#the key thing would be deciding who all is in the party when the doubles happen

[mikkeneko]

....now considering whether I want to write a 'Find the shapeshifters' fic for SVSSS too

[hoseoksluna]

WHITE | jjk

pairing: boyfriend!jungkook x wine!oc

genre: smut

word count: 8.1k

summary: craving white wine, your boyfriend would do anything for you—even let you dom him.

pinterest board: wine

warnings: alcohol consumption, wine!oc is dominant and she's enjoying it, plushie used in a sexual intercourse, dd/lg, jk is desperate and so horny, hand job, oral sex (m. + f. receiving), fingering, squirting, raw sex, the importance of sex being imperfect, use of sex toys — yes, plural, dirty talk, spanking, face riding

note: i'm genuinely sorry for this—SDFKJDSLFJDSLFJS. this is the last wine drabble <3 i loved writing about them again, ugh i missed my babies so much. would you, guys, also like me to write two drabbles about the steam series? i feel like it would only be fair like this. vote in the poll below, pwease. <3 hope you like this last installment.

Your boyfriend has an immense, insane amount of energy. 

You have partly yourself to blame. It’s Saturday night, summer at full blast and you felt it thrumming so deeply and intensely within your veins that you found yourself craving your most favored mood-lifter in the world. 

White wine. 

You’ve almost spent every weekend drinking myriads of different alcoholic beverages, but the white nectar is something you’ve quite neglected. Well, not so much as neglected, but forgotten about entirely. The last time you drank it, you and Jungkook were on far, far different terms. Fuck buddies with a degradation kink, skipping a party because you got horny again. You wonder if things would’ve turned out the same way if you hadn’t decided to spice up your getting ready time with that drink. Would it change the course of events that led him to confess his feelings for you? Would you have allowed yourself to fall for him, had he not made you drunk with his allure?

You only had to mention your thirst and Jungkook was quick to get up to his feet, take his keys, phone and wallet and he was out the door before you could say anything else. Your fond giggles vibrated across the room—so much that Bam lifted his head and jumped on your lap and so you spent the remaining time alone cuddling with the canine friend, catching up in your lovey-dovey dog language, kissing him all over until you dolled him up with red lipstick marks. 

He looked so good. Was happy about it, too, because when his Daddy came back, he was similarly quick to show him. 

And Jungkook, he laughed so hard that he clutched his own stomach, doubled over, his shoulders shaking. Then, he sat next to you on the couch, pulled you in for a hug as if he hadn’t seen you in years and very solemnly told you that it was his turn now. 

The words that tumbled out of you were so swift, without any kind of embrace of thought beforehand, that you didn’t have the time to consider the consequences they would come with until they dazzled you. Through and through, ridding you of your sense of sight. 

“You’ll get your kisses only if you show me that you bought the wine.” 

Jungkook’s eyes grew in size, darkened in nightly fashion. Twinkles flickering, dimly. The atmosphere, the dynamic and energy shifted, folding into something you haven’t yet experienced in such depth, calming your eyes until they blended back into normalcy. And you wouldn’t perceive it for what it truly was, had Jungkook not wordlessly left to fetch his bag from the convenience store, along with a corkscrew and two glasses, and had he not crouched in front of you. 

The view left you stunned. The blatantly obvious fact, too. 

The fact that, somehow, you were in control.

And it was so different from the last time due to a simple reason. Jungkook wasn’t the one who initiated it. Didn’t tell you to be in charge. Didn’t give you his control in words, in commands. No, it happened arbitrarily, on its own and Jungkook submitted to it. Submitted to you. Put down his control once he lowered his form between your knees, giving it to you this way, silently. 

A thing of utter beauty, filling you up with vibrancy, enthusiasm and… passion. 

He showed you his haul, unloading it onto your lap. Sparkling white wine in a golden bottle, dog treats, cheese and crackers and… Miffy. 

Miffy in a way you haven’t seen her before. 

Made into a sleeping position. Black eyes shut, round butt risen in the air, even rounder tail perked, body soft and drowsy. Bigger than the bunny resting alone on his bed in the other room. 

You purred, squeezing her hard before you hugged her to your chest, careful not to smear your makeup on her when you pushed her up to your neck. Looked at your quite small boyfriend with a ravening gaze as you said, “You got bunny a sister, how cute. Well done.” 

Your praise coaxed a noise out of Jungkook that you never heard before, one that stirred the eternally slumbering beast in you that had not once seen the night enveloping you. A concoction, most delicious and arousing, of a whimper and a hum. It settled within your core, teasing you there, making you want more. You told him, or the beast more like, to open the wine and he obeyed, right away. 

You watched him do it. Watched the flexing of his muscles, tense beneath the fabric of his tiger-print shirt. Watched him not spill a drop and then pour you a glass until it almost overflowed. He handed it to you, expecting you to take it from him, but you caught him off guard. 

“Taste it for me first.” 

His mouth fell agape. Remained parted when he immediately brought the glass to his lips and took a large sip. Your eyes followed the bobble of his throat as he swallowed and you gave him a big smile for it. A praise, too. 

“Good. Let me have a sip now, my hands are full.” 

In typical fashion, he drew close to you until your knees squeezed him in, legs wrapping around his torso. One hand wrapped around your hip, the other tipped the glass to your mouth and you looked at him and did not stop until you took a big gulp. 

“More.” 

He tipped it again. “Tastes good?” 

You nodded, liking the sweetness and the fizziness, but this time you didn’t swallow the nectar. Jungkook set the glass down, along with his haul, averting his gaze momentarily and you cupped his chin, bringing it back to you. Leaned in and, in a heated kiss, you spewed the wine out into his mouth. He gasped, pulling away, flushed cheeks a tiny bit full, lips pursed, one mouth end wet with a trickle flowing down. It would’ve been an adorable sight, had his eyes not narrowed, darkened further more and pierced you with such intensity that your clit gained a drum. 

Your finger felt for the top button of his shirt. “Swallow. Don’t be messy.” He did. Swore. Breathed hard. You undid the button, lifting your digit to wipe his chin clean, smearing it on his bottom lip until he opened for you. You plunged in. Let out a low sound of delight once he wrapped his puffy lips around it. 

And now here you are staring at each other, finger in mouth. His newly secured energy pulsating in him, seconds away from bursting, brutally. You can see it, vividly, and you prepare yourself for it—blaming partly yourself and, feignedly, the palatability of the white nectar for being the cause behind it. He’s waiting for the next move, countenance terribly solemn and stiff. His hands must be oh so itching to take over, but he sticks to the unspoken, patient and good. 

Taking out your finger gently, you undo the rest of his buttons, aware of the shudders zapping his body the more you reveal his smooth skin. Jungkook straightens for you, palms on your thighs, breathing heavily, a sound that brings out the strangest of oxymorons in you—simultaneous nervousness and confidence. Nervousness that you call the shots; confidence that the paintwork of his arousal is signed with your name. 

And it’s the latter that the beast plucks out, like a twig of flower off a tree. 

You push Jungkook back and slide into his lap, biting your lip at the contact of his hardness under the flimsy material of your ivory pajama shorts. His hands clasp around your small hips, but you pry them away, deeming that if you are in control, then it’s you who decides when he gets to touch you. His brows rise when you pin them down and at last he beams up at you, eyes lidded and drunk, despite the fact he merely had two sips of alcohol. Bunny’s sister rests askew in your joined laps, her head pointed towards your mound and it forces a certain idea into your muddy brain. 

One that Jungkook fleetingly interrupts. 

“You’re gonna take control of me?” 

Ooft, making it official. You hum your agreement, repositioning the plushie. Place her directly against his imprint and, pushing the soaked center of your shorts to the side, you sit down on her soft face. Begin to rock slowly. Jungkook’s breath hitches in his throat, fists clench on either side of him as well as his jaw, chin upturned. He’s holding himself back with all of his might and it is only now that you feel your wetness dripping onto the fur, now when the vibrancy of the faint pleasure spreads across your every nerve ending, now when you know that he’s struggling to keep his composure. There’s something so incredibly satisfying about it that you rock your hips harder, whimpering, hands gripping his shoulders. 

“Can you handle it?” you murmur, already knowing that he won’t be able to the moment you decide to take things further, but you give him a slither of a chance to prove you wrong, rooting for him from within with a sly smile on your face. 

Jungkook pokes his tongue in his cheek, sighing, eyes descending to your neck and to your perky, pebbled breasts under your low cut top. “I’ll handle anything you come up with as long as I get your kisses.” 

His sweet response gratifies you so much that you arch your back, lowering your hands down to his chest, the thrum on your clit becoming unbearable, the soft friction of the plushie doing very little to alleviate it. You whine, picking up your pace. “Even—even if you don’t get to touch me?” 

Jungkook hesitates, biting his lower lip. A certain sadness coasts his now big eyes that makes you coo endearingly and slow down, feel so bad for him. “Anything for you.” 

You can’t halt the groan from escaping, the groan that roots from the passion and the love you carry for him, from the principle of his submission. You’ll make it up to him. Play with him just for a little while and you’ll give him his rightful upper hand right back to him, all because he was so quick to be your little toy. Without a thought, nor a word spared. Without a struggle. He deserves it. Has come a long way. 

“You’re just my little slut, aren’t you?” You grab a hold of his throat, tip his chin up, feel his vein throbbing. “My pretty little slut. Hard for me, hm? Will do anything for me?” 

Widening his eyes, mouth parted, he moans, sucking in a breath, chest lifting rapidly. Hand automatically lifting to palm himself, just in time to realize that he can’t because the plushie and your lap is in the way. “Yes, I’m your little slut and I need you so bad. Need your kisses.” 

You hum, terribly, terribly satisfied. Horny. A fire, personified. Fire and energy—a wonderful mixture about to meet. “Where, baby?” 

His breath shakes, his being radiated by you, glistening in sweat. “Everywhere, please.” 

You drift your hands down his chest. Think he earned them now by asking so nicely. You sit back on his thighs, plushie in hand, ready to chuck her away, but then another idea comes up. 

Grabbing her by the back of her neck, you use her to kiss him. On his jaw, on his neck, on his left peck, nipple and the mole underneath, making kissing sounds. Jungkook shudders at the contact upon his most sensitive spots and you can see his disliking for it before he voices it out. You revel in it, his desperation becoming your obsession. 

“No, not from her. Please, from you.” 

But in spite of that, your craving to give him everything is stronger. 

You toss her on the couch, hands instantly clasping around his neck. You kiss him, wetly, on his Adam’s apple and he whimpers, urging you to continue. The sides of his throat, collarbones, shoulders—you mark him everywhere with your red lipstick, making a pathway down his sternum before you go sideways. Create a large shape of a heart on the left side of his peck, coloring it in with bruises, with kisses so hard that his manhood twitches in his pants. You’re so focused on adorning him, on the citrusy taste of his skin, that you don’t even sense your hands as they rid him of his shirt, unbuckle his belt and undo his button, dragging down his zipper. 

You rise to your feet, out of breath, puffy mouth, lipstick slightly smeared, head spinning. “Take off your pants and get on the couch.” 

The golden buckle of his belt catches your eye as he stands up. You wrap your hand around it and tug it out of his belt hoops harshly. There’s a hint of timidness in the vast sea of his arousal once he looks at you, aware of what you’re planning with the leather band. With a giggle, you merely wink at him and Jungkook blushes, dropping his gaze in tandem with his pants. 

“Boxers, too?” 

You edge around his side and envelop your arms around his middle, mouth pressing against his spine. A big, red mark of your lips amidst the broadness of his back. Utterly, utterly beautiful. “Smart boy, yes—off with them, now.” 

Jungkook laughs, softly, shyly. You wish you could see his blush deepen as the clenching of his abdomen divulges to you how much he liked that praise. You also wish you could feel the fluttering of the butterflies inside, if there are any at all. You’re getting to know him in such a new way that you otherwise would have never had the opportunity to do so. The shudders, the tension under his skin, the lively energy that is yearning to burst and rain upon you—it is all so awfully exhilarating, even more so the fact that you hold it all in your tender grasp. 

And he lets you. In the name of love. 

He drops his undergarment and he goes to sit down like you told him to, but you squeeze him harder against yourself. No, he’s not going anywhere. The heat, his soft skin, his gentleness and shyness—you want it all close to you, close enough to seep into your pores so it can make bed there and live there perpetually. So snug, so homely��yes, that’s precisely what it is. Home. 

You skim your hands down the defined muscles of his stomach, feeling them move under your fingers. Take his wrists behind his back and keep them there, unrestrained yet, his belt curled on the coffee table. You bring your hands back to his stomach, lowering them down—

“Can you reach me?” Jungkook asks, head turned to the side. You’re so used to degradation in your sex life that at first you thought he was mocking you, but on the contrary—he’s asking in all genuinity. With his forearms pressed to his sides, he’s bigger than he usually is and he wondered if your small form can stretch enough to touch him. 

How sweet. 

“Such a good, thoughtful boy.” You grab his length. Had to do it from the side a little bit, but you don’t mind. At least you get to see him. See the way he twists his features at the contact, see his energy and his muscles straining. “I guess I can, huh?” 

You tug at his length rapidly a few times. His body shudders again, almost doubles over before he straightens his spine, whimpers trickling out of his mouth and rooting in your heat, soaking your pajamas. And when his sounds rise in volume, you swiftly let go of him. Fetch the belt and fasten it around his wrists, leading him to take a seat on the couch. 

Manspreading, cock hard, red and long, almost kissing his belly button, hands behind his back, muscles big and flexed, face features darkened by his arousal, ravagedly fixed on you—fuck, you could come from the view. 

You sink to your knees in front of him. Itch so fucking hard to take him in your mouth and make that energy paint you in white, but watching him like this—you plan something else entirely. Pressing one kiss on his V-line, you glide your lips upon the tip of his length, making him tremble in desperation. It takes all of your strength not to give it to him, but you know he will be overjoyed with the little thought that’s swarming in your brain. 

“Where’s your fleshlight, baby?” 

Jungkook loosens a hard, flabbergasted breath and his pretty, pretty cock twitches against your mouth. 

You knew it. 

You bought the toy together yesterday. It’s still unopened in a box somewhere in his bedroom; you don’t know where he hid it. He may have not wanted to spend money on it, but when you witnessed the way his eyes glowed, you convinced him to get it. Begged him. Told him you wouldn’t leave the sex shop until he bought it and he gave in, timidly. Much to your delight.

“In the closet,” Jungkook croaks out, clearing his throat and you kiss his other V-line as a reward, kitten licking his tip for a millisecond as you rise to your feet. He whimpers, again in desperation.

“You can’t get it, can you?” you taunt, lovingly, fingers hooking under your shorts and dragging them down your hips, your top following over your head. His eyes follow your every movement, fixing on your feminine parts, muscles bulging, yearning to touch you. You grow wetter, being looked at, being desired like that. “You’re just a helpless baby.” 

He moans your name, signaling to you that there’s only so much he can take and you understand. You’re quick as you hurry to his bedroom, quick to find it, quick to pull the toy out of the box and quick to return to him. 

There’s a trickle of his male arousal gliding down his length when you stand between his legs and your own desperation to pleasure him heightens in you—so much that you’re equally quick to unfold your plan. 

You grab his chin and tip it up, harshly. Kiss him so nastily that he moans into your mouth and then… then you stare him dead in his eye. “I’m gonna put the fleshlight under bunny’s sister and you’re gonna show her how hard Daddy fucks his girls, yeah?” He’s left speechless, breathing rapidly, coated in sweat. Eyes narrowed, still darkened but now glowing with that familiar light that you saw yesterday, black irises piercing you through and through. “You should give her a name, though. Have something to moan when you fill her up, hm?” 

It’s evident, the way his brain malfunctions, but he surprises you. 

“Vinny.” 

Vinny and Bunny, how adorable. 

You coo, pecking him. “Vinny it is. Such a pretty name. I’m gonna make you nice and wet for her. Would you like that?” 

“Please.” 

