at his department at the same time as you, but his work was not finished yet, not until you lay on your bed turning off the light and preventing him from seeing you any longer. "Good girl." His eyes never left your figure, the first garment fell to the ground.

You had a habit of going straight to the bathroom to relax for a few minutes after a tiring day. You were not yet aware that dark brown eyes were watching you from afar. Jungkook had adorable eyes according to many, they were like those of a defenseless and tender deer, but they would surely change their opinion if they knew what he does and sees with them.

"_____..." Your name left his lips in a moan, his face heated feeling his cock grow slowly at the sight of your naked body so exciting, you walked to the bathroom, losing his sight. But his imagination did the rest.

He sat in front of his camera, pulling down his pants along with his boxer shorts releasing his cock that rose proudly, crashing against his stomach. The presemen came out of his reddened tip, he moved his hand using it as a lubricant to be able to touch himself, imagining that you were looking at him too, calling him and begging him to come to your house to be able to fuck you in your bed. Your neighbors probably wouldn't like the noise. But I would still screw you so they can hear who made you feel good. Who you belonged to.

Just those thoughts was enough for him to come all over his hand, staining his stomach and part of the ground. His chest rose and fell with a laugh. It sure was pathetic.

But now I felt like I had some kind of power over you. Maybe it was always like that, you were his from the day you greeted him for the first time. He refused to think that you could see him cheated on with his boss. It was ridiculous, you clearly loved him.

So, for Jungkook you were his lovers in body and soul.

He could and had the power to do whatever he wanted with you. Taehyung walked in front of him, but for the first time in two years he didn't feel happy or euphoric to see him, and less excited.

He also didn't feel different when he called him into his office.

"Sit down Mr. Jeon, I have some business to attend to with you."

He obeyed immediately, realizing that even he had a power over his weak form. No one was superior to the great Taehyung.

Ironically. He likes irony.

"Lately I was going through the files of my employees and noticed something very unique." He spoke fully focused on his speech, Jungkook felt uncomfortable under his dark and empty gaze. "You have been working here for more than two years without taking a vacation or leaving your position something very exceptional and admirable. Thank you very much for your commitment to us, Mr. Jeon."

A sigh left his lips, he wondered vaguely why his breathing seemed to fail thinking that they could fire him. That would be terribly chaotic, it could not be close to you if it were to be roofed by the company.

It was a relief for him and a condemnation for you.

"It really isn't important, Chief Kim. I will continue to do my job fervently and do my best." He responded with a smile and a bow, trying to get out as soon as possible. He wanted to see you and Taehyung was starting to make him more nervous than usual, he felt that characteristic feeling of having damn butterflies fluttering in his stomach.

He felt like vomiting.

"That seems incredible to me, I would like to celebrate your great achievements. You think if after work, I can buy you a... a drink." He offered remarkably animated.

Funny, he had never been interested in doing that even when Jungkook followed him around like a puppy seeking approval. Did change something now? "I think it would be fair."

Everyone fully says that Lucifer is a man, Eve was very tempted by the apple of sin ...

"I would be delighted, only if I can bring one more person. He is someone important to me, and I would like him to celebrate in the same way." Jungkook smiled, he was delighted.

Taehyung looked surprised, genuinely surprised. But still, he managed to maintain his composure. "Of course, it would be a pleasure to meet that special person to you. You can go now."

Jungkook nodded, giving another bow and walking patiently to the door.

Taehyung watched his figure get lost, he felt strangely curious. He had never seen Jungkook interested in anything other than his job. However, now he spoke of someone special in his life. He frowned, searching his desk for the keys to his drawer hidden from anyone.

It was a bit personal.

He opened it, taking out the only thing inside. A red letter, the envelope was charming and eye-catching. He remembered it just like that day, Jungkook kneeling on the floor of his office where silence reigned. I knew that little Jeon waited for everyone to leave so he could confess, he said nothing at all, his gaze on the ground and his hands held the letter in the air hoping that he would take it.

He never read it.

But he knew it was a confession of his unforgivable love, that Jungkook would think he could fire him for something so heinous. But it was never necessary, he never read the letter so there was never a mistake on anyone's part. But now he was curious.

Maybe jealousy, he wanted to have power over everyone within his company and if a puppet left his strings, it would be like losing power over everyone.

He was lost so much in his misery that he did not notice that you had entered without permission, you were in a hurry because he answered a call from an investor from China that you could not wait for him to answer.

"Mr. Kim, you have a call ..."

Business dinners were boring for you, you knew it was just a stupid look covering up a night in a restaurant where they met to drink as much alcohol as they could. Especially men, according to your criteria. You didn't feel comfortable being the third person on a date between a boss and an important employee. However, I politely accept Mr. Jeon's invitation.

You looked for the table, where dinner and a toast to all the achievements of the aforementioned was supposed to take place. It was one number in particular, table 69.

"Miss _____..." Jungkook was the first to get up from his place to say hello. Taehyung stayed still in his seat, not even looking up from his wine glass. "Have a seat please welcome."

You felt uncomfortable, again. You were the third wheel on a date of two, to say you were a hindrance was to be a joker. Your chair was closer to Jungkook, as if your boss wanted not to be near you by mistake.

"Do you want to order something? Some wine?" Jungkook seemed strangely nervous, as well as attentive to any of your movements.

As if he were afraid of something certainly improbable.

"A-water is fine, thanks." You whisper overwhelmed by so much attention from one person. His hands seemed to shake as he got up from his seat running to bring your precious order.

Taehyung looked at everything with skeptical eyes. He was an observer. His gaze fell on your clothes, you weren't necessarily wearing something revealing or provocative to have so much attention from his former platonic lovers. You were dressed in a black skirt, a honey colored blouse and a white scarf along with some black shoes. You looked comfortable with your clothes, but quite the opposite with the situation and the environment.

Jungkook was dumb. Very silly, he thought, reading your thoughts. You clearly weren't interested in him and still, he was struggling to get your approval as if you were better than Taehyung.

Did you even think about what you were so valuable?

Your name left his lips, drawing your attention right away. "Bored?" His question surprised you, perhaps he was more than observant.

"No, no ..." You reply nervously, waving your hands in the air to give yourself more credibility. "I just think I'm not the most appropriate person to take this place at this dinner. It's weird."

"I get it. You are nobody, just an employee trying to do your job ... not impressive, by the way." Your face was distorted, you were not the most correct person in a matter of manners but you were sure that that was completely offensive and rude. Your inner voice whispered for you to leave, it wasn't worth it. "You are free to go, I will tell Mr. Jeon that you felt bad and had an emergency."

Doubt grew within you. Right now you felt that everything that came out of his mouth was trying to attack you and hurt you in some way. You frowned, refusing to indulge in his game. To say that Taehyung was surprised was an understatement.

"I'm fine, but thank you Mr. Kim."

"Listen damned-..."

Jungkook returned to his place sitting next to you, Taehyung closed his mouth automatically fearing the worst of him. The glass of crystal clear water sat in front of you, it seemed as if it had searched for simple water for days when only a few minutes passed. He looked eager for you to bring him to your lips and drink from something brought by him.

It was terrifying.

Your hand refused to take the glass, your conscience screamed uncontrollably for you to drop it on the floor pretending to have an accident. It was a horribly euphoric feeling. When the water wet your tongue you felt dizzy, your nerves calmed down noticeably.

It was just water.

Jungkook kept smiling the entire dinner, talking about things you honestly didn't understand. It was as if he and Taehyung had a special language to speak to each other, one in which you weren't welcome.

"It feels good?" Your vision became blurry, you had drunk half a glass of wine but your head felt like a whirlpool. Strangely familiar. Your mouth suddenly felt dry, your breath failed and your eyes surrendered.

Jungkook screamed in horror when your body fell to the ground, Taehyung smugly watched as the people around you tried to get up scared by your state. He did not care much about me, nor did it affect him that Jungkook went with you to a hospital. He just sat there, finishing his glass of wine and his special dish. Curious eyes watched them intrigued.

A truly unique man.

Your head rested calmly on his shoulder, he finally smiled away from the pressure of the people in the restaurant. You seemed so peaceful with your steady breathing and calm rhythm, you were so close to him that he was afraid he couldn't wait until he got to his new home. The man who was driving observed in the rear-view mirror, they seemed like a very calm couple and it certainly created a chilling sensation as the young man sitting in his car touched your face as if he feared breaking you by accident. On cold nights like these, he preferred not to ask any questions of his clandestine and unknown clients, but he would always take that doubt about who he helped to escape his own problems.