You descend to your knees and you don’t hesitate to immediately take him into your mouth as far as you can. You gag around him, but you relax your throat, bobbing your head only slightly, testing yourself, wanting to stretch your throat out for him. Jungkook groans, squeaks little mewls as he doubles over once more, and the sound is so obscenely loud that your clit throbs harder in response and you would touch yourself if your craving to pleasure him wasn’t stronger. 

You pull out until you can stack both of your hands on his length and while your tongue plays with his tip, you twist your wrists. Only briefly, just to make him feel a little better before you lick him all over—just to stay true to your words. And when it’s your name that comes out of his mouth once you slobber all over him, you withdraw altogether. 

“Please… please,” Jungkook whimpers, trembling and you feel terribly bad for him. So much that you pucker your lips at him and kiss his cheek endearingly as soon as you get on your feet again, purposefully ignorant to the way your cunt likes his helplessness. 

“I got something better for you, Daddy, don’t worry,” you reassure him, slipping into the dynamic your familiarity using the title. You grab Vinny and the fleshlight, placing her on top of the toy, on the armrest of the couch—her butt and her pussy facing him. 

And when you glance at him to see his reaction to your artwork, you’re stunned by the look he gives you. Mad, mad stare. Awfully dark and menacing. It would disquiet you if didn’t know that he loved you. There’s no way you could take the liberty in toying with him like this, had you not become exclusive—had he not created a realm of safety for you to do that in. 

“I’m gonna fuck the shit out of you for this,” Jungkook threatens and the sliver of normalcy in the middle of the role-play that he caught onto makes you giddy and feel so fucking alive. The threat, too. You quiver in anticipation and excitement, grinning from ear to ear. “You’re not walking after this.” 

You laugh, softly, thrilled. “I sure hope so,” you say, grabbing a hold of his arm to lift him up. “I’m dripping for you.” 

Jungkook hisses. Won’t budge. Remains seated, looking up at you. Doesn’t reciprocate your smile. Scowls, instead. “Can I taste you?” 

You shake your head ‘no’, even if it emotionally pains you. “Not right now.” 

He sighs and you take his arm again. This time he obeys—lets you lead him into the position that you want. On his knees, still on the couch, perfectly at level with Vinny’s pussy patiently waiting for him. Jungkook looks at her for a long time, studying the silicone shape of her clit and lips. You’re certain that if his hands were free, his thumb would’ve traced her soft vulva.

“Do you like her pussy?” you ask, your grin only widening, eyes blazing, emitting hot sparkles of light. You’re perhaps more excited and enthusiastic about this than he is. 

Jungkook looks at her for a split second more before he flicks his intense gaze to yours. “Yours is prettier.” Your breath hitches in your throat and your heart follows its footsteps, skipping a beat, springing up and grazing your vocal cords. You can’t get a word out—you’re stupefied, in love, so impassioned that you resemble him with all that fire in you, taking after his energy buzzing in him. You sense the same movement in you, hotter, more vigorous. Your mouth parts and, cheeks awash with color, you’re on the verge of bursting. “Let me touch your little pussy, please.”  

You bite your lip, pause a tiny bit just to regain your composure and you sigh, eventually, gripping his face in your hand, squishing his cheeks. “I said,” you start, emphasizing your warning just to see his flush deepen like you wanted. “Not right now. Can’t you listen?” 

For a fleeting moment, there’s a heavy silence filled with his hard breaths. 

Then, Jungkook glares at you. 

“I’m gonna destroy you.” 

You chuckle, girlishly—even though his threat yet again thrums within your skin, even though your body craves to submit to him, throw the playtime away, forget about it, entirely. “Talk all you want. See where it gets you.” With your other hand, you take his length and line it up at Vinny’s entrance. “Fuck her.” 

Now—now he finally grins, a puckish smile that unnerves you a little bit, as if an idea crawled up into that smart brain of his. 

And he proves you right. 

“I’m gonna show her how I’m gonna fuck you,” he mutters, drawing closer to Vinny, to the arm rest. “Where’s the lube? Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten.” 

A trickle of cold sweat trickles down your spine and it’s you who’s left speechless now. You were so quick to return to him that you did forget the lube, mind void of rationality, filled with him that you forgot such an essential thing. You swear under your breath, feeling stupid. 

“Go get it before I rip this fucking belt apart and use it on you.” 

Wordlessly, embarrassed with your head down, you go back to his room and fish for his lube in his bedside drawer, noticing that it’s where he keeps the vibrator for you. You haven’t used it in so long in your playtime and you reminisce, briefly, on the last time he made you come with it. On this very bed, on his lap with bunny on yours as he rearranged your guts with the toy on your clit—teasing you by lifting it and placing it between the plushie’s legs, acting for her and screwing up his features in pleasure.

Your heart thuds at the memory, your thighs sodden with your essence, and a certain expectation creeps within its chambers. The expectation that the toy will make a comeback tonight. That is, if you even deserve it. 

You cringe at your wetness while your feet pad back to the living room. Jungkook stares you down, guilt written all over his face for being mean and it mollifies your negative feelings, dispersing them away from you. It’s enough for you—you don’t really want to talk about how you pitifully failed, nor do you want to hear a mention of it, but Jungkook seemingly does. 

Up close, his eyes are awfully soft as if he made a mistake with his last words. You don’t think he did—he’s always been the leader in your playtime, so you deem he only did the right thing. Besides, you’ve worked him up to the point of anger, so from your standpoint, he didn’t do anything wrong. You did. 

“Come here,” he says, gently, leaning in and angling his head. “Put your arms around me.” You do as he says, needing to, needing to be led for a little while before you can resume. You sink your fingers into his hair as you rest your forearms around his shoulders, even though all you want to do is rid him of his restraint and let him fuck it out of you. He kisses you with such tenderness that you whimper in sensitivity and amorousness, taking it one step further and moving your mouth against his, slipping your tongue inside. It’s a brief kiss, no matter its intensity, for he still has something to say. “You’re doing so well tonight. I never thought I’d ever get this hard from you being the boss of me. I’m sorry for snapping, you hear me?” he whispers against your lips, each movement causing his pillows to touch yours in faint, faint kisses that make your mind spin and your desire for him to lengthen across your whole body, deepening. You nod for him, hearing his words, needing them, too—glad for the honesty, for the check in, for the sliver of normalcy. “I’m just so horny and I need you. I didn’t mean it, okay? Daddy didn’t mean to talk to you like this. He loves you and you made him so needy that he’s frustrated, but it’s okay. He can handle it. Do you love your Daddy back, hm?”

You moan at the continuation of his words, running your fingers through his hair, inching closer to him until your chest softly collides with his. And his reassurement, the warm feeling of his skin, the potency of his love—it all erases your mistake, leaving only your sensual craving for him. You nod, again, like a little girl given a talking-to from her father, absorbing the lesson. “I love you.” 

Jungkook hums, pleased, pecking you. “Good. I’m gonna do what you want now, baby. Gonna make you proud, listen to every word like a good Daddy, hm? You can do anything you want to me. You’d like that? You wanna keep going?” 

You smile at him, sweetly, and he kisses your expression of contentment. It feels so good like this and you feel woozy, too. Sluggish, ready to be taken, on your way to cloud nine. You nod your head for the last time and squirt the lube all over him and Vinny’s intimate parts, your desire to take over him blending into your fuzzy feelings. 

With your help, he slides inside her, both pairs of eyes watching the slick intrusion, then meeting at once—your simultaneous groans of delight merging, fading into one another, creating one beautiful, heavenly sound, unheard by all angels and celestial beings. You hold the fleshlight steady as he bottoms out, his mouth parted, brows furrowed, eyes so heavy-lidded as he devours your gaze, your face, the pleasure he feels so overwhelming that you almost think he can’t take it. The flexing of his abdominal muscles, the roll of his hips that takes all of his strength while his arms remain restrained behind his back, his neck shiny with a layer of sweat—fuck, the sight is to die for and you melt into something boneless, jelly and gooey; becoming just a hole for him.

You can’t wait for him to fuck you. Perhaps it’s you, after all, who can’t take it. 

Jungkook begins to pound her, his mound hitting her clit with every hard motion and it strikes your awe. Your breathing quickens, the drum in your own bundle of nerves unwaveringly unbearable and what’s worse, he keeps fucking looking at you, perhaps imagining it’s your pussy that he’s ruining and your legs tremble, threatening to give out—

“Rub your pussy on the other end, please,” he begs, vocal cords so awfully strained, and this time you decide to gratify him. 

The first moan that your mouth emits makes him fuck the toy harder—so much that it slips out of your grasp. You prop your knee on the armrest, flattening Vinny’s face on the edge of the toy, so you can gain the friction you so desperately need and it works. Your cunt soaks her sleepy countenance and you flick your eyes to it, watching the fur get darker with each rock of your hips.

“Look at me,” he grunts—and you do. A hint of softness in the dark sea of his eyes, boisterous waves of arousal sloshing to and fro. “Use her like I am. Hard—” He shows you how by a stroke that reverberates through your body, stimulating your clit by bumping into it. “And then fast.” Quick thrusts that waggle with your form, your curls bouncing against your spine. 

And so you match his rhythm. It stimulates you far more than the pace you had going for yourself, your orgasm enclosing around you, inching closer and closer with each graze of your clit against the now more firm plush fur. Your brows knit, the coil in your stomach tightening to the point that it’s you who ultimately takes over and Jungkook follows, matching your rhythm, fucking Vinny faster—the silicone squeaking with each deep plunge of his length into her hole that causes your tits to slap against each other. But Jungkook doesn’t look at them. No, his eyes are set on you and you know that he knows that you’re about to come. 

Jungkook begins to pant, marked chest flushing, adorning him most finely. The knowledge is getting him there, too. “You close, baby?” 

You moan, sucking in a breath. “So close, I’m gonna come.” 

He moans with you, approving of it. “Come, then, I wanna watch you. Make her nice and wet for me, hm?” You rock your hips faster—closer and closer, gripping Vinny with all your might. “I wanna touch you so bad, princess. Kiss you everywhere. Lick that little clit. Fuck you until all that you know is my fucking name. Please—”

You come so hard that it takes both you and Jungkook by surprise, your body violently shuddering and colliding into his. He groans, deeply, following in suit, your orgasm triggering his and he sloppily fucks the toy while he watches you ride out your high, bliss enveloping you in angelic glow. 

“Yes, princess, just like that, fuck. You’re so pretty. My pretty little girl, coming so hard. Yes, fuck.” He’s losing himself, moaning your name over and over until there’s nothing left to give to Vinny, until he’s so spent that he sits back on his feet, eyes closing and opening, tongue licking his dry lips. He moans your name again, in post-high. “Please, get the belt—”

You don’t hesitate. With blurry vision and sex hormones swirling in your brain, numb by your intense orgasm, you edge around him and rid him of his restraint, flinging it somewhere away from the both of you, hating it, not wanting to see it again. 

You and Jungkook exchange a look full of soft smiles and love, with his joy like a cherry on top of that. He twists his wrists, standing up to his feet, the size difference and the sudden change in energy causing him to grow solemn. No smiles, though the love remains. You feel it thumping in the atmosphere you’re surrounded by as he completely overpowers you, naturally. And you welcome it, needing it—needing to be dominated and fucked until you’re brainless. 

“I love watching you come,” Jungkook murmurs, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear and cradling the side of your face. “It’s all I want to see for the rest of my life. Every morning when I wake up and every night before I go to sleep. It’s everything to me.” 

It moves through you, his words, almost painfully with their vigor and passion, passing down your body until they settle in your core. You drip for him. Still feel so terribly lightheaded and high. “Just that, huh?” 

“And your snores.” 

You punch his arm. Jungkook laughs and gathers your hair, pulling it away from your face, stroking it down your back. A grin of your own curls your mouth. You don’t snore, at all. And you tell him. 

“You do when you’re tired.” You gasp, lifting your hand again but he catches it in time, intertwining your fingers with his. “You did such a good job today. You learn well from me. Sounded just like me. Made me proud.” He strokes your hair again and you lean into his touch, even though you don’t believe him. You could’ve done a lot better and it could’ve ended just like you planned—fucking him with that fleshlight. You guess you can save that for another time. 

You shake your head. “I messed up.” 

“But you didn’t.” He angles his head, inching closer so the gravity of his words can pierce your mind, but it does no such thing. You still have one of your own. Solid as a rock. 

“No, I shouldn’t have forgotten the lube. It ruined everything.” 

Jungkook sighs, drawing back, fondling the back of your hand before he lets go of it and clutches the nape of your neck. “Sex isn’t meant to be perfect. You didn’t ruin anything, why do you think that?” He looks at you for a long time, but you can’t take it—you drop your gaze, still feeling terrible. He calls you by your name, firmly. “Who made you think sex is meant to be perfect, huh? Bring them to me.” 

You laugh, softly, at the ridiculousness of his question. It’s him who owns your virginity—you’ve never been with anyone else before him. It’s your own expectations that make you think that. “Right here.” You point to your brain. 

Jungkook kisses your forehead. Lingers there, giving you a million tiny pecks, as if erasing everything from there that he doesn’t like. It touches you, deeply, and you can’t stop yourself from submitting to it as it melts your brain. Your mouth rounds in a pout, your bottom lip jutting out and when he gazes down upon you and sees it, he coos at you, kissing it. “I made a mistake, too, didn’t I?” You remain silent—still think he didn’t do anything wrong. “But it was still amazing and we came together, didn’t we?” 

He’s right; you’ll give him that. “You really liked it?” 

He pecks you, vehemently, on the lips and then points to the fleshlight behind him in all its glory, dripping with cum. So much fucking cum that it makes a puddle on the hardwood floor. “Do you think I would’ve cummed this much if I didn’t? Tell me, baby.” 

You swear, unable to take your eyes off of the quantity of his male essence. It draws you in, magnetically, and you obey its call, lifting the fleshlight with your hands, turning around so Jungkook sees and darting out your tongue—

“Don’t.” 

You swipe the muscle across the silicone hole, collecting his ivory arousal. Most of it trickles down your neck and bare chest and it’s Jungkook now who swears, loudly. Grabs you by your waist and, flinging the toy away, he kisses you. You didn’t even have the time to swallow. He’s tasting himself on your tongue and it causes you to moan into his mouth. He taps the back of your thighs and you jump, wrapping your legs around his torso. You don’t know where he’s taking you, but at this point you give zero fucks. 

His tender bedding grazes your back when he lays you down on it with a harsh thud, breaking the kiss and taking your breath away. Bottom lip between his teeth, he studies your soiled body with his cum, kneeling on the bed by your form. He takes his first two fingers and collects his evidence of pleasure, flicking his eyes to yours. You meet him halfway, expecting him to plunge those digits in your mouth and you’re ecstatic, wanting it badly, but Jungkook pushes you down. 

In fact, he turns you around—ass up, face down. With just one hand. 

You swear, your arousal gaining new intensity. And it’s your needy hole that he plunges his fingers in, briefly stuffing you with his cum, placing his free hand on your lower back so you can arch your spine for him more. Then, he rubs your clit in hard, slow circles, making you cry out, making your legs tremble all over again—

A spank. A brassy, cacophonous spank that drives you forward, forcing you to grip onto the sheets. 

“I told you not to do that, didn’t I?” Jungkook rasps. Doesn’t alleviate the burn. “Answer me.” 

Fuck. “Yeah, you told me not to do that.” 

You brace yourself for another spank, but it doesn’t come. You feel his lips by your ear, his body heat cocooning you as he bends over you, his fists, pitifully, on either side of your back. 

“You’re such a filthy little girl. Licking my cum off like that? Making me hard all over again for you?” he tsks, the sound making you even needier. For him, for his cock, even for another spank. You grind your ass against his hip and he maneuvers so his cock slips between your cheeks. Swears, such guttural noise that you mewl in response. “You just do what you want, huh? I guess you don’t love your Daddy anymore.” 