The room specially chosen by him was decorated, every detail seemed to reflect your darkest tastes and those that everyone knew. It was beautifully scary like the books and pillow was a replica of what you always wanted. Jungkook was proud to have been able to get everything, his bank account was now just zeroes. He learned how useful money was if you saved enough, he hated people who used it without knowing or measuring what it might be worth later.

Your body fell on the giant bed, the sheets were soft and honey color like your blouse. Jungkook knew that you liked colors that will make you relax but you had no preference for one in particular. His curious eyes glowed in the dark, his hands daringly touched your body without fear of being rejected because you simply couldn't do it.

"You are mine, now." He whispered, his voice mingling with the silent screams of the night. The moon was shining hungrily illuminating the room, but not enough to impede what was impossible to stop. "Sleep, sleep a lot. I could wait for you forever."

His promises remained in the air and on deaf ears. With selfishness in his heart, he rose above you positioning himself above you allowing his face to fall on your neck where he sipped from your charming scent that tempted him to follow. Your legs were side by side on his hips, he brought his body closer to yours. He couldn't bear to go on pretending to be the good guy, he was the only one.

"Please do not leave me..."

His sobs were trapped between the four walls, he was sick. He begged for forgiveness. Mercy he did not deserve. I was hoping that you could see him again directly as always, with a smile and your soft voice wishing him a good morning.

His calm, gentle kisses turned desperate, angry, and somewhat cruel. Leaving exaggerated marks all over your body, I wish it long ago. However, he was never heard.

Now he had what he wanted.

He felt complete by your side. His parents loved him as if they depended on their love, but they were certainly false in his head. Jungkook happily recalled how they prevented him from using his own money, how they seemed to put walls in front of him to prevent him from going to live alone, and how they rejected that he was in love with someone of the same gender.

His father called it disgusting and a shame, his mother was silent crying in his hands covering her grief.

Their bodies were never discovered. The police felt useless in front of their eyes, they apologized for their incompetence. They had fallen off a bridge where they always went to pray, where Jungkook knew they were asking for forgiveness and then committing the same sins again.

He planned his move cunningly, moving his pieces one by one.

He amused himself like a child killing a pawn of his competition.

He made an account of his crimes, his parents, Taehyung's best friend who was the harmless Park Jimin, his boss's former secretary who after being fired was strangely run over by a car that was never discovered, also remembers your insolent neighbor who seemed to enjoy stalking you, Jungkook remembers how I completely hate him. His hands on her neck made it clear when she hated him, he was disgusting.

He applauded happily, he felt very good about himself seeing that he made up his mind about so many people who for him were a plague in this world. It was like a child receiving a gift, his hands took the pen on his desk writing the last name on his list for now. Red ink stained the paper, a smile invaded his face.

𝓚𝓲𝓶 𝓣𝓪𝓮𝓱𝔂𝓾𝓷𝓰.

A gasp left his lips watching your figure move on the bed, he got up from his seat to watch you wake up. You looked so innocent, but now you were stained.

You carried her future child within you, he tried very hard to get you pregnant. You never noticed how he always managed to put powdered sleeping pills in your food every night since he got tired of just looking at you. Then he only had to enter your house like a ghost, his moans of pleasure were silent as he collided with you, fucking you hard with the thought and idea that you would carry his son in your womb.

So, you would never want to leave.

You will learn to love the monotony of being the wife and mother of Jeon Jungkook's son.

After all, he was never a fool.

#bts #bts yandere #yandere bts #bts smut #jungkook yandere #yandere kpop #yandere bts au #yandere!bts #yandere #jungkook #jungkook smut #kpop #jungkook bts

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chocolate1721 · 4 years

Text

I haven’t seen a lot of the class touring Arkham fics anymore, so here’s my prompt. Ok more salt and rogue trying to adopt Marinette.

So the class is touring Arkham. They were walking through the cafeteria or recreation room, their guide was rushing them because the inmates are due to come any minute. Lila slows down and trips Marinette, then she kicks Marinette’s sketchbook across the room. The class leave Marinette behind while she is scrambling for her book. When she looks up she finds two of Gotham’s Rogues in front of her.

Harley and Ivy weren’t expecting to have anything exciting to happen. There has been gossip about a foreign class touring Arkham, but other than that it’s been pretty quiet. They walked into the recreation room and froze. There is a child there. There is a child by herself there. They immediately went over to her, and they saw shock in her eyes when she saw them.

“Hey there girlie whatcha doing here by yourself?” Harley asks her gently.

“Uhm, my class and I are on a tour, but it looks like they forgot me.”

Harley and Ivy steered her towards an abandoned sofa and sat on either side of her. They soon got her to spill what’s happened. Harley went into ‘therapist’ mode. Marinette didn’t know how long she was talking about her problems, but she soon had her head in Harley’s lap while Harley strokes her hair.

Once all of the tears have been shed. Marinette showed them her designs. Some based on Gotham architecture, some based on the vigilantes, finally presenting outfits based on them. Ivy and Marinette start talking about making an eco friendly fabric. Harley knoticed what time it is and walks over to the door. She bangs on it a few times to get someone’s attention.

[[More]]

“What is it?”

“You know that French tour from earlier?”

“Yeah what about it?”

Harley moves enough for him to see Marinette talking passionately with Ivy. “I think that left someone behind.”

The worker pales drastically. They ran like a bat outta hell to get their superiors. This news ran up the chain of command until it got to Gordon.

Gordon was having a stressful evening. The Joker recently escaped, there were more muggings this past week than usual, and now he gets a call from Arkham. Only telling him to get over there as fast as possible. Not knowing what he is going up against he called Batman.

Batman and Red Hood arrived at Arkham. As they approach Gordon to see what’s going on they hear a worker panically describing how he found a French child in the room surrounded by the inmates. Red Hood demands to know which room. Once getting the info they both rush to the room. They were expecting the worse: torturing, beatings, crying. What they were NOT expecting is a small French girl braiding Poison Ivy’s hair while having Harley Quinn braid her own hair.

“The riddler should be shot and his clothes should be burned, then the ashes have to be scattered at the four corners of the world. The different shade of green on that man is more than a forest. Like, having a green themed outfit is fine. Wearing it everyday is fine. But what is NOT FINE is whereing every shade of green PLUS purple question marks. It’s like he’s asking to be slapped!” Marinette ranted.

Red Hood grabbed Batman’s shoulder and pulled him out of the room. He turned fully to Batman, placing both hands on his shoulders, he started shouting. “YOU ARE NOT ALLOWED TO ADOPT HER! DO YOU HEAR ME! SHE IS TOO PURE AND INNOCENT! I WILL NOT ALLOW YOU TO CORRUPT HER!”

Batman just brushes him off and (glides? Shadow melts? Skulks?) into the room.

“I’m sorry to interrupt, but may I ask what is going on?”

Marinette yelps in suprise. Spinning around to come face-to-face with the dark knight himself. “Uh-um-I-I-I-“

“She won a scholarship for her class. They were taking a tour today and left her behind. She said she has been bullied by the class for a while, and there is this one girl lying about everything.” Harley intervened for Marinette.

“Hmmm, you won the Martha Wayne scholarship?” Marinette nods shyly. Batman kneels down to be eye level with Mari. “What’s your name?”

Marinette looks at him and smiles brightly. “My name’s Marinette.”

After being dazzled by her bright, sunshine smile. (Red Hood is in the background being the dramatic ass he is shielding his eyes and yelling “TOO BRIGHT”) Batman then speaks up. “Your class wasn’t supposed to tour Arkham.”

Marinette freezes. “I’m sorry, what?!”

“Arkham is far too dangerous to tour. Who decided that the class was to come her.” Batman questioned her as they walked towards the door.

Before she could answer Harley interrupted. “Oi, Batsy! You can’t adopt her! She is our baby!”

“That isn’t up to you Harley.” Batman retorted.

“I told you earlier Bats, you’re not adopting another one” Hood spoke up.

“B-b-but I already have parents” Marinette informs them.

“It’s ok sweet pea we adopted you emotionally.” Ivy soothes.

“Ok let’s go inform Gordon what happened.” Red Hood directs her to the commissioner while Batman stepped away to make a few calls. He then calls Marinette’s parents, and tells them what happened. They give him permission to watch over their daughter.