He spanks you again, harder than before, and your vowel of disagreement breaks at the concoction of pain and pleasure coursing through your body. “No—no, I love you.” 

Another spank. Lips by your ear again, his body clinging to your side. “You love me?” He clamps your mouth shut, preventing you from answering. 

You do, anyways, your words muffled. “I love you. I love you so much.” 

Jungkook hums in question. “What did you say? I couldn’t hear you.” He digs his fingers harder into your cheek, other hand rounding around your hip and attacking you with bolts of pleasure that make you quiver against him—rubbing your clit rapidly before he sinks his fingers inside you… and merely keeps them there. 

You move his hand away and he lets you, holding it, panting. “I love you so much.” 

Jungkook groans, sinking his fingers deeper. “Who do you love, hm?” 

He wants you to say his rightful title and you do, with all your heart. “You, Daddy. I love you.” 

At your words, Jungkook begins to pump his fingers and you cry out, placing your head on his palm, taking it. “Such a good fucking girl, making me crazy—” He growls, pressing a fat kiss on your cheek, curling his fingers slowly into that place that causes your breath to hitch in your throat, your orgasm quick to catch up to you. “Good little girl that loves her Daddy, fuck. I’m gonna give you everything. Gonna eat that little pussy, hm? You want that? Want Daddy to make you come with his tongue?” 

You squeak when he gives you one particular, hard stroke against your special place, mind numbing, a dam broken. “Yes, yes, please, Daddy, please—”

He draws away, instantly. Traces your back with his palms as he straightens, smearing your feminine essence all over your skin that he licks up. And then, his mouth—

Jungkook takes you in his mouth. All of you. Licking against your clit, sucking it, rubbing his face in your cunt and groaning against her. His hands squeeze your ass, painting it redder and he flicks your little bundle of nerves with his tongue until he senses your orgasm. Then, he pulls away for a second, stalling it. Thumbs your other, puckered hole. 

“My pretty little pussy. All mine.”

Mewling, you shake your ass for him and he growls, cursing, spanking your cheek, taking the flesh in his hand and squeezing it. Again and again, until you feel yourself drip, until you feel him spread your legs wider and nudge himself between them, opening his mouth for it to trickle down upon his tongue. 

“Sit up. Ride my face.” 

You moan before you even obey, sitting down on his tongue and grinding your pussy on it. He rolls it against you, back and forth, following your rhythm. Slow and romantic, kissing your clit every once in a while, sucking it as you keep up your movement, inching dangerously close to your orgasm. He’s in absolute control of you, though. Of your pleasure and climax, stalling it before beckoning it forth again. You lose yourself in it, in the profound and all consuming delight toying with all your nerve endings, creating something within you that diffuses you with confidence and allure, that inclines you to ride him harder, whimper a little louder and knead your breast until you leave your handprint in your wake. 

He lets you do your thing, but as you saw earlier today, there’s only so much that he can take. 

Clasping your hips, he angles them until your hole is at level with his nimble tongue, guiding you to lean back and use his chest to hold yourself steady. And like his fingers, he fucks you with the muscle, curling it each time. The filthy noise of your slick and his saliva, his breaths and hums, your obscene moans and then his thumb rubbing your clit rapidly—it’s enough, with his evident permission, for you to come. 

And you come so hard that you sprinkle his face with your dew. 

He laughs in utter joy, humming—humming deeply and you’re so obsessed with that sound that you come again, shuddering violently and he spanks you, holds you by your waist, digging in his fingerprints, allowing you to ride out your high, to use him until you’re so boneless that you slump against him. 

Jungkook drags you down, though, slipping, instantly, his cock inside of you. And it’s wild, wild butterflies that you feel in your gut owing to it, then pain so acute that you whine. Enveloping his arms around you, tightly, with no way of escaping, his wet face is so tender that you coo at him amidst the rush of your colorful feelings. Wipe away your dew, giggling, kissing him loudly as his cock adjusts in you and the bite from overstimulation withers little by little.

“You can take it, I know you can,” Jungkook whispers, beaming up at you, iridescent. “You feel so good around me. So tight. I love being inside of you.” 

Slowly, he begins to move, causing your features to scrunch up. In discomfort at first, then in relish as your stiffened nipples rub against the hardness of his chest. 

“You’re my good little girl. You take everything I give you so well. So well.” Jungkook picks up his pace, gathering your hair in his fist. Doesn’t pull on it; merely holds it. You whimper, his words loosening the overbearing tightness of your walls. “I’m gonna take care of you. You’re just my little baby. Mine—” A hard thrust. Your eyes roll back. “My baby.” 

“Yes, I’m yours,” you croak out and Jungkook takes your face in his hands and pounds into you until all you see is stars. Pretty, pretty twinkling stars. 

Slapping skin, his grunts—you don’t even see your orgasm coming, coming over you so violently and yet in such an exhilarating way. Your dew forces him out, forces his chuckles out again and he brings you back to him, kissing you, plunging his cock back with ease. 

You’re so lightheaded that you feel like an angel, soaring in the sky. An angel that years for something more. And you tell him. “Jungkook, please, I want the vibrator.” 

He merely smiles at you, arm reaching over and pulling out the toy for you from his bedside table. Turning it on, you’re radiated by the light in his eyes and you whimper in impatience. Jungkook shushes you, like a baby, clicking on the intensity until he’s satisfied, placing it on your clit. 

And then he gets up. 

Pushes you against his closet, back against the wood, legs around his waist, vibrator on your clit and his hand clasped around your mouth, preventing your loud moans from escaping while letting you know how much he loves being in charge. Giving you hard strokes that secure him your soul on a silver platter before he fucks you so fast that you can’t see anything. Your surroundings are a blur while his face remains clear, painted in tortured pleasure for you as if he were holding himself back. 

“Come for me, Daddy,” you beg under his palm, your sound muffled, but it seems that Jungkook understands you. 

Pulling away, he turns you around and gets into position again. One hand around your mouth, the other holding the toy on your clit, his dick inside. He begins to play with you, not moving his hips at all, only the vibrator. Panting against the crook of your neck, he takes a second to merely breathe with you while you’re on the pathway to another mind blowing orgasm because he turns up the intensity. “How about you come for Daddy first, hm? I know you don’t need me to move when we do this. You can come just like this. So come.” 

And you do, embarrassingly, whining all over the place, twisting your hips to chase your pleasure, causing him to emit the same sounds—causing him to pound you so hard against his closet that he, too, comes in mere minutes. His fingers in your mouth, he’s loud and just as whiny as you, fucking you through his orgasm as you play with digits, sucking on them. 

He doesn’t pull away for a long time. Presses you against his chest and holds you like that, still connected. The vibrator buzzes on the floor, the air is stuffed, but you’re content, the happiest angel, held and stuffed, too. With cum and dick. Heaven on earth. 

Jungkook begins to kiss your neck, marking you there. Fondles your nipples, making you shudder and sigh, making you utter the three words that he deserves. 

“I love you, Ggukie.” 

Jungkook makes a sound that tears you apart. A whimper; the whiniest you ever heard him be. He pulls out of you, but stuffs you again with his fingers. Makes you squirt in record time, kissing you everywhere he can reach. Neck, shoulder, jaw, cheek and lips. 

You must be soaring again in the clouds because you can’t feel your body, especially not when Jungkook says, “I love you, my little squirter.” 

Your knees do give out, after all. Jungkook is quick to pick you up and cradle you in his arms. Wash you clean in the shower. Put on a movie for you while making you food, joining you as soon as he can. 

It’s love you feel—love most profound. And as you eat the food together and finish the wine with drenched Vinny on the other side of the couch, you fall asleep with that love thrumming in your heart. 

You’ll be his for the rest of your life. And he’ll be yours, too. 

© 2024 hoseoksluna, all rights reserved.

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[daycourtofficial]

Falling in Love on the Fourth Floor

Azriel x reader

Summary: you move in with a guy you kind of know who happens to have a really hot brother.

Author’s Note: this is part 1 baby!! Likely 5-6 parts, that is currently what I have planned for this. This part is shorter to set things up for later okay love you 😘

(Part 2)

“Mor I don’t know about living with your long term hook up.”

She rolls her eyes, her blonde hair blowing in the wind over facetime. “He’s great - he’s super sweet, super funny, and he’s really hot. Besides, you’ve already signed the lease. It’s too late to back out now.”

You sit in the u-haul you rented, filled to the brim with your belongings, waiting for the leasing office to open so you can grab your keys. You had just pulled up, deciding to call Mor while you wait the ten minutes for them to arrive.

“I don’t know, Mor. What if this was a mistake?”

You chew your lip while thinking about all the ways this could go poorly. She smiles, her face taking up the screen of your phone. “Sweetie, it’s going to be fine. I’ve known him for a long time. He’s friends with my cousin. Worst case scenario you move out at the end of the year into a new apartment.”

She was right, of course. At worst it would be a year. You’ve met Cassian a few times, Mor bringing him to a couple parties and casual get togethers. You were always awed by his warm presence and ease around anybody, qualities that are great when you’re moving in with someone you hardly know.

You nod your head agreeing, but spot someone walking towards the leasing office. “Hey I gotta go Mor - leasing office person is here. I’ll call you tonight?”

She shakes her head, “I can’t tonight - stupid dinner with stupid family. I’ll have pizzas sent to your place, how’s that?”

You smile, her absence one out of familial obligation. She hated her parents, but they also funded her degree so you couldn’t be upset at the one-off events she had to attend to appease them. You also know she tried to get out of the event tonight, but ultimately you’re glad that there’s a now zero chance your new roommate and your best friend will have sex while you’re moving in.

You pick up the keys, sign last minute paperwork, and hop into the elevator to ride up to the fourth floor. You keep reciting the apartment number to yourself, having double checked with the office and with Mor. You find it, situated at the end of the hall with one other apartment next to it.

You run through how this could go in your head - you could unlock the door and have Cassian be pissed off because he wasn’t sure when you’d be arriving. You could wait for him to come out and act like you were just walking up at the same time. Or you could knock on the door, which you find yourself doing.

The door swings in a moment after your knock and you find Cassian looking at you, a confused expression on his face. Despite the early hour, Cassian doesn’t look like he just woke up. In fact, his hair is tied up in a half bun, he’s dressed in a shirt with the sleeves ripped off (allowing his tattooed biceps to be on full display) and some sweatpants, and you can smell bacon and eggs wafting through the door.

“Why’d you knock - did they forget to give you a key?”

Your cheeks heat with embarrassment, this whole situation leaving you uncertain of what to do at each turn. You look up at him as he stands in the doorframe waiting for your answer. Cassian’s a big guy, easily clearing a foot and several hundred pounds of muscles on you.

“Uh- no they did, I just didn’t want to disturb you.”

He looks at you and you’re certain he can feel the nerves radiating off of you. He chuckles and tells you, “not much disturbs me.”

He opens the door more, allowing you to come in. You hadn’t toured the place before signing a lease, your desperation leading you here without many other options. Living in a college town had it’s benefits, however finding a new place to live in July was not one of them. Not a single complex had a room for you. It was either stay with Cassian or crash on Feyre’s couch in her studio apartment.

The place is decently nice - to your left you see the living room with two couches that face quite possibly one of the largest televisions you’ve ever seen. You peer to your right, the kitchen a little bare but clean. You spy the pan and plate that Cassian had clearly just used to eat his breakfast.

“I can give you a tour,” he tells you, “it’s not much but it’s home.”

You take note of the in-unit washer dryer in a closet off the kitchen facing the front door. “Just don’t leave things in the washing machine,” Cassian told you, “pet peeve of mine is wet laundry sitting. Smells awful.”

He shows you where to find all three remotes for the tv and what each remote does, information your brain likely will never remember. He pulls up to one door, opening it slightly. “This is my room,” he says softly due to you being right behind him. He walks to another door, opening it to show a small bathroom. “This is the extra bathroom - this is usually where guests go.”

You two reach the final door, and as he’s opening it he tells you, “and this will be your room.”

You step in and look around the bare room, feeling so small in such a vast and empty space. The room’s not large by any means, but it’s yours. It’s your first step into independence and that feels vast. There’s no furniture, just a router on the floor that makes you chuckle. The blinds are drawn, the soft light peaking through illuminating the cream colored walls.

It feels like freedom. It feels like this place could be a home.

Cassian, the saint of a man that he is, offers to help bring up your boxes. The two of you make quick work of bringing up all of your worldly possessions, frequent occupants of the building’s sole elevator.

He even helps you bring up the bed frame and mattress you had to buy, just barely fitting into the elevator with both.

The two of you passed the time idly, occasional words spoken between you. Sometimes he’d laugh about the organization of your boxes - one box reading both “tampons” and “fall semester textbooks”.

Eventually everything is up in your room, the space cluttered with your boxes and various things. Cassian offered to help you with the bed frame, and when you asked him if he was doing anything else today, he told you, “I cleared my schedule. Wanted to help my new roommate settle.” He winked at you and you smiled back. You suddenly recall Mor describing Cassian as a “generous lover” once and you can totally see it. The man’s love language was clearly acts of service if today was anything to go by.

The two of you set up the bed frame, bickering over the instructions. No one, not even sweet, gentle giant Cassian is immune to the frustrations of lackluster instructions.

As you’re picking up the mattress and placing it in the frame, Cassian starts speaking. “I should probably mention that my brothers live next door. They’ll probably be over now and again.”

That piques your interest. Setting down the mattress with a huff you ask, “why don’t you live with them?”

Cassian shrugs, looking away from you, “I was initially offered a scholarship at another school, but I got injured, lost my scholarship, so came to my back up school. By then my brothers already had their own place, but they were able to set me up in the same building. That was three years ago and moving is a bitch so we’ve just kept this arrangement. Sometimes whenever Az and Rhys are butting heads I let one of them stay here in my room and I take theirs, but otherwise it’s worked out pretty well.”

You look at him, and you know there’s a bit more to the story by how sad his eyes look at the memory. He offered a piece of himself, so you offer a piece of yourself in return.

“My parents kicked me out,” you tell him, scratching the back of your neck. “They uh don’t really approve of me or my plans, so I got the boot.”

You rub your arms, making yourself as small as they make you feel. “They um weren’t very good parents and I finally stood up for myself and they didn’t like that. They have since disowned me and don’t really want anything to do with me.”

You bounced up and down on your toes during your admission and Cassian’s eyes soften as he looks at you, practically a stranger. You two had met a handful of times, his fling with Mor lasting a few months. He walks out of the room, and you’re worried you’ve offered too much, until you hear the fridge door open and close and he returns with two beer bottles. He opens both with his teeth, causing you to inhale sharply, thinking about a chipped tooth. He hands one to you, holding his out to toast. He speaks after your two glasses make a soft clink.

“Mor knew I had a spare room. The leasing office only charges me for my room, so it’s no big deal. Haven’t done much with it, except use the shower when my drain was clogged.”

He takes a sip and looks around your new room before continuing. “She begged me to let you come here. Told me you were one of the kindest, hardest working people she knew.”

You smile, looking up at your new roommate, “she said that?”

“She also said you had a great ass and an incredible rack.”

You throw your head back laughing. “That sounds like Mor.”

The two of you drink in silence, the weariness of the past few weeks creeping into your bones. Maybe Cassian won’t be so bad to live with after all.

Several hours later you and Cassian were setting up one of your bookshelves when someone walked through the door, a delicious smell permeating the apartment.

“Cass, I’m here with pizzas. When’s the “great rack” supposed to get here?”

You and Cassian are on the floor of your room and before he can respond, you yell back, “the great rack got here about five hours ago.”

You hear muttered cursing when a beautiful male walks in, his short cropped black hair pushed back. Rhysand - Mor’s cousin. You recognized his almost violet eyes and sharp features from her family photos littering her desk, as well as her determination to convince your friend Feyre to go on a date with him. He was taller in person, but not as tall as Cassian.

“My apologies, you know how Mor can get with her physical descriptions of people.”

You laugh, screwing in a shelf. “All is forgiven. There are much worse things to be known as or called. Mor has quite the mouth on her - you should hear her talk about Cassian.” You say, pointing your head in his direction.