By the time he walks back to where Marinette is, both her and Red Hood are ready to go. Hood helps Marinette into the back of the Batmobile, then climbs in next to Batman. Batman then turns to Marinette. “I called Mr. Wayne and informed him of what happened. He told me to bring you to his house, he wants to know what made yours class think you had a to of Arkham.”

“Thank you Mr. Batman.”

Marinette gets out of the batmobile and meets Alfred at the door. Batman calls Red Robin. “Red Robin I want you to find out why the class went to Arkham today.”

“10-4 B”.

By the time everyone returned from the cave Red Robin had what he needed.

“So it turns out one of the students made a fake email, under your name and told the teacher that they had a tour that was left off of the schedule. Then sent an email to Arkham to have them expect them.”

“Who was the student?”

“A Lila Rossi.”

“Hmmmm it seems like we will have to keep an eye on the situation.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ok so now it’s a few days later and the class is at Wayne Enterprise taking a tour. When the Riddler suddenly takes them hostage.

“Which one of you is Marinette?” Riddlers demanded

The class has no hesitation when pushing Marinette into the him. Marinette quickly regains her balance and squared up to him.

“What do you want with me.”

The Riddler gets close to her face in a dramatically scary way. Then quickly backs up and shows off his outfit. “I heard you don’t think I’m stylish.”

This is all the invitation that Marinete needed. She lays into him. No mercy.

“Absolutely. It’s worse in person than in the pictures!”

The Riddler gasps dramatically. “How dare-“

“Oh I dare. I dare I can redesign your entire wardrobe and make it look 10 times better.”

As all the hostages are being saved the class tries to leave, only to be stopped by an officer.

“Ma’am I’m sorry but you have to stay and give your statements.”

Bustier was insisting that it was too dangerous for them to stay there. If the police want their statements then they can come to their hotel and get them. The officer motions to the bus driver to not leave. The bus driver is more than happy to stay put. He is sick and tired of this ungrateful class.

Not too long after, Marinette and the Riddler walk out. The Riddler looks excited about his new clothes. He is so ready he heads straight to Gordon. He asks Gordon if he can have a package delivered to Arkham. Gordon is suspicious until Marinette shows him her designs. Gordon agrees.

As everyone is giving their statements Lois Lane arrives. Alya is extatic, she thanks Lila for getting her an interview with her idol. Only to turn around and see her idol interviewing Marinette.

Lois marches towards the girl who seems to be at the center of all this. A small girl standing next to the Riddler. She approaches her and asks for an interview. The girl agrees but apologizes in advance for any miscommunication between them. Lois asks her what happened. Marinette explained how the Riddler came to see if she really didn’t like his clothes and how she ended up redesigning them.

“But how would he know you didn’t like them?”

“Maybe Aunt Harley and Aunt Ivy told him?” Marinette shrugs.

“Wait! As in Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy?! How do you know them?!”

“Oh we met when my class left me behind in Arkham.” Marinette says nonchalantly.

Everyone around them freezes.

Caline quickly comes over and starts telling Lois that “you can’t trust everything she says. We are from France, so she most likely misunderstood you.” She continues to try and pass of Marinette as incompetent, troubled, attention seeking, and being a bad role model for the other students. All of this is caught on camera.

Bustier then roughly guides Marinette back to the class.

As Lois is processing this, the officer that stopped the class from leaving came over and explained what the class did. Leaving that same student behind in a hostage situation, then demanding to leave. Lois is horrified.

Both she and the officer go to Gordon and ask if they can use the body cameras of the officers there in the story.

Gordon immediately agrees. Once he knows why.

The story ran that very night.

#maribat au #maribat #aunt harley #aunt ivy #riddler is too green #caline salt #bustier salt #caline bustier salt #lila salt #class salt

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waitimcomingtoo · 4 years

Text

Where We Start Again - 1

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Synopsis: how do you fake date someone you have real feelings for?

Series Masterlist and regular Masterlist

Playlist by the amazing @tiny-friggin-human

“Did Y/n get a new skirt?” Ned mumbled as he rested his head on his hand. He and Peter watched you as you hung a banner for the school dance, a common lunchtime activity for them. You laughed loud enough for Peters heightened senses to pick up and he smiled to himself.

“No. She’s worn that skirt before. She just usually wears it with tights.” Peter answered as he matched Ned’s position of leaning on his hand.

“Another reason why I love spring.” Ned sighed as you reached towards the other end of the banner.

“You guys are losers.” MJ stated as she glanced up from her book. Peter jumped out of the daze you put him in and looked at her.

“Hey.” He said in defense before returning his attention to you. Even after four years of pining, he never got tired of looking at you.

“I wasn’t being mean. I’m just telling it like it is. In case you forgot, you guys are losers.” She said matter of factly. “Y/n is the most popular girl in school and I’ve watched you drool over her for the better part of four years. While you may think staring at her with a lovestruck expression will magically will her into falling in love with you like the plot of a bad Katherine Heigle movie, you’re only going to give her the feeling that she’s being watched. And girls like that hate being watched.”

“How would you know?” Ned came to his friends defense.

“I’m very observant. She’s also my bio partner and told me she hates being watched.” MJ shrugged and shifted her eyes back to her book.

“Did you hear that, Peter? She hates being watched. That’s so adorable of her.” Ned gushed and let out a sigh.

“Do you talk to her a lot in bio? Is she nice?” Peter asked, curious to know something personal about you.

“She brings me a granola bar every day because she noticed that I forget to eat during lunch if I’m reading. Do you know what that means?” MJ cocked her head.

“She’s charitable.” Peter smiled dreamily and sunk back into his hands.

“I heard she gave a dollar to a homeless person once and he used it to found a company that like, cured eczema or something.” Ned nodded in excitement and Peter hung on to every fabricated word.

“It means you don’t have a chance.” MJ deadpanned. “She’s basically the most perfect human being I’ve ever met. She’s not gonna fall in love with you. You guys are at the bottom of the food chain.”

“I know.” Peter said softly, trying to mask the hurt in his voice. “I just like looking at her.”

“Well quit staring. You look like a stalker.” MJ smirked as she turned her page.

“Dudes, is she coming closer or am I hallucinating again?” Ned patted Peters arm repeatedly until he looked your way. His mouth went dry as you approached his table with a clipboard in your hand.

“She’s coming closer.” MJ confirmed. “Try not to embarrass yourself too much, his royal shyness.”

“Hey, guys. How’s your lunch going?” You asked once you got to the table. Peter and Ned’s jaws dropped as their shared brain cell struggled to find words to say.

“Food good.” Ned grunted out and you let out a laugh.

“Yeah, food is good.” You nodded and looked over at Peter. “Is that a gogurt, Peter?”

“Uh, my aunt packed it. I usually eat big boy yogurt. I mean” he cleared his throat and deepened his voice, “man yogurt.”

“Man yogurt?” MJ grimaced.

“I remember seeing gogurt commercials as a kid and wishing I could dye my hair to look like the pink and blue one.” You smiled softly and touched the end of your hair. “That’s sweet that your aunt still packs your lunch.”

“Well I - - she, sometimes, um - and then she, yeah.” Peter stuttered and shook his head to collect himself. He took a second gogurt out of his lunch box and held it out to you. “Here. She packed me an extra today.”

Your eyes widened like a child as you took the tube from him. He smiled softly at the sight of your excitement and wondered why a random nerd giving you gogurt made you so happy.

“Thank you.” You smiled widely and checked the flavor. “And it’s my favorite kind.”

You and Peter looked at each other for a moment and he felt himself relax. It wasn’t often he got to look at you up close. A lot of his staring was done from afar when you couldn’t see him. Now you were close enough for him to smell your perfume and he didn’t know how to act. He just gazed at you until he heard a chuckled from MJ.

“Hey Michelle. Are you eating or reading over there?” You teased her as you lightly smacked the back of her head.

“I was reading but now I’m watching two dorks struggle to talk to a pretty girl.” She said as she nodded towards Peter and Ned.

“Well I just wanted to ask if you guys were coming to the dance next Friday. I’m head of the planning committee so it’s kinda like my baby. All the details are on that banner over there.” You said as you pointed to the banner behind you.

“Banner good.” Ned nodded eagerly and you laughed again.

“Thank you! I painted it myself.” You told him. “I wasn’t sure about the red and blue but I think it looks all right.”

“I like red and blue, too.” Peter spoke up and you shot him a wink.