His head raises from the instruction booklet he’s reading to ask, “what does she say about me?”

“I believe the words “tree trunk” have been used to describe certain body parts on multiple occasions.”

Your new guest barks a laugh, shaking his head. “Well, I brought pizzas should either of you desire them.”

“That’s really sweet but I couldn’t impose-“

Cassian cuts you off, holding a hand up to stop your sentence. “Too late. You’ve imposed. Guess you have to eat the pizza. Besides I hear the best way to keep a great rack is to keep it fed.”

You smile, thinking that maybe this won’t be so hard. It was a rash decision, living with Cassian. You couldn’t stay at home, your parents had made that abundantly clear. Your plans had been to live with them until you graduated in the spring, wanting to save money on housing.

After all the shelves and furniture were set up in your room, you found yourself sitting on the couch with Cassian and Rhysand, pizza boxes on the coffee table in front of you. Rhys, he had told you to call him, had started a movie that was the third in a series. He spent twenty minutes explaining to you the plot of the first two movies. They sounded like generic action movies to you, but you let him go on about the intricacies of the plot and how cool the main character was.

Halfway through the movie the front door opens and closes softly, and all three of you turn to look at the tall man who entered. He was fit, not as muscular as Cassian was, but still toned, even through his shirt. Onyx curls adorned the top of his head, coming close to blocking his hazel eyes. You’re not sure if you’re even breathing looking at him as he looks around the room.

“Azzy, meet my roommate.”

Azzy, as Cassian called him, looked to Cassian to scold him for the nickname before his eyes met yours.

“Azriel’s fine.”

“Oh, okay,” you laugh, telling him your name with a little wave of your hand. His eyes are still on yours, as if he’s trying to commit to memory the name to the face.

“Mor’s friend, right?”

“Yeah, great ass, incredible rack,” Cassian responds, mining out an hourglass figure with his hands. You kick his foot, telling him “is this how you’re going to introduce me from now on.”

He winces as your foot makes contact with his shin, rubbing the afflicted area. “I mean it tells you everything you need to know about someone. You guys can just start calling me ‘big peen’.”

Rhys chuckles, then starts taking a sip of his drink as you tell Cassian, “I think they’d just call you big head, mysterious third nipple.”

Cassian gasps, eyes widening as Rhys spits out his drink, “I can’t BELIEVE Mor told you that about me!”

Rhys gets up, walking to the linen closet to grab a towel to dry off his shirt. Azriel walks to the fridge, grabbing a beer before heading to sit next to Cassian on the other couch as the two of you continue to bicker. As he walks past, you swear you feel every bit of contact as his legs brush past yours.

And if Azriel’s eyes lingered on you as he sat down - you might just have made that up too.

[gayphob1a]

STWG Daily Drabble 9/30/23

prompt: drunk talk

“Ssteeeve! Over.” Dustin’s voice comes over the radio, staticky and slurred.

It’s 1 AM, Steve has a shift first thing in the morning, and he really should be sleeping, but he’s been nervously awaiting this call all night. His kids are finally leaving the nest, going to their first party and he knew this meant they would be calling him for a ride at some point, so he kept the volume up on his radio. When he doesn’t answer fast enough, a whole chorus of clumsy voices crackle over the radio. 

“Steven Anita Harrington! Over.” Mike starts giggling like a mad man at the very incorrect middle name he’s decided to give Steve. In the background, Steve is pretty sure he can hear someone throwing up.

“Are you guys okay?” Steve asks, and then after a moment of silence, adds: “Over.”

“Thank you, Steven! We are great! Over.” There’s a cacophony of giggles and Steve is pretty sure they forgot why they even called,

“Do you need a ride? Over.” 

“To where? Over.” 

“Y- Dumbass, to your homes. Okay stay where you are, I'm coming to get you.” Steve zips a hoodie halfway up his bare chest, too tired and annoyed to put a shirt on, and grabs his keys on the way out the door. He’d had the good sense to make them tell them who was throwing the party, and a couple minutes later, he’s pulling up to a house that’s not too far from his own. He spots his gaggle of drunkards immediately, the lot of them huddled around the radio, shaking it and hitting the side like it’ll split at the seams and drop candy. “Hey! Dumbasses! Get in the car,” he hollers.

Dustin, Mike, and Lucas look up from the radio, dumbfounded. “Steve, what are you doing here?” Lucas asks.

“Dude, I just told you I was coming to pick you up.”

Mike scoffs and puts an arm around Will who, yup that definitely was puking he heard, because Will is doubled over in the bushes. “You didn’t say ‘over’, dumbass.”

“Just get in the car! You guys are sleeping at mine tonight, or your parents will kill me for letting this happen.” The boys stumble towards the car, fighting over the handle for the front seat when a large hand appears out of nowhere and pushes them out of the way.

“Nuh uh kiddos, respect your elders. I ride shotgun.” Eddie says, swaying only a fraction as bad as the kids. They grumble, but agree and help Will into the backseat. “And a good evening to you, boys.” Eddie says, staring directly at Steve’s chest. 

From the back seat there’s a chorus of “Boo! Weak! Do better!” Even from Will, who is barely holding his head up off Mike’s shoulder. Eddie takes the challenge as Steve starts driving back to his house.

“I’ve always wanted to live in the jungle,” he says. Steve has to swat Eddie’s hand away from running through his chest hair, desperately trying to be annoyed and not aroused in front of the kids. But Eddie knows Steve knows he has a thing for his hair, and Steve has a thing for anything that gets Eddie riled up. 

“What are you even doing here, Eds? I thought you were at home.”

“Team bonding?” Eddie tries.

“He was selling drugs!” Dustin hollers, absolutely zero control over his volume. 

Eddie whips around in his seat to yell “You motherfucker!” at Dustin.

“Nope,” the kid retorts. “Pretty sure that’s you.”

When they pull into Steve’s driveway, he orders the kids to go to the living room and go to sleep. The boys slowly fumble their way out of the car and through the front door, all the while Eddie stares at Steve with a lusty fire burning in his eyes. 

“You wore that just to torture me, didn’t you?” Eddie asks.

“Eddie, I didn’t even know you were at the party. Come on, let’s get you to bed.”

“OR we could stay out here and fog up these windows.”

“Nice try, my beautiful little distillery, you are far too drunk. Now be a good boy and get in bed, and maybe I’ll let you pet me you little weirdo.”

Eddie unbuckles and throws the door open so fast that he trips over his feet and face plants getting out of the car. He hops up, no worse for wear, and turns around to salute Steve. “Sir, yes sir!” He yells, and sprints through the house to Steve’s bedroom.

[lucysarah-c]

Fifteen, what an age to be alive. Dad!Levi

Summary: Steal your father's car! What could go wrong? Author note: Since the Marley world seemed to be around the 30s-40s, I’ll set this idea in a world that looks like the mid-50s. This is POST WAR. Warnings: Cursing 'cause Levi, obv. And slightly mention of a group taking advantage of a girl, nothing really happens and there's no graphic description at all. Word count: 3.9k Pairing: Dad! Levi x Mom! Reader

His hands gripped the big round wheel of the car as his eyes scanned the dark night with a nervous smile, quickly turning into clenched teeth. His attention shifted to the passenger seat, soft as if it was a scene from one of the horror pictures he saw at the drive-in.

A light blond girl lay unconscious, her head resting against the door, appearing lifeless. She wore a typical sleeveless red button-up shirt and very short white shorts, with white socks crumpled down to double-coloured loafers. Her hair was still in a ponytail, exposing her face completely. It was August, plain summer break, and he knew that most of his classmates wore shorts or even swimsuits at the pool or beach. But somehow, her exposure made him blush and feel ashamed, as if even staring felt wrong.

Turning to the back seat of the car, he picked up his letterman jacket and placed it on top of her, covering her as much as possible. It looked big on her, and somehow, Adrien blessed every deity mentioned; he probably was inheriting his father’s uncle’s height and not his father's, a fact becoming rather obvious every day, as he was only 15 and already almost 1.80m.

“Calm down, Adie… you got this,” he whispered to himself, “I’ve no idea what I'm going to do but I got it.”

How did he get into this situation? It was supposed to be a silly night out; one of his friends invited him to a party of the seniors who were graduating from high school that year. What was the issue if he was just a freshman? Fifteen, eighteen, it’s the same! Plus, it was some party at some old forgotten building, half destroyed during the rumbling around ten years ago, in the middle of nowhere. Nothing wrong with that.

Yes, perhaps he stole his father’s keys and car. Yes, perhaps he lied about sleeping in his room. Yes, maybe he stole a bit (a lot) of money from his parents. “I mean… deep down, it’s my father’s fault for not allowing me to come legally,” Adrien argued with his own reflection in the car's mirror.

But everything went downhill when he saw a group of guys dragging a girl who was clearly not feeling well and decided to step in. Now, here he was, the party had turned into a mess as the fight happened, he got kicked out with an unconscious girl, and who knew what they had given her. He hit his forehead against the wheel as time slipped through his fingers; he was supposed to be back home already.

“Fucking shit! Who told me to step in!” he cursed under his breath. Deep down, he knew stepping up for what he had been told was horrendously wrong, knowing he had the strength to fight those assholes back. ‘The curse of being a fucking Ackerman, man,’ he thought.

He had done the right thing, at least one right thing during the entire night, but now he had to face the consequences. Muffled cries mixed with distressed groans filled the car, “My father is going to kill me!”

His forehead kept hitting the wheel repeatedly as if that would knock some common sense into him or perhaps give him a concussion and fake that he had been kidnapped or something. Surrounded by trees in a dead-end road, it wasn’t even paved. Only the footprints of multiple cars to follow back to civilization. The distressed teen didn’t even know where he was; his older friend had guided him there and left with his girlfriend at some point of the party.

Slowly raising his head up again to admire the endless kilometres of dim nothing, contemplating his options, seizing his courage. “Come on, Adie. Be a man, be a man!”

The trees’ branches creaked in the middle of the night, the car slightly swayed under the strong summer wind. “I want my mommy,” he muttered.

Hand on the wheel and turning on the car, one step at a time, he took a deep breath and then decided to go out on the road again. Forgotten somewhere, his father’s car’s papers and driver's license. In them it read “Levi Ackerman.”

Each branch from the forest that scraped the car was a personal pain, praying to any god's existence that it didn’t scratch it. Of course, his father had filled up the tank, obviously he had. Levi was like that, always cautious. Adrien did a personal wish his father had a map stored in the glove compartment, but obviously, he didn’t. After all, Levi knew the streets of the city like the back of his hand. He drove a lot, especially since his legs weren’t what they used to be anymore. Perhaps he didn’t need any support for walking any longer, but walking long distances wasn’t in Levi’s plans anymore.

“Perhaps I can… drive to the hospital, leave her, and like run away,” he contemplated, before groaning loudly, “No, I can’t do that. God, I’m dead.”

‘I could have walked away, but no, Mr. Adrien Ackerman has to be a hero. Mr. Ackerman has to do the right thing.’

Adrien had driven twice in his life; this one was the second. The first was a few years ago when his father sat him down on his lap and let him do it for a little bit. He was happy he hadn’t encountered much traffic and only had to drive ahead because he wasn’t completely sure yet what the third pedal was for.

“I got it, do not worry,” he said, trying to sound reassuring to the unmoving girl on his right. Adrien’s grey eyes checked on her from time to time, but she seemed deeply asleep, or so he hoped. “I’ll get to the hospital in no time, and you’ll be alright,” he promised.

His smile created a couple of dimples on each side of his face, but it quickly faded as fear kicked in. “And if you’re not alright, do not worry. I’ll throw myself off a bridge, and we can be not alright together,” he kept joking as if, by some miracle, the girl would reply.

He didn’t even know her name, and somehow, that made him feel even guiltier. As civilization began to appear and the sky began to lighten up, he lost hope of not dying at the hands of his own progenitor, but he was also hopeful that at least he was getting somewhere without crashing. The sun hadn’t shown up yet, but the deep blue of the sky had a particular glow to it that made it imminent.

The streets were deserted, and rightfully so; it was the middle of the night on a Monday. Adrien tried to park the car as best as he could, finally reaching the only hospital he somehow remembered the route to. Rushing to the other door, he carefully picked her up.

When he crossed the doors of the main hospital, which was almost empty at those hours, the doctors on duty quickly took her in, some searching for identifications inside her clothes. The police officer at the front gates forbade him from leaving the place.

“Alright, please hand me your ID,” the front gate secretary asked after informing him that the girl was out of danger, but she would have to stay for monitoring. Adrien’s suspicious silence made the woman raise her eyes from the form she was filling out to look at him. “You know that carrying IDs is obligatory, right?”

“Yes, madam…” He felt his palm sweating as he feared being taken to the police station.

“How old are you?”

Her voice sounded calm but tired as she quickly understood the issue, “… eighteen.”

With a loud sigh, she took off her cat-eye red glasses and then slowly blinked back at him. “Look kid, I’ve been on night watch for three days straight. I’ve no energy to deal with this.”

Adrien’s eyes remained glued to the floor, feeling small despite his stature. “… fifteen,” he admitted reluctantly.

Her unpleasant groans echoed in the empty walls that reeked of disinfectant. He slowly turned to the gates, and the security guys began to chuckle as they drank coffee. Feeling the need to clarify, he said, “I swear it wasn’t me who hurt her.”

“Kid, people who drug girls don’t carry them to hospitals,” she replied disinterestedly, pouring the information into the typewriter, the typing echoing in the place. Finally, she picked up a post-it with a pencil and raised it to the top of the reception table. “Your parents' contact number, please.”

Her eyes quickly moved to him and then back to her writing as he hesitated to fill out the paper. “You know I’ve done nothing; can’t I just go?” Adrien insisted, trying to escape the situation.

“Kid, you’re breaking national curfew and walking around without identification. A responsible adult must come and sign for you to leave; otherwise, you’ll live here until you turn 18.”

“Could you at least wait until 9 am to call my mother’s work number?” He smiled awkwardly, trying to find a way to avoid his father’s rage. The secretary looked up at the clock; it wasn’t even 5 am and then back to him, deadly. Unpleasant complaining groans echoed as he reluctantly wrote his house’s telephone number. “Sorry.”

Sat down at one of those uncomfortable waiting room’s seats with a latte and chocolate donut he brought at the cafeteria, he waited as someone waits to be hanged. The doctors and nurses moved here and there attending to the few people that came in with emergencies. Until the secretary walked by and said, “Your father picked up the phone; he said that getting the car and coming this way.”

Adrien’s grey eyes quickly turned in fear to check out of the window, grimacing uneasily as he admired the family's car parked outside. “Great…”

The longer it took, the more Adrien knew he was in trouble. Pressing his eyes closed and clenching his jaw, as if he could already feel the kick in his ass. Despite the nerves, his head bobbed forward as he fell asleep, and the tug of falling forward snapped him back awake. At some point, he rested his head on the joined seat and fell asleep, mouth open.

The front gates snapping open woke him up, and he wished to make himself smaller so he could hide behind the back of the seats. But as he turned backwards, Levi was at the front desk talking to the secretary and security guards. His dark hair was a mess, and it seemed like he had just put on some shoes and a shirt because he still had the pyjama pants on. Outside, the cap that his father had probably been forced to take there.

As the secretary picked up the forms for him to fill, his father quickly raised his grey eyes to shoot him across the room the deadliest glance he had yet to witness. ‘Goodbye everybody, it was nice knowing you.’

Avoiding facing death, Adrien remained seated, giving his back, but he quickly heard the footsteps of his father, characterized by the slight hobble he had after the war. With his presence looming, he looked down at Adrien, who slowly raised his attention up.

Smiling innocently, “Hi, dad.”

Levi didn’t smile back; quite the opposite, he frowned even more and extended his right hand that was missing two fingers. “My fucking keys.”

The teen searched for them inside his jeans and quietly handed them over with puppy eyes. Levi snapped them, but his hand didn’t withdraw. “And my damn money.” Repeating the same action but with the bills, Levi grabbed them and began to count. “And the rest?”

Adrien mumbled some incoherent groans as he refused to make eye contact. “Tch,” Levi clicked his tongue and gripped his shirt neck, raising him from his seat, pushing him to the exit. “Get in the fucking car.”

The walk of shame only accentuated as his father's angry tone didn’t match the polite one he used to greet the secretary and guards on his way out. He cowered in the passenger seat, trying to make himself a tiny ball as Levi slammed the door shut. Loud sighs that didn’t withdraw the deep frown before he turned on the car again.

“You’re so fucking wrong if you think I’ll stand this type of behaviour; I'm telling you,” Levi spat the words as he drove back home. “What the hell were you thinking?!”

“Adrien!” Levi insisted as the kid didn’t even reply, looking to his right as he waited at a red light. “You don’t want to talk? Fine, fucking ungrateful brat. You know how fucking worried your mother was when we received a call from the shitty hospital? Eh?”

“The drive-in the other day, the supposed hang out at your friend’s house that you were never fucking there, and now this. Are you fucking proud?” the ex-captain of the scouts kept going as his eyes were glued to the road despite only one of them working anymore. “You’re grounded, you’re so fucking grounded that I’ll fucking die, and you’ll have to get a damn Ouija board to contact me to see if you can go out to buy groceries.”

The teen just silently rolled his eyes as the long list of unhappiness of his father about his behaviour couldn’t care less. “Don’t you dare to roll your eyes on me, brat. You heard me? Drop that fucking attitude.” Somehow his father always seemed to have eyes everywhere. “Happy now? You ruined your entire summer break; beg all you want later on. You’re not leaving the house.”

“As if you’d let me go out anyway,” Adrien murmured mockingly under his breath.

“What?” Levi demanded. “If you’re going to have the guts to steal MY car, MY money, and break MY orders, then grow the guts to speak the fuck up.”

“That you never let me go anywhere!” Adrien shouted back angrily.

“For what? To go to this damn party in the middle of nowhere to hang out with fucking rapists and get

shit-faced?” Levi argued back. “You think I was born yesterday? I know exactly which places I don’t want you to get involved with. You think you’ve everything figured out, but that’s not it, Adrien! You’re 14! Fourteen!”

“I’m fifteen!”

“You turned fifteen two weeks ago, for fuck’s sake!” Levi shouted, slightly turning to his right before focusing back on the road. “I’m telling you, better fix your attitude or this is not going to end well. You may be getting big and feel cocky, but you won’t play smart-ass with me. You can grow up to be as tall as the fucking Colossal Titan, and yet you would do whatever the fuck I tell you!”

“I did the right thing! I stood up for her; I’m not stupid enough to do whatever my classmates do. Why can’t you see that?!” Adrien complained as they reached the front of the house, and Levi stopped the car.

“’Cause you were stupid enough to steal my car even when you don’t know how to fucking drive!” Levi complained as he got out of the car, walking to the front door. He kept going with the lecture but lower as he didn’t want to wake up the neighbours. “You don’t like it? Choose another father in your next life; in this one, it’s me, and I’m not going to let my teenage kid not give a fuck about the decisions I take. I’ve gone through too much shit for a fucking brat to tell me what I believe is the best for them.”

They both walked in, and Levi locked the door behind them. The room was still dim for the early hours, and their dog greeted them enthusiastically. The keys dropping at the front plate echoed loudly, and the tuxedo cat of the family finally appeared to rub himself against the legs of the teen, who quietly picked him up. Y/N quickly rushed to check on her kid.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt? Did they hurt you somewhere?” She seemed clearly agitated, and Adrien remained with his eyes glued to the floor.

“No, mom,” he murmured, downcast. “I’m fine.”

“Oi, to your damn room,” Levi quickly ordered. “and clean it up; I won’t say it again.”

The kid left, cursing under his breath as he went upstairs and slammed the front door shut.

“What happened?” she asked Levi, who was preparing himself a tea to calm down, enveloping herself in a negligee.

“What happened? That kid is driving me nuts, that’s what's happening,”

Y/N sighed loudly, positioning herself behind her husband and running her hands through his arms, seeking to provide some comfort. She then switched to hugging him from behind. “He’s going through a phase… his new classmates are mostly kids who survived the rumbling, and some of them aren’t the best influence. He just wants to fit in, you know how important that is at his age.”

“Tch,” Levi kept facing the countertop, murmuring as the anger didn’t quickly wash away. But eventually, he closed his eyes and sighed loudly as the adrenaline slowed down. “The audacity of that kid, where the hell does he get it?”

Y/N couldn't help but chuckle against his back, “MH, I wonder,” she said sarcastically. “If they were still around, perhaps we could have asked some senior MPs… perhaps they could enlighten us on how you were as a teen,”

“I wasn’t like that,” Levi softly replied, almost ashamed of the point out.

“No haha you were worse,” Y/N was entertained as she kissed his shoulder blades tenderly. “Or do I have to remind you how you made me sneak out to meet you after curfew?”

“That’s different…”

Forcing him to turn around to place a kiss on his scar as she caressed his face softly, “He’s your kid,” she murmured against his lips. “He hates to be told what to do and has the strength to know he can get out of almost any situation. Asking him to be submissive is like asking him not to be an Ackerman; he got it in his genes,”

Levi just groaned, accepting the caress, her loving his face as if he was brand new and the residues of the war had never happened.

Days passed by, and while the mood in the house was slowly returning to calmness, the punishment still stood, and Adrien was reading in his bedroom, suffering the heat of summer without being able to go out with his friends. He couldn’t even play his record player because if in normal cases his father tolerated him to play his favourite bands loudly, now he was almost cursed to quietness. Levi didn’t seem to be very fond of Rock; perhaps Paradise music was too behind, and the period of adaptation was lacking. It sounded like loud noise to him.

A quiet knock at the front door was heard, mostly because the dog that was resting beside him in his bed raised hastily and rushed downstairs. The noise was almost imperceptible as his father was vacuuming the living room’s carpet while his mother prepared dinner. Adrien was about to raise himself from his bed and open the door himself, but the overwhelmingly loud noise of the vacuum stopped, so he guessed his father was on it.

Levi opened the front door without checking; he had faced so many adversities in life that he hardly doubted that anyone who rang his bell at 6 pm on a Thursday in their quiet family neighbourhood was a threat. “Yes?” he crossed his arms as he admired the young girl at the front gates. She was wearing the usual outfit of the time, white and brown loafers, crumpled low white socks, an inflated pastel yellow skirt that was tightly around her waist with a white blouse. The matching light cardigan was hanging from her shoulders, but she didn’t seem to put it on, another thing that Levi thought was some stupid new fashion trend from teens. That and his son’s imperious necessity to fold the sleeves of his t-shirts. High ponytail and blushed cheeks.

“Good evening, Mr. Ackerman,” The girl greeted him with kindness and politeness.

“Hello,” Levi replied, almost uninterested, his usual unfriendly nature not withdrawn even after years of not being on service.

“I was wondering if Adrien is at home,” she asked, and Levi wished he could roll his eyes at how almost immediately the girl blushed at the mention of his son’s name. “I’m the girl from the other night; I wanted to thank him…” seeing Levi’s slight frown at the memory of that early morning, she nervously added, “And you, of course, for what he did for me,” The young girl handed a package that was easily deduced to be a cake.

“He’s grounded,” Levi quickly replied. “And you don’t need to thank him; he did the only right thing to do. I don’t raise abusers,”

“Oh…” the disappointment in her voice was palpable, “Well, but please at least take the cake? For all the inconvenience,”

“No, kid, it’s alright-”

“Hi, sweetie! Adrien will be down in a minute!” Y/N popped behind Levi, slightly pushing him to the side and smiling softly at the girl. “Do you want to wait inside?”

Levi looked at his wife, confused and slightly offended by how quickly she overstepped him in the conversation.

“Ah, no, it’s alright; I don’t want to be a bother-”

Adrien appeared behind his parents, wondering what the whole issue was, and his mother quickly pushed him forward. “There he is!” She added while tugging Levi back inside. “Let’s give him some space,” she whispered to her husband, who was refusing to move.

“Oi,” Levi complained as he was forced back inside.

Both parents faking to be doing something in the living room to not be seen; Levi wasn’t spying, but his wife was. “She’s so cute,” she whispered, “and she’s crushing so much on him.”

Levi clicked his tongue, “He’s tall. All girls of that age crush on tall boys,” he argued back.

Y/N chuckled and turned to look at him, “talking from experience?”

“Ha ha,” Levi faked a sarcastic laugh. “He’s supposed to be grounded,”

“Shh, I can’t hear!” She hushed him back and then moved slightly as Levi joined her next to the window.

“Great,” Levi said annoyed, “she’s fucking bonnie,”

Confusion was written all over his wife's face as she grimaced dazed and raised an eyebrow, silently asking how those words could be said with such disappointment.

“Now I won’t only have to buy him all those stupid vinyl records, textbooks, and uniforms for the school team, but I’ll also have to start buying condoms; there goes my fucking salary,”

Tags!: @nube55 @justkon @notgoodforlife @nmlkys @humanitys-strongest-bamf @quillinhand @thoreeo @darkstarlight82 @i-literally-cant-with-this @angelofthorr @aomi04 @levisbrat25 @fxnnyackerman @secretmoneybearvoid @s0meb0dy-0nce-t0ld-me @trashblackrainbow @l3visthighs @hum4n-wr3ckag3 @hannieslovebot @feelingsandemotionsnotexplored @flxrartsstuff @starrylevi @rithty @mariaace @ackrmntea @emilyyyy-08 Wanna join my tag list? Here!

[snowysosturn]

Speeding Car - Matt Sturniolo Part 5

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 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29

Pairing : y/n x Matt Sturniolo

Summary : After six years with your boyfriend Alex, you start mentally check out. At a UCLA party, Alex reconnects with his childhood friend Emily, who proposes a double date with her boyfriend Matt. Your attraction to Matt grows as he pays you the first real attention you've had in years, sparking a complicated emotional journey.

Warnings : MDNI, unhappy relationship, mentions of hangover, angst

The start of the new semester at UCLA brought a sense of urgency and routine that clashed with my internal chaos. Alex was excited, his schedule packed with classes and Bruins practice. Meanwhile, I struggled to shake off the lingering thoughts about Matt and Emily from the party, the Instagram follow, and my relationship dying out. I couldn’t tell anymore if my embarrassment was first or second hand. But today was a new day, and I had to focus.

I made Alex a protein packed breakfast this morning, I had the day off so I had the time.

“Thanks Y/n” Alex said as he gave me a pat on the back.

A pat on the back.

He took the last few bites of his meal and grabbed the keys to the car. “I’m not too sure what time I’ll be back tonight, I’ll text to let you know” Alex said as I walked behind him to the front door. I saw him off as he walked down the steps to the driveway.

“Aw shit!” I hear him exclaim, realizing one of his tyres had burst. "Great, just what I needed." he muttered.

Alex and I shared a car, it was originally mine, but I let Alex put it in his name as he needs to get around more than I do. So in simpler terms, Alex has a car that I’m able to drive once a month at least.

"Take my phone and book an Uber" I offered, handing it to him. "I'll figure out the tyre later."

He accepted my phone with a grateful nod and quickly booked the ride. As he waited, I heard my phone ping. A familiar sound, from Instagram.

“Matthew Sturniolo (@matthew.sturniolo) has requested to follow you”

"Hey, looks like Matt wants to follow you" Alex said, showing me the screen with a chuckle. "Guess he enjoyed your company at the party."

My heart jumped, a burning sensation flushed through my body. Why did this have to happen when Alex has my phone.

I tried to keep my voice steady. "Yeah, probably. We did talk quite a bit. I got along well with Nick too”

Alex shrugged, accepting the request before handing the phone back. "Alright, my ride's here. See you tonight."

"See you" I replied, watching him head out the door. Not a kiss to say goodbye or anything.

The day passed slowly, my thoughts constantly drifting to Matt's follow request. It felt like a lifeline, a connection I desperately wanted but also feared.

—————————————————————————

As the evening approached, I text Alex to let him know the tyre was fixed if he wanted me to pick him up whenever he was ready. He replied saying he had an evening free and he we was going to Uber home with Emily to hang out. They had figured out they were taking the same classes and were coming back to organize a few things for the current semester.

Alex and Emily arrived at our apartment. Alex seemed in good spirits despite the tire mishap.

“We have a school trip to Barcelona in 4 weeks, Europe! How exciting!” Emily said with joy.

“We decided it would be easier to come back here and look at flights together if you don’t mind helping us Y/n, I know you’re good with all of that.” Alex suggested.

For some weird reason this lit a fire in my stomach. I knew I was being stupid since it was for a school trip, but it bothered me how eager he was to organize everything. It was almost like pulling teeth anytime I tried to organize a trip with him.

After an hour of searching, I found the cheapest flights for them and everything was booked.

"I'm going to hit the sack early" he said after a while. "Practice starts tomorrow."

"Alright, good night" I said, trying to sound casual.

Emily and I were left alone in the living room. An awkward silence settled between us, punctuated by the occasional sound of Alex moving around in the bedroom. I knew I needed to break the ice, and I also had an opportunity to see where her and Matt stood with each other after Saturday night's events.

"So, how are things with you and Matt?" I asked.

Emily smiled, her eyes lighting up. "Matt's great. I mean, he’s really sweet and all, but sometimes I feel like he’s too good, you know? I also want to apologize to you for how I acted at the party, it was out of line. We’re only newly friends and I don’t want to embarrass myself or make a bad impression. I honestly still have a hangover from it all”

“Friends?” I thought to myself.

“Oh you don’t need to apologize to me at all Emily, it happens!” I respond, trying to make her feel better.

“I feel like I get carried away sometimes. I like the attention I get from Matt, but I also love the attention I get from others."

I frowned slightly. "Others?"

She shrugged, taking a sip from her Stanley cup. "Yeah, I mean, Matt has a big following, and being with him means I get noticed too. I love him, but I can’t help enjoying the attention. It's kind of addicting. Did you not notice all of the influencers at the party?”

Her words struck a nerve. How could she be so nonchalant about treating Matt that way? He deserved someone who appreciated him fully, not someone who saw him as a means to boost their own ego.

"Oh, no I didn’t notice.." I said, trying to keep my tone neutral.

Emily glanced at me, her expression unreadable. "It just comes hand in hand with his job. I love him, but I also love being in the spotlight. Is that so wrong?"

I didn't know how to respond. It felt wrong, deeply wrong. Matt deserved someone who loved him for who he was, not for the attention he brought. The more Emily talked, the more I realized she didn’t deserve him. My feelings for Matt, already complicated, grew stronger. He deserved better, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe, just maybe, I could be that for him.

As time passed the conversation changed, I found myself genuinely getting along with Emily despite the lingering irritation from her comments about Matt. We chatted about various things like classes, mutual friends, upcoming campus events and even her life in Austin. I can’t lie, she was easy to talk to, and I could see why she was popular. But underneath her charming exterior, her earlier remarks about enjoying attention grated on me.

I knew I had to keep things friendly. Not just for Alex's sake, but for my own. Staying close to Emily meant staying close to Matt. It was a delicate balance, and I was determined to maintain it.

Later that night, Emily glanced at her phone and sighed. "I should probably get going. It's getting late."

"Do you need a ride?" I asked, half hoping she would say yes so I could see Matt again.

"Yeah, I'll ask Matt to come pick me up" she said, typing out a quick message..

Matt’s POV

I rotted away in my room all day Sunday. I needed some time to myself. Emily went back to college early this morning and I hadn’t heard from her since.

After nearly 40 hours of sitting in my room, I decided it was time to try to be social again. I left my room and walked straight into the kitchen to find Nick and Chris sat at the kitchen table.

"Rough night Saturday.." Nick asked, eyeing me with concern.

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "You could say that."

Chris obliviously laughed. "Come on, it couldn't have been that bad."

Nick shot him a look. "Matt, we need to talk about Emily. Her behavior at the party... it wasn't okay."

I nodded, feeling a weight settle on my shoulders. "I know. She's been like this more and more lately."

Nick leaned forward, his expression serious. "You don't deserve to be treated like that. You do so much for her, and it seems like she doesn't appreciate any of it."

Chris, still not fully grasping the gravity of the situation, shrugged. "Girls can be complicated, man."

Nick ignored him, focusing on me. "Look, I know you care about her, but you have to think about yourself too. You deserve to be with someone who respects you and values you."

I sighed, the truth of his words hitting hard. "I keep hoping she'll change, that she'll realize how much I care about her and start treating me better."

Nick frowned. "People don't change unless they want to. And from what I've seen, Emily isn't interested in changing."

There was a moment of silence as we all absorbed the reality of the situation. Nick then changed the topic slightly, a mischievous look in his eyes. “I noticed you got along pretty well with Y/n, Alex's girlfriend.."

My mind flashed back to our conversations. There had been an easy connection, a sense of understanding that I hadn't felt with Emily in a long time. "Yeah, she's great. We had some good talks."

Chris, always one to break the tension in the worst possible way, grinned. "That’s the girl with the fat ass, right?"

Nick groaned, and I shot Chris a look. "Dude, not the time."

Chris held up his hands in surrender. "Just saying."

The mood soured, I stood up, needing to clear my head. "I'm going to bed. Thanks for the talk, guys."

As I made my way back to my room, my phone buzzed. Emily had texted me: "Hey, can you pick me up? I'm at Alex's place."

I sighed, knowing I'd go pick her up despite everything. I couldn't shake the feeling that something had to change, but I wasn’t sure if it would be her or me.

—————————————————————————

Y/N’s POV

"He'll be here in about ten minutes." Emily said, reading out the message from Matt.

My heart danced but I had to maintain my composure.

We continued chatting until Matt's car pulled up outside. Emily grabbed her things, and I walked her to the door.

"Thanks for having me over” she said with a smile. "We should do this more often."

"We should" I replied, forcing a smile. "It was nice."

We stepped outside, and I spotted Matt waiting in his car. As we approached, he got out and walked over, his expression warm but tired.

"Hey, thanks for picking me up" Emily said, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek.

"No problem" Matt replied, his eyes briefly meeting mine. "Hi" he added, his smile softening as he looked at me.

"Hi Matt" I responded, feeling a flutter in my chest.

"How was your evening?" Matt questioned.

"It was good" I replied, choosing my words carefully. "Emily and I had a nice time."

"Good to hear" he said, glancing at Emily. "Ready to go?"

"Yep" she replied, but then she turned to me. "We should all hang out together again, the four of us. Maybe we can plan another double date or something."

"Sounds good" I said, knowing that staying close to her meant more opportunities to see Matt.

As Emily climbed into the car, I took a moment to speak to Matt. "Hey, I just wanted to say.. if you ever need to talk or anything, I'm here."

Matt looked at me, his eyes searching mine. "Thanks, I appreciate that. And same to you."

Just then, Emily reached over and playfully tugged Matt's arm. "Come on, let's go. I've missed you."

Matt turned to her, his expression softening. "I've missed you too" he said, leaning in to kiss her. Their interaction was sweet and intimate, a stark contrast to the tension I had sensed earlier.

Watching them together, my heart sank. The way Matt looked at her, the way he held her, it made me question everything. Had I misread his kindness? Was I seeing what I wanted to see rather than what was really there?

As they drove away, I stood there for a moment, feeling a mix of confusion and heartache. The connection I thought I had with Matt now felt uncertain, overshadowed by his obvious affection for Emily.

Matts’ POV

The drive to Alex's was quiet, my thoughts a jumble of emotions. When I arrived, Emily was waiting outside, looking a bit worse for wear from her two day hangover but smiling when she saw me.

"Hey, thanks for coming to get me!" she said, giving me a kiss on the cheek.

"No problem" I replied, trying to keep my tone neutral. Still wanting to keep my stance that how she acted on Saturday was out of line.

As Emily climbed into the car, Y/n turned to me.

“Hey, I just wanted to say... if you ever need to talk or anything, I'm here."

I knew fully what she was referring to. Could she relate to me? Or was it just out of pity from the events she witnessed at the party.

"Thanks, I appreciate that. And same to you." We locked eyes for a moment, until Emily tugged at me and instantly broke the contact.

We got into the car and drove off as Y/n waved us off. On the ride back home I couldn't help but think about Nick's words and the confusion I felt brewing in me surrounding Y/n. Maybe it was time to seriously consider what I wanted and needed in a relationship. Emily had her good moments, but were they enough to outweigh the bad?

Only time would tell..

a/n : i’m rushing out for dinner rn so i will proof read and do tags properly when i’m back i just wanted to get this out asaaaaap. we do go back and forth with the povs here soz. part 6 hopefully tomorrow or sunday!!!!

taglist : @muwapsturniolo @anitahunt @sturnfannn @jayde510 @chrissfavhoe @babyalliah-777 @v33angel @urmom69lol @willowrites @ribread03 @sleepyysavv @sturnsaver @sleepysturniolo @jcsturniolo11 @jessie-essie @immattsslut @mynbbys @sturniolopanini @mattsturnxoxo @delicatechrry @t77te @sturnsyaper69

[alocon]

Still Irresistible [2] - Lando Norris

Lando Norris x Fem!Reader

written by alocon

Summary: Despite all hope, Lando never lost his feelings for his best friend's twin sister. However, he still hadn't acted on it. Well, that was until the party, which led you two into a long-term secret relationship

Warnings and Tropes: Fluff, part 2 to the story released the other day.

[Part One Here] [Part Three Here] [Part Four Here] [Masterlist]

Irresistible - LN⁴ x Fem!Reader

"Lando Norris"

You two had never broken apart as quickly as you did just then. The pair of you had been in your kitchen, cooking together for the arrival of P and Max. You had forgotten that he had a key. He quickly placed another kiss on your lips before stepping back, sitting on the counter beside you just in time for your brother to walk in.

"Hello, beautiful," P said, walking over to you to place a kiss on your cheek. You greeted her back, returning the gesture.

You and Lando had, expertly, invited the pair for dinner. They didn't know that you and Lando were together. I mean, God. Max would surely kill you for it. Which is exactly why this wasn't a double date. It was simply two roommates, one roommates brother and the brother's girlfriend having dinner.

It wouldn't be the first double date that you two had. You had also had some with Alex and Lily, as those two had witnessed your first kiss at the club 8 months prior and had a few with Oscar and Lily, who had only found out about you because Lando accidentally slipped up when he was speaking. Other than that, though, no one knew. You travelled to a lot of his races with him, so, of course, there were rumours about the two of you. However, Max was not suspicious as that had happened since he started driving in Formula One. It was how the sport went. Racing on Friday-Sunday, Rumours from Monday-Wednesday, Answering those rumours on Thursday. It was just part of the sport.

The group of you began to discuss how you had been, how things had been going. You all stood in the kitchen talking so that you could cook and still be involved. "What about you, Lan? Have you found someone yet, mate?"

Almost as if it was rehearsed (it was), Lando began to use his excuse. You both had agreed that, had this question came up, you would say you weren't, and he could choose on the day. "There's someone I'm interested in. She's great. We've talked, but I haven't taken her out on a proper date yet." You smiled as you stirred the pot of pasta. Smart, you thought. Technically, it's not a lie. He hadn't taken you out on an official date, just you two, but you had been on double dates, and you had also had many dates in the house. And when you went out in public together, it wasn't considered an official date, so no one was suspicious. Didn't mean you both didn't consider them dates.

"That's great, mate. It's about time you got yourself out there. I swear, since we were little, it was always 'yeah there's someone I like but we can't be together', I had started thinking that you might love my sister." Max let out a chuckle as you thanked God that you were facing away from him as you listened in, more intrigued. You decided to start teasing Lando.

"Awwe. Used to have a little crush on me, did you?"

Lando picked up on the usual jokey-flirting and decided to hit back. "Nope. Can't stand you."

"Yeah, yeah, that's why you used to get super nervous talking to me when we were 13." You turned to him, watching as his face flushed slightly red out of being called out. He was only able to mumble a 'shut up' in response, making you and Max laugh.

"Doesn't surprise me, I was amazing and very funny and beautiful growing up."

"Still are. Except for the beautiful part," He quickly added the last part onto his sentence as he spoke too quickly for that to be considered friendly. Max eyed him before turning away. You began to plate up the pasta and sent Max off to go set the table, P opting to follow him. "That was close," Lando whispered to you, causing you to wack him gently.

"God, Lan. Watch what you say," you responded, placing your hand on his face to pull him in for a quick kiss. That kiss turned into a longer one, though, as he clearly didn't want to break away from it.

"Right. Make yourself useful." You said, pulling away before they could get caught. You passed him two plates. "Go take these out please. This one is P's, this one is Max's."

"Yes ma'am. Do I get paid with another kiss?"

You rolled your eyes, placing another peck to his lips before he grinned, heading out of the room with the plates.

You grabbed the other two, following suit and placing them on the table. "Right, I'll be back in a second, I'm going to run some food over to Martine."

"Alright, tell her I say hi," Lando responded as you went to the kitchen.

A look of confusion appeared on Max's face. "Who's Martine?"

"Our neighbour. She's 60, and she's been struggling a lot recently because her husband passed last month, so we've been taking her food and inviting her over for dinner so she isn't lonely."

"Aw, that's lovely!" P said, smiling as the door shut.

You stepped across the hallway, knocking the door of your neighbour opposite. After a few minutes, she answered. "Hi. How are you?"

"I'm good, how are you doing? We have some extra food, so I wanted to bring it over for you." You passed her the tub of food, and she smiled gratefully.

"Oh, thank you, dear. I'm feeling a little better than yesterday. It's getting easier day by day, you know?"

You nodded in response, accepting the hug she offered you. "Would you like to come over for dinner again on Friday? Like we have been doing the past few weeks?"

"Are you sure it wouldn't be too much bother?"

"Not at all. I would've invited you over today, but my brother and his girlfriend are over for dinner, and I remember you saying that big groups got a little overwhelming for you."

"Ah right, having a double date, are you?"

You shook your head. "No, my brother doesn't know about Lando and I. Lando says hi by the way."

"Oh, do tell him I say hi back. How come your brother doesn't know? Haven't you been together for 8 months now?"

You grinned cheekily in response to her question. She was such an angel. You absolutely loved Martine. She was hands down the sweetest neighbour you had. "Lando was Max's best friend before he was my boyfriend, so Max would be a little upset if he found out."

"Oh, right. Well, you can't decide who you fall in love with, darling." You heard a door open behind you. "Love is something you can't really control. If you feel like someone is really, really right for you, he probably is, you know?"

You froze when you heard a voice behind you. "Uh. Sorry, who are you in love with?"

Martine turned to your brother. "Oh, hello, you must be the brother. I've heard a lot about you. Don't mind our conversation, dear. I was just telling her about my daughter and her new boyfriend. I'm Martine."

'Martine, you legend,' you thought as she smiled sweetly and innocently.

"Oh right, I'm Max." He shook her hand before looking at you. "Where's the red wine?" You turned to see Lando poking his head around the door too, shooting you a wink.

"Top cupboard, right at the back. I had to put it back there because someone..." You paused to dramatically look at Lando. "Smashed up the last bottle we had."

"It was an accident."

"Yep. And now I have to Lando-proof everything." You turned to Martine. "Right, Martine. I'll leave you, your daughter and her boyfriend, be. Do tell them I say hi."

"Of course, dear. It was lovely to see you, as always. See you Friday."

You three headed back inside, Max heading to grab the wine.

Sitting at the table, you and P waited patiently for the return of Max and Lando. You made friendly conversation, as always. You two always got along quite well. P looked around for any signs of the boys before leaning towards you. "So... Anyone you're interested in?"

You looked at the woman. She knew something. You sighed, shrugging. "There is someone I am interested in. Please don't tell Max though, we both know he'll get all protective twin about this."

She nodded. "Do I get to know who? Because I could take a few guesses."

You shook your head. "Maybe some other time when people can't listen in."

She understood, luckily, and it was only a few moments until the boys reappeared, laughing away as they carried the wine glasses in. Lando sat beside you, gently giving your hand a quick squeeze under the table.

Dinner went normally, you all talked and messed about, the usual. You then all retreated to the living room to play some games.

"Oh fuck you!" Max wasn't happy as you crossed the line once again to take first place, having barely overtaken him just before the end due to an ability you had saved. "You cheated!"

"You can't cheat in Mario Kart, Max. Stop bitching because I'm better."

"Right," Lando spoke up before they could continue arguing. "Bed time, I think. What do you think?" The other 3 of you nodded in agreement. Max and P would be staying over so Lando had given up his room, stating that he was more than happy to sleep on the pull out sofa bed in your room.

You were laid down on your bed as Lando locked the door, Max and P having already retreated to Lando's room and P having already fallen asleep. Lando was the last to come to bed. He took his shirt off, placing it on your chair before removing his jeans so he was only in boxers. He slid into bed beside you, his arms wrapping around your waist and pulling you into him. He let out a soft, content noise as you cuddled up closer to him. "I've missed doing this."

"Lan, it's only been a few hours," you noted as one of his hands ran up to play with your hair.

"A few hours too long, being away from you sucks so bad."

"What are you going to do when you go off to races, then?"

"I don't know." He looked down at you, placing a kiss on your forehead. "You could always come with me."

You looked up to meet his eyes. "To which ones?"

"All of them." He paused, taking some time to admire your face, to watch the way to smiled softly. "Every. Single. One." He placed kisses to your lips between each word before placing his forehead against yours, looking into your eyes.

"Okay."

"Okay? You will come to more races with me?" His eyes lit up as he thought of all the time you could spend cuddling after his races.

"Lando." You stopped speaking a second, your hand moving to the side of his face, thumb gently moving over his cheek. "I would go anywhere that you asked me to."

He pulled you into another hug, his head on top of yours, squeezing you tight, not wanting to let go. He whispered a few I love you's to you, placing kisses all over your face as he spoke. He then placed another to your lips, a longer one than previous. One full of love, adoration. One that made you feel that you two were the only people in the world. One that made you feel like nothing else ever mattered. One that showed you that, no matter what Max thinks when he finds out about your relationship, it really doesn't matter. As long as he had you, everything was perfect and how it should be. You balanced him, you showed him the love that he always dreamt of being shown. You showed him what adoring someone truly felt like. And he found you irresistible. He would always find you irresistible.

-The End-

[Word Count - 2,012]

Hi All,

Another part to the Lando Norris "Irresistible" story because I thought the first part could do with a part two. Hope you are all well, as always, have a lovely day x

Alocon

[luxaofhesperides]

Ghostlights as college roommates and maybe some identity shenanigans thrown in would be so fun! Maybe dannys doing a little vigilante work on the side as well to up the secret identity mayhem

Danny would like to say his college career is going well. Gotham isn’t where he was expecting to pursue higher education, but the engineering scholarship he got through the Wayne Educational Foundation was just too good to turn down. It even covered the cost of an apartment! Although, the apartment is shared with another student who got a Wayne scholarship. 

Even with that, Danny lucked out and got a great roommate. Duke Thomas is chill, kind, respects Danny’s space and doesn’t throw wild parties or invite random people in at all hours of the day. He even joins Danny twice a week for study sessions!

Really, it would be the perfect college experience except for one thing: the ghosts.

Danny thought they’d stay in Amity Park. They had no reason to stray from the city where the portal was, and his parents are more than enough to keep most ghosts away. It took his friends, Jazz, and even Vlad to convince Danny that he wasn’t abandoning Amity Park and that the city wouldn’t fall while he took a few years to focus on himself. 

He worried right up until he got to GCU and walked the campus for the first time. Then he decided to enjoy the four years he had on the scholarship to get his degree and live his own life like a normal person.

To say he’s pissed about the ghosts is an understatement. 

The one thing he was looking forward to most is not being Phantom. Gotham is home to the Bats and they’re more than capable of handling everything in the city. It means there’s no need for him here and he can focus on school and enjoy going on invisible flights without worrying about being hunted down or having to fight a ghost. 

“Are you fucking kidding me,” he mutters under his breath as he feels the familiar chill race up his throat, A cold mist wafts out of his mouth, curling around his words, and Danny quickly ducks his head and hides it from sight. 

“Did you say something?” Duke asks, looking up from where he leans against the kitchen counter, squinting at a recipe on his phone. 

“Nah,” Danny lies. “Just stressing.” He gestures to the papers he has spread out on the dining table, then stands up. “I’m gonna take a walk. Maybe that’ll get my brain to work correctly tonight.”

“Got your phone on you?”

Danny reflexively drops a hand to his pocket, checking that his phone is where it’s supposed to be. It’s what Duke asks every single time Danny mentions going out, worried about Danny being unprepared for Gotham. It’s nice of him, though Danny does wish he can say that he’s survived a lot worse than a few muggers. 

“Got it.”

“Alright. I’ll try to work on dinner while you’re out.”

Danny nods and offers Duke a small wave before pulling his shoes on at the door. He grabs his keys and heads out, double checking that the door is locked behind him. 

Then he glances around the hallway, checking that the coast is clear, and pulls up the chill of awareness in his chest. Slowly, he breathes out, watching the blue mist waft out and lead towards the stairwell. 

“Wonder who it is this time,” he mutters to himself, going into the cold, concrete stairwell. It always feels a little off in there, as if he’s been removed from the rest of the world when the door closes behind him. His footsteps echo oddly in the space, so Danny chooses to fly instead, keeping his feet off the floor. 

A few flights down is when he sees her: pale and translucent, a faint blue glow around her. She’s a familiar face. Emilia is one of the first of Gotham’s ghosts he’s met, leading to the rather unpleasant realization that ghosts don’t only come from the Infinite Realms. There’s a strange sort of magic in the very foundations of Gotham that makes it the way it is, creating ghosts that are different enough from what he’s used to that it leaves him off balance. 

Gotham keeps her dead. Few get to pass on peacefully, and most have to wait until they grow weak and wither away, a second death, before they can be released from the living realm. The ghosts of Gotham are pale and weak, for the most part, and try to cling to him so grow stronger from his ectoplasm. 

Most want him to help them pass on, or give them a way into the Infinite Realms. Some want him to bring justice to their killers. Others want to kill him and take his ectoplasm for their own so they can continue their reign of terror in Gotham, unable to be stopped even in death. 

Emilia gives him warnings. It’s not always her, but she tends to be the one to draw him out of his apartment, pulling him into a vigilante lifestyle because he can’t bring himself to refuse anyone who asks for his help, and the dead in Gotham have no one else to ask.

“Danny,” she greets. “Nueve is out again. He’s going after the ghosts near Chantilly Street.”

“The sun isn’t even down yet,” Danny grumbles. Nueve, an old gang enforcer who died a few decades ago, cannibalizes other ghosts. It doesn’t destroy the other ghosts, not really, but it makes them feel pain when they shouldn’t be able to feel much at all. Taking their limited reserves of ectoplasm makes him momentarily stronger, and he uses that stolen strength to try to harm the living.

He’s been successful a few times. Danny makes sure to rip him apart as much as possible these days; he won’t be here forever, but he’s hoping that within his four years at GCU, he’ll be able to permanently stop Nueve.

Times like these, he misses having a Fenton Thermos with him. Though he’s not entirely sure it would work on Gotham’s ghosts with how different they are. 

Emilia follows him down the stairwell to the ground floor. Once there, Danny shoves his hand into the floor, taking out the backpack he’s hidden in it. He’s done this change of clothes so often he can do it in just a minute now, hiding his face and pulling on gloves beneath a large hoodie with old ectoplasm stains along the sleeves and hem. A gas mask is pulled on as well, covering the bottom half of his face, a necessary addition to his Ghost Work Outfit™ after he almost got caught in some Fear Gas during Scarecrow’s last attack. 

“Alright,” he says, “Lead the way.”

Emilia takes off through the wall and Danny hurries to follow, going invisible as he hits the streets. 

It’s still early evening, the sun not yet fully set. Plenty of people walk along the sidewalks and cars pass by endlessly, honking at each other as they try to go twenty above the speed limit. Danny does his best to avoid running into everyone, deftly dodging the reaching hands of a few ghosts who spot him as he sprints by. 

They only go a few blocks away from his apartment building, turning into a dead end alley where a group of teens (living, for once) are stuck with their backs to the wall, clinging to each other as they warily watch the man in front of them carelessly twirl a gun around his finger. 

The man makes a strange clicking noise in the back of his throat, and it takes Danny a moment to realize that he’s trying to talk. 

Still invisible, Danny sneaks around to stand in front of the teens, ready to bodily protect them. The man looks alive, and Danny see any ghosts around save for Emilia, standing at the mouth of the alley. There’s something strange about him; his movements seem just a little off, not quite as fluid as they should be. It’s not the movement of someone on drugs. It’s something that screams uncanny valley.

The gun’s handle drops solidly into the man’s palm. He makes another few clicks, then raising the gun to point at the teens.

“Bad idea, pal,” Danny says dropping his invisibility. The teens behind him startle, gasping and trying to press themselves further into the wall. 

The man’s eyes flash weakly and the pieces click into place in Danny’s mind. Nueve must have gotten strong enough to possess someone. That is… alarming, to say the least.

He rips the gun out of the man’s hand and tosses it aside. Then he pushes away the man’s arm when Nueve makes a clumsy attempt to punch him. With his chest left wide open and undefended, Danny takes the chance to shove his hand into the man’s chest, feeling for the familiar chill of a ghost. 

And then he wraps his fingers tight around it and pulls out Nueve, leaving the man to collapse. 

The teens behind him scream and Danny winces. 

Pulling out a faintly glowing human figure from someone’s physical body does not look good. It’s the best way to end a possession, but it does look alarmingly like he’s just ripped someone’s soul out of their body.

Keeping hold of Nueve’s ghost, Danny steps to the side. “You guys should go now. Take care.”

The teens don’t need any more prompting. They take off in a run, tripping over each other in their haste to get away.

Danny spares a glance to the man unconscious on the ground, but there’s nothing he can do with an angry ghost in his hands, so he has no choice but to leave him there as he flies up to a rooftop farther down the street. 

“How many times do we need to do this, Nueve?” he asks tiredly, shaking the ghost.

“These streets should be mine!” Nueve howls, trying to break free of Danny’s grasp. But he’s quickly growing weak, his energy fading, and Danny’s holding back his own ectoplasm as tightly as he can. “They may have killed me, but that doesn’t mean I can’t still take what I’m owed!”

“Dude, you’re dead. There’s nothing here for you. Move on.”

“You don’t get to speak on this, outsider. You think a freak like you has an say over us? You can’t stop us. You don’t even know what’s coming.”

Danny squints at him. “What, are you planning a heist or something? With your gang of dead people too weak to lift a piece of paper?”

“We’re not all dead. We’ve got living folk helping us and we’ll be taking you out first when we hit the streets.”

“Good luck with that,” Danny says flatly, “Begone with you.” 

Without giving Nueve a chance to say another word, he rips Nueve’s head off his body. His ghost wavers, then dissipates like smoke, fading away. 

Another side effect of whatever it is Gotham does to her dead: their ghost forms are remarkably fragile and it takes only a bit of strength to tear them to shreds, giving him some peace before they reform again. It won’t stop Nueve from striking out again, gathering enough strength until he’s able to possess some other unfortunate soul, but Danny’s bought himself some time to figure out what the hell was he talking about?

There are living folk involved with whatever he’s planning. It’s probably another gang, maybe someone with magic who is able to see ghosts? Which is not great. Danny doesn’t know much about magic; even when facing ghosts who used magic or magical artifacts, his go to method of dealing with them is to start throwing hands like there’s no tomorrow.

Well.

It’s a problem for later.

For now, Danny needs to get back to his apartment and work on his calculus homework. Hopefully he can finish it before he gets frustrated enough that he gives up and lies face down on the floor until Duke manhandles him onto the couch, where he’s less of a tripping hazard.

He’s just about to get back to street level when his Fenton Luck strikes again and he hears someone land on the roof, just a few feet behind him.

“Hey there, stranger,” the Signal says. “You know, we run into each other so often it feels rude not to introduce ourselves. Why don’t you go first?”

Danny turns to face the daylight vigilante, standing with his arms crossed as if that would make him look any more approachable. He’s been popping up wherever Danny’s out dealing with ghosts, which is very not great for Danny’s plans to have a peaceful, normal college life. 

Biting his tongue, Danny gives the Signal a quick two fingered salute, then goes intangible and drops down through the building. His invisibility sweeps over him and then he’s running through the streets, hoping it’s enough to keep the Signal from following him to his apartment.

He skids to a stop in the stairwell, dropping his intangibility just in time to crash into the wall. Panting, Danny waits for a tense minute to see if he’s been followed. 

When the door to the stairwell remains closed, he lets out a slow breath, then pulls off all the pieces of his Ghost Work Outfit, shoving it back into his bag. He takes a moment to fix his hair, messy from the hood, then shoves the bag back into the floor, safely hidden from curious eyes. 

Then he very casually walks up the stairs to the fifth floor and walks down the hallway to his apartment. His keys clang together when he opens the door, and Duke usually hears it when it does, but just in case, Danny calls out, “I’m back!”

He’s learned to announce himself after a few late night walks almost ended with him tackled to the floor when Duke thought someone was breaking in.

Duke doesn’t respond as he toes off his shoes. The stillness in the apartment feels off, as if the world is holding its breath. Cautiously, Danny walks in, trying to find his roommate.

He’s not in the kitchen. The living room is empty. Duke’s bedroom door is open and he’s not in there either. 

Something cold lodges itself in his chest. 

“Duke?” he tries again, looking over their apartment again for any sign of struggle, or something terrible happening, or even a mess that Duke needed more supplies to clean up. 

There’s nothing. The apartment is as it’s always been, just with an empty space where Duke should be.

Worried, Danny stands in the middle of the hallway, trying to figure out what he should do next. It’s because he’s standing so still, surrounded by silence, that he hears it: a light thud outside the window. 

Danny turns and he can swear he sees something large moving outside the window, disappearing from sight just as Danny takes a step into Duke’s room to check on it. He rushes to the window and pushes it open, looking down at the street, then side to side, and finally up to the last three floors of the building.

Nothing’s there.

Slowly, Danny pulls his head back inside, closing and locking the window. “Must be my imagination,” he says, trying to convince himself it’s not a big deal. 

He leaves Duke’s room and begins pacing down the hall, anxiety building steadily in him. 

His phones in his hand before he can think his actions through, Duke’s contact pulled up on the screen. He should call. He should make sure Duke is okay, but Danny hesitates. Is this something to be freaked out over? Would Duke thing he’s clingy and nervous and a bothersome roommate? He doesn’t want to risk Duke asking for a new roommate next year when the lease renews.

But he’s worried. It’s Gotham and Danny just dealt with a violent, murderous ghost threatening him. Duke can deal with a stressed out, worried Danny if it means he’s alive.

He hits the call button before he can talk himself out of it. It rings on and on and on until Danny starts to panic about having to find Duke’s ghost to avenge his murder. 

The front door is thrown open so suddenly and so loudly, Danny jumps and his phone clatters to the floor. 

“Danny! Hey!” Duke says with a bright smile, trying to catch his breath. He’s still holding onto the doorknob, slightly hunched over as he pants for breath. “I didn’t expect you back so soon.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah! Yeah, I’m totally fine.”

“Where were you?”

Duke straightens up and closes the door, kicking off his shoes. “Oh, just… out. Shopping. For dinner.”

Danny looks over his empty hands doubtfully. “No luck finding what you needed?”

“Nope!”

“What did you need? Maybe I can go to a different store and get it for you.”

“You don’t need to!” Duke says. “I just needed… tomatoes?”

Danny blinks at him. “We have tomatoes. Did you not know we had tomatoes in the fridge?”

“Oh, do we? Good to know.”

There’s something very weird about this conversation, but Danny doesn’t pry. Duke is weird sometimes, but it’s fine because he kindly ignores some of Danny’s oddities that come from being a halfa and a semi-retired hero. 

“Do you… maybe wanna sit down? Catch your breath? I can make dinner tonight if you want.”

Duke waves a hand in the air. “No, no, it’s fine. I got this. Anyways, how was your walk?”

He definitely shouldn’t talk about the cannibal ghost and his threats to take out Danny with his gang. “It was nice. Very quiet. You know, for Gotham.” He punctuates this with an awkward thumbs up and immediately regrets it, but it’s already done so he commits to it.

“Cool! Great. Just wondering, did you see anything weird?”

“Depends on what you’re asking about?”

“Just some guy wearing black with a hood covering his face. He’s been active in this neighborhood and I saw some people talk about him online. Apparently he just appears out of thin air.”

Danny tries not to wince. That’s him, alright. Gotham’s newest neighborhood menace. “I don’t think so, but there’s a lot of people in Gotham that were all black and walk around with their hood up.”

“True,” Duke concedes. “Well, just be careful when you go out, alright?”

“I always am.” He gives Duke the same two fingered salute he gave the Signal. Duke stares at him for a moment, eyes dark and almost dangerous, then he smiles and walks into the kitchen. 

“Wanna make dinner with me? I think we can figure out this recipe together. Unless you need to do your homework.”

“It can wait!” Danny hurries to join Duke, grateful for an excuse to push off calculus a little longer. He understands what he’s doing in the class, there’s just… so much work. He doesn’t even want to think about the tests. The tests make everyone cry.

“Alright, let’s get to it, then!”

“You’re in charge, chef,” Danny says, laughingly, and bumps against Duke’s side. He expects a light shove in return, something Sam and Tucker always did, but Duke goes tense instead, letting out a sharp breath that Danny is all too familiar with. “Wait, why are you hurt? What happened?!”

He goes to lift up Duke’s shirt to inspect his shirt, see the damage for himself, but Duke smoothly moves out of the way, grabbing Danny’s wrists and stopping him in his tracks. “I’m fine, Danny. I just got hit. Lightly. Minor bruising, really.”

Danny looks at him doubtfully, then wrenches a wrist free to lift up his shirt before he can move again.

Minor bruising is not how Danny would describe the blues and purples that decorate Duke’s entire side. He can see the outline of Duke’s ribs through the bruising. “How is this being lightly bruised? What hit you?”

“A car?”

“A car?!”

Duke winces, then pulls his shirt down. “I’m fine, Danny, really. It was just from a car that didn’t want to stop at a red light. I stopped another person from being hit, but the car got me pretty solidly. You know how bad Gotham drivers are.”

“Sit down!” Danny says, pulling Duke out of the kitchen. “I don’t understand how you’re still standing. I’ll get some ice, and I’ll handle dinner. You just stay there and stop pushing yourself for no reason.”

“Playing nurse for me now?”

“If I have to.”

“Would you wear a nurse costume for me, too?” Duke jokes.

Danny looks him dead in the eye and says, “If I have to. Would that make you follow my instructions? A tight little nurse dress?”

Duke sputters, cheeks darkening, and looks away. Danny grins, victorious, and darts back to the kitchen to grab an ice pack from the fridge. 

“Maybe I’ll wear one for you anyways, once you’re all healed up. Only if you’re good, though.”

“Danny, you’re killing me here.”

“Better me than a car.”

Duke laughs and takes the ice pack, pressing it against his side carefully. “Oh, for sure. Thanks, Danny.”

“Hey, what are roommates for?” Danny shares a warm smile with Duke, then pats his shoulder and heads back to the kitchen to start making a simple pasta dinner. 

Life in Gotham is weird and stressful and full of ghosts and heroes who won’t leave him alone. But it’s not all that bad, really. He’s happy with how he’s doing in college, and he’s beyond lucky to have Duke as a roommate. So long as Duke never finds out about his halfa status, then he’s sure they’ll be able to last all four years rooming together.

He just needs to keep a secret. 

Shouldn’t be too hard, right?

[jrob64]

A Fortunate Failure

A CS Modern AU One-shot for CS Spooky Season/Autumnal Bingo

Here is my second offering for the Bingo boards created by @hollyethecurious. This one is based on the prompt 'getting lost in a corn maze'. Now I can cross off two spaces on my card.

Special thanks to @hookedmom for her beta expertise.

Summary: At Mary Margaret and David’s annual ‘All Things Autumn’ party, Emma and Killian hope to win the competition championship again. The final event to determine the winning team is escaping the cornfield maze the fastest, but when the two friends get hopelessly lost, they discover that losing might actually lead to the best prize of all. 

Rating: T

Words: 3553

Can also be found on Ao3 and ffn

*********

Killian Jones finishes buttoning his shirt and checks his reflection in the mirror. Plaid flannel really isn’t his thing, but he’s trying to get into the spirit of the evening. Besides, when Emma Swan extends an invitation and tells him to wear plaid flannel, he will do it.

He will do just about anything for Emma Swan…except admit his feelings to her.

“Coward,” he whispers to his reflection. “If you don’t tell her pretty soon, she’s going to find someone else to date.” He doesn’t know if he could stand watching her with another guy like he had to when she dated that idiot Neal. Then he had to do it again when she went out with Walsh a few times, before she found out he was an egotistical liar.

Grabbing his black leather jacket from the hook on the back of his bedroom door, he double checks that his keys are in the pocket, then walks out the door and jogs to his car. He told Emma he would meet her at David and Mary Margaret’s farm at three o’clock and he doesn’t want to be late. That would be, in his brother Liam’s words, bad form.

As he drives, he hums along to the songs from his playlist. He chose every song on it because they remind him of Emma. Bloody hell, he has it so bad for her!

When he reaches the farm, he parks beside Emma’s yellow Volkswagen bug and sees that she’s still sitting behind the wheel, looking at her phone. She doesn’t seem to notice that he’s there as he gets out of his car and closes the door. He moves around the back of his car and taps on her window, causing her to startle and look up at him with wide eyes.

Killian could drown in the deep pools of Emma’s gorgeous green eyes.

*********

Emma could drown in the deep pools of Killian’s gorgeous blue eyes.

She’s frankly just so sick and tired of hiding her feelings for him. Her brother urged his friend Killian to move to Storybrooke three years ago when he was getting over a bad breakup. At that time, David told her the Brit needed friends, so that’s what she became. Now, she’s stuck in ‘friend’ mode, but oh, how she wishes she could move into the ‘girlfriend’ category.

At one point, she thought she could get over her feelings for him by dating other guys, but that turned out to be a terrible idea. Neal was a complete imbecile who thought women were inferior beings, and Walsh was an arrogant jerk. She sometimes wonders if she chose to date those two because in the back of her mind she knew that nothing would ever develop with either of them.

Killian Jones is the only man she wants to date, but he has no interest in being in a romantic relationship with her. So she settles for being his friend, because that way, at least she gets to spend plenty of time with him.

Tonight is Mary Margaret and David’s ‘All Things Autumn’ party. It’s highly anticipated by everyone in town and is one of Emma’s favorite nights of the year. For the first few years of the annual event, she sat back and watched as couples competed with each other in numerous events - cornhole, a scavenger hunt, as well as piggyback, wheelbarrow and burlap sack racing. Mary Margaret always tried to get her involved, but Emma was perfectly happy watching, laughing, and keeping score.

Once Killian moved into town, they decided to team up. Emma is even happier to finally be participating. It doesn’t hurt that most of the competitions require physical contact. She also enjoys sitting beside him during the hayride and around the bonfire at the end of the evening.

The best part, in her opinion, is trying to get through the cornfield maze the fastest. The first year she and Killian participated together, they were the winning team. He was so excited, he wrapped her up in a hug and spun her around until they were both dizzy. It was the best feeling in the world.

Now, as he stands outside her car, looking at her with those blue, blue eyes, she’s more than ready to have that feeling again.

*********

“Are you ready, Swan?” Killian asks, stepping back so she can open her car door.

She climbs out and stands in front of him, sliding her phone into the back pocket of her jeans. “I was just studying a diagram of the cornfield maze. I think I’ll be able to mauever us through it in record time.”

“Is that so?” he questions with a teasing grin. “Could you be seeking revenge for last year when Ruby and Victor beat us by fifteen minutes?”

“I still think Mary Margaret led Ruby through the maze before the party that night. There’s no way they could have gotten out that fast,” Emma grouses.

The two of them start walking toward the huge red barn, which is the hub of the autumn-themed festivities. “Why would your sister-in-law show favoritism to Ruby?”

“Because Ruby is her best friend and can talk Mary Margaret into anything. Plus, she knows I wouldn’t cheat.”

“And studying the diagram beforehand isn’t cheating?” Killian asks cheekily.

She gives him a side-eye glare. “That’s called preparation.”

“Is it, indeed?”

“You should be happy your partner prepared so well.”

I’m just happy to be your partner, Killian thinks. Out loud, he says, “You’re the most competitive person I’ve ever met, Swan.”

“If you’re gonna keep making remarks like that, I might have to find a different partner.”

“I meant it as a compliment.”

She rolls her eyes at him, making him grin again. They walk into the barn, where their senses are immediately inundated with the sight of fall decorations, smells from the abundance of food laid out on long tables, and sounds from spooky music coming through speakers and the large crowd already gathered.

Mary Margaret spots them immediately and grabs David’s hand before she heads their way. “Emma! Killian!” she greets exuberantly. “I was afraid you were going to miss the scavenger hunt!”

“I thought it didn’t start until three-thirty,” Emma says. “It’s only three o’clock right now.”

“You have to have something to eat first. Oh, you should try David’s chili! He added a secret ingredient this year.”

“Please don’t tell me it’s nutmeg,” Emma teases. “It might work in his pancakes, but I really don’t think it will work in chili.”

David chuckles. “It’s not nutmeg, and it’s not really that secret. I just used some of the jalapenos Mary Margaret grew in the garden last summer. We canned several jars of them.”

“He dices them up to put in the chili,” Mary Margaret gushes, gazing at David like he discovered a way to live on Mars. “Isn’t that clever?”

“Very clever, Mate,” Killian says quickly, giving a small tug on Emma’s sleeve. He’s pretty sure she is just about to make a sarcastic remark about Mary Margaret’s over-the-top adoration of her husband. Emma looks at him with a smirk and he’s convinced he was correct.

“Well, get yourselves something to eat,” David says. “We have some last minute things to take care of before the games begin.”

“One of them better not be showing Ruby through the corn maze,” Emma grumbles, as the couple walks away.

Killian laughs. “Perhaps we should aspire to keep Ruby within our sight at all times. Will that set your mind at ease, Swan?”

“No, because then we have to look at her hanging all over her new boyfriend, Jefferson. Victor was no catch, but at least he was only about a five on the weirdness scale. This guy is at least a thirteen.”

Killian’s grin couldn’t be much bigger as they head to the tables to load their plates. He’s looking forward to having a fun-filled evening with all of his friends. And with the woman he loves.

Someday soon, he’s going to have to tell her how he feels.

*********

Someday soon, she’s going to have to tell him how she feels.

Seriously, she doesn��t think she’s going to be able to keep pretending much longer, especially when he keeps giving her that heart-stopping smile. Plus, he keeps touching her; just little touches that send shivers up her spine. His palm on the small of her back, a brush of his hand down her arm, fingers combing snarls from her hair, sitting close enough for their thighs to touch.

It’s going to drive her crazy, but she never wants him to stop.

“Swan?”

“Hmm?” she hums.

“Is there something wrong with the food? You’ve hardly eaten a bite.”

She looks down at her plate, her fork hovering over it. He’s right - she hasn’t eaten anything. She has gotten too caught up in her thoughts.

“No, I was just…thinking about the scavenger hunt, I guess.” She scoops up some macaroni and cheese and sticks it in her mouth. After chewing and swallowing, she adds, “I stuck everything I thought could possibly be on the list in my bug today. I swear, if Mary Margaret has tampons on the list again, I’m going to strangle her. That was so embarrassing last year! Especially when Ruby asked if a used one counted.”

Killian nearly chokes on the drink of water he had taken. “I’m sure Mary Margaret won’t make that mistake again,” he says after clearing his throat. “She turned beet red when Ruby asked that question.”

Once everyone is finished eating, the list of items to find is passed out and the hunt begins. There is nothing embarrassing on it this time and Emma is elated that she, in fact, does have a few of the items in her car. She deflates when Belle and Will turn in their completed list just as she and Killian locate the final thing they need, but gets over it quickly when she sees how happy the other couple is to receive the prize of two movie passes.

“Second place isn’t shabby, Swan,” Killian says. “It still earns us two points toward the overall championship.”

They rack up more points by coming in third in cornhole, first in the piggyback race, and second in the wheelbarrow race. They fail to place in the burlap sack race when they get their feet tangled together inside the sack and fall, then are disqualified for trying to roll across the finish line. Emma doesn’t care. She is laughing so hard while laying on top of Killian, who also has tears of laughter running from the corners of his eyes.

Before the final competitive event of the night, everyone loads up on David’s flatbed wagon, lined with bales of straw, then he tows them around the farm. Mary Margaret joins him in the cab of the tractor and turns so she can see her friends enjoying themselves, telling jokes and stories, laughing and cuddling together.

Emma scoots as close as she can to Killian and is thrilled when he drops his arm across her shoulders. She tentatively rests her forearm on his thigh and relaxes when he doesn’t pull away. They remain that way for the rest of the ride.

Emma is content taking in the autumn colors of the leaves lit by the waning rays of sunlight. When one particular maple tree catches her attention - so bright with red and orange leaves, it looks like it’s on fire - she turns to see if Killian is looking at it, too.

He isn’t. His eyes are on her, a soft smile on his lips. She has the distinct feeling he’s been looking at her for a while, instead of enjoying the scenery. “Aren’t the trees beautiful?” she asks.

“Aye, lovely,” he agrees, though he never takes his eyes off of her.

“I love the way the sun makes the colors so vivid. Orange, red…”

“Gold,” he adds, as she feels him sifting strands of her hair through his fingers.

“Killian,” she says with mock exasperation. “You’re not even looking at the trees.”

He blinks rapidly, then pulls his eyes away to look around. Clearing his throat, he says, “Mary Margaret and David are very fortunate to own such a beautiful farm.”

“Yeah, they are. David always wanted to live on a farm when we were growing up.”

They make small talk until the hayride is over. When they disembark, Killian offers her his hand to help her step down, but once her feet are on the ground, he doesn’t let go. She feels his thumb slowly stroking over the back of her hand, sending tingles across her skin.

He’s never held her hand like that before and she feels a sudden rush of hope that maybe he does think of her as more than a friend.

*********

Emma doesn’t pull her hand away from him and he feels a sudden rush of hope that maybe she does think of him as more than a friend.

He couldn’t keep his eyes off of her during the hayride. The way her golden hair glowed in the light of the sunset was mesmerizing. When she called him out for not noticing the colors of the trees, it was all he could do to focus his attention on them. Their beauty couldn’t compare with hers.

His hope is also fueled by the way she sat so close to him and seemed to enjoy having his arm wrapped around her shoulders. It felt very nice, very natural. It felt like something he would like to do on a regular basis.

As he stands in front of her, he has the overwhelming urge to admit how he feels, but knows it isn’t the right time or place. When that will be, he has no idea. He just knows he is sick and tired of hiding his feelings for her.

His turbulent thoughts are interrupted by David loudly announcing, “There’s only one competition left to determine the winning team. Grab your partner and come get your flashlights for the cornfield maze!”

“Let’s go,” Emma says, tugging on his hand. “It’s time for us to nail down the championship!”

Killian willingly follows behind her, chuckling at her enthusiasm and determination. He’s happy because in this competition, she is a force to be reckoned with and he’s her partner.

Emma grabs a flashlight out of the basket Mary Margaret is carrying and tests it to make sure it works. Then she takes Killian’s hand again and marches them over to the entrance of the cornfield maze. While most of the couples are milling around and chatting, she edges them to the front of the pack so they’ll be one of the first ones to enter the maze.

When David blows the air horn signaling the start, Emma takes off running with Killian on her heels. Everyone is bunched up until they get to the first division in the path. Most of the group, including Emma and Killian, go to the left, while a few couples split off to the right.

At every intersection, the crowd gets slimmer as they make their choice of direction. Before long, the only ones still going down the same path as Emma and Killian are Ruby and Jefferson. Killian shakes his head fondly as he watches the two women elbowing each other, trying to gain an advantage.

Emma looks back at him and he gives her a thumbs up, his heart swelling at the smile she gives him in return.

*********

Emma sees Killian give her a thumbs up and her heart swells, causing her to give him a smile in return, even though they’re in the middle of a fierce competition.

The further they go into the maze, the darker it becomes since the tall corn stalks block out most of the moonlight. The circle of light their flashlight throws off isn’t enough to illuminate more than about a four foot diameter in front of them, which is a little disconcerting.

When they reach another fork in the path, she exchanges a challenging look with Ruby, then grabs Killian’s hand and heads in the opposite direction as the other couple.

“Are you quite sure this is the way to go?” Killian asks.

“When I looked at the diagram, I counted the number of right and left turns. I’m pretty sure this one was supposed to be to the left.”

“I trust your judgment, Swan.”

They walk on for several minutes, making a few more turns. Their pace gradually slows and finally comes to a stop.

“Is something wrong?” Killian asks.

Emma stands stock still, turning her head back and forth. “Do you hear anyone else?”

He cocks his head and listens intently. Then he shakes his head. “I don’t hear anything.”

“That means either we’re way ahead of everyone else or…”

“Or we’re lost?”

She turns to face him. “Yeah. I think we should have turned the same way as Ruby and Jeff back there.”

“We can head back…” he begins.

“No, let’s just keep going. There’s probably more than one way out of here.”

They continue on in silence, except for the crunch of the flattened corn stalks under their feet. At every intersection, they discuss which direction to go. After another ten minutes, Emma comes to a stop. “I think we’re hopelessly lost. I’m sorry, Killian.”

“There’s no reason to be sorry, Emma.”

“I was so sure I could lead us out of this maze before anyone else, but I failed.”

He steps in front of her, his face nearly obscured by shadows. “The night isn’t over yet.”

“Do you really think we can still win?”

He moves a little closer and she tilts the flashlight up so she can see his face more clearly. He is looking at her fixedly, an ambiguous look on his face.

“There’s more than one way to win tonight,” he says quietly.

“Do you have a way to fly out of here or something?”

He chuckles. “No, nothing like that.”

“How can we win, then?”

He takes another step forward and reaches up to cup her face in his hands. She draws in a quick breath, a hopeful thought entering her mind.

Is he going to kiss her?

*********

He’s going to kiss her.

He looks deeply into her eyes, hoping to see acceptance. Even in the dim light, he finds it. She wants this, too.

Leaning in, he tentatively touches his lips to hers once, twice. When he pulls back slightly, she follows him, her lips chasing his. He takes advantage of the opportunity and draws her into her arms to kiss her again. This time, the tentativeness is gone, replaced by eagerness and passion.

Gods, how he’s longed for this day, imagined it so often. And now he knows - reality is so much better. Her lips are pliant, soft and sweet.

He hears her whisper something and murmurs, “What did you say, Love?”

She rests her forehead against his, her breath ghosting over his lips. “It’s about time.”

He pulls away a little, blinking in surprise. “What do you mean?”

“Do you know how long I’ve wanted to kiss you?”

“If it’s half as long as I’ve wanted to kiss you, it’s a very long time.”

She gives him that heart