“Peter knows his colors!” MJ said in a baby voice. “Do you like trucks and chu chu trains too?”

“Leave him alone, Michelle.” You emphasized her name to taunt her and she stuck her tongue out at you. “Ignore her. She’s not her when she’s hungry.”

Not knowing what to say, Peter nodded and softened his eyes. This was the most he had ever spoken to you, and it was better than all of the conversations with you he had made up in his head. He opened his mouth a few times, but nothing came out. He was finally talking to his long time crush and all he had given you was a gogurt.

“I know Michelle isn’t much of a dancer, but what about you guys? Do you think you’ll come?” You brought the conversation back to the dance when you saw Peter struggling.

“Me like dance. Skirt look good today.” Ned gave you a thumbs up and you looked down at your skirt in amusement.

“Dude, you’re talking like a caveman.” Peter whispered harshly.

“Is he okay?” You asked Peter. You pointed to Ned, who was locked in a trance as he stared at you. Drool was begging to form on his lip.

“I think he’s having a stroke.” Peter said honestly.

“I think he might be dead.” MJ added. “Guess he can’t go to the dance either.

“Okay, um, well I hope you can come then, Peter. It should be a lot of fun.” You smiled at him and tapped the gogurt tube against your head. “See you around.”

“Bye.” Peter squeaked as you walked away, keeping his eyes on you until you were out of view.

“Did you hear that Peter?” Ned shook his arm. “She hopes you come! Wait…”

“That was painful to watch. That, that made me itchy.” MJ concluded.

“Did she just ask me out?” Peter whispered to himself.

“Not at all.” MJ tilted her head in confusion.

“But she said she hopes to see me there. She wants me at her dance. And by correlation, she wants me.” Peters eyes widened as he connected the dots.

“This is like watching the scene where the misunderstood character becomes the villain.” MJ feared for Peters sanity.

“I have to go to that dance. I have to see her.” Peter realized as he turned towards Ned. Ned was already staring off in your direction, watching you give your clipboard out for people to sign.

“Look at her. She looks so cute when she’s asking people to come to the dance she planned.” Ned gushed.

“I bet she planned it better than any dance has ever been planned.” Peter fell back into his trance upon seeing your smile as you passed around the clipboard.

“My original statement stands.” MJ sighed and went back to her book. “You guys are losers.”

Peter kept a smile on his face as he carried his science fair project to his locker, the warm feeling inside still lingering from your conversation. It only faltered when he sensed Flash coming up behind him, cocky smirk already prevalent on his face. He smacked the books out of Peters hands and let out a snarky laugh.

“What’s up, Penis Parker? Is this your nerd-vention for the science fair? I heard you have a real shot this year since they’re giving extra points to virgins. Let me see how it works.” Flash poker at the lego lamp Peter was holding and tried to press the on button.

“Leave me alone, Flash. Get your raccoon hands away from it.” Peter sharply moved his project away from Flash, shielding it with his hands as he went.

“Come on. I just want to see how your little project works. Don’t I get a sneak peak?” Flash whined as he reached for the lamp again, managed to knock a few bricks off.

“No. You don’t.” Peter snapped, regretting his words when Flash got an amused look in his eyes.

“Did Penis Parker just tell me no? I don’t know how I feel about that. I think I should do something about it.” Flash said through gritted teeth as he took a step closer to Peter.

“Peter!” You came from behind and wrapped your arms around Peters shoulders, making his and Flash’s eyes widen. “I’ve missed you all day. Why haven’t you been texting me back?”

“What?” Peter asked in exasperation as he turned around. You let your hand slide down his arm and took his hand, all while giving him a sweet smile.

“I sent you like a million texts, baby. Did you not get them?” You tilted your head and silently told Peter to go along with it.

“No way. Not possible.” Flash laughed abruptly. “You’re dating Penis Parker?”

“After I practically had to beg him to give me a chance, yeah.” You nodded and rested your head on Peters shoulder. “I still can’t believe we’re together. I can totally see why you guys call him Penis Parker.” You winked at Flash and he started to gag. It took Peter a minute to get the joke but when he did, it made the situation that much better.

“There is no way a girl as hot as Y/n is dating a loser like Freddie Benson over here.” Flash folded his arms and shook his head. “Am I being pranked? Is there a camera around here? Holy shit, am I gonna be on TV?”

“It’s not a prank, Flash. Peter and I really together. Right, baby?” You turned to Peter and brushed some hair off his forehead, something you’d been wanting to do all day.

“Right.” Peter said confidently and you smiled at him for taking the hint. He adjusted his grip on your hand to be more natural, taking notice of the way it fit in his like it was made just for him.

“So you guys are going to the dance together, I assume?” Flash tested. Peter looked to you in a panic but you were unfazed.

“Yep. Peter asked me last night after surprising me with a bouquet of daisies.” You gushed and rubbed Peters arm, pulling away a little in surprise when you felt his incredibly firm bicep. “Isn’t that cute? It’s because he calls me his daisy.”

“Then I guess I’ll see you guys there. Together.” Flash tried to test you but you didn’t back down.

“Yes you will. Bye Flash.” You waved goodbye to him and he scoffed before leaving. As soon as he was out of earshot, you turned to Peter and assessed the damage on his LEGO lamp.

“Did he break it?” You asked as you put your hands over Peters shaking ones to help him steady the board he was carrying the lamp on.

“I’m Peter.” He blurted and you laughed softly.

“We had a conversation an hour ago where I used your name several times. I know your name is Peter.” You told him as you picked up the books Flash had knocked down.

“My last name is Parker.” He nodded, knowing he was blowing it with you but not knowing how to stop it.

“I know that too.” You assured him. “This is really cool, by the way. Did you make this all by yourself?”

“Well, I, yeah.” Peter kept his eyes on his project, finding it easier to talk when he wasn’t looking at you.

“Looks like he knocked this part off. He’s such an idiot some- all of the time.” You corrected yourself. “Is it gonna be hard to fix? I know the science fair is this Friday.”

“No. It’s just legos, see?” Peter put a few red bricks back in their place. “I just have to get Ned to help me glue the pieces down.”

“I never had legos as a kid. My mom thought it would make me a tomboy.” You laughed shortly and Peter noticed a sadness in your eyes. “I uh, I heard you and Ned talking about the Death Star the other day. It sounded pretty cool. Do you have a lot of sets?”

“Not that many. Only 12.” He told you, wondering why you were interested in something like that. He always assumed a girl of your popularity and status would find a LEGO Death Star completely lame.

“12?” You were impressed. “Which ones your favorite?”

“The Ferris wheel.” He answered without thinking. “It has a motor so it really turns.”

“Can I see it?” You asked and he laughed nervously.

“It’s at my house, so…” He trailed off when you nodded like you already understood where it was.

“Do you want to come over?” He asked as more of a question than an offer. He couldn’t think of a single reason that you would want to go to his apartment.

“Would that be all right? I’ve always wanted to play with legos.” You said sheepishly and he opened his mouth in pleasant surprise.

“People are gonna talk if they see us walking home together.” He reminded you and you furrowed your eyebrows.

“Who cares?” You handed him his back back and took his hand. “You’re my boyfriend now, aren’t you?”

“I-“ Peter tensed and felt every word he knew leave his brain as he struggled to string together a sentence.

“Hey, relax. I’m only kidding.” You squeezed his hand and he calmed down. “Fake boyfriend, remember? I do want to play with legos, though.”

“I can help you out with that.” He said stiffly and you tugged him towards the doors.

“Come on, then.” You pulled him outside and the warm air hit his face, reminding him that he wasn’t sleeping.

“Okay.” He smiled to himself as he lead you towards his apartment as he held your hand. If you clocked the stunned looks from other students as you passed by, you didn’t show it. Peter was living out his greatest fantasy and you were acting like nothing was out of the ordinary. Determined not to blow this once in a lifetime chance with you, he kept his pace up and fell into an easy stride beside you. You did most of the talking as you walked towards his apartment, which Peter was grateful for. He was able to sneak you past May and braced himself for what could possibly happen next as he opened the door to his bedroom.

Tag List 🏷

@a-villain-vying-for-attention @wendaiii @dorbiksbitch @t-monosapiens-h @badhollandfluff @silteplaittais-toi @thisisthebiplace @seasidecrowbar

#peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker imagine #peter parker x popular!reader #peter parker fake dating #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #iron man #tom holland fluff #tom holland fanfiction

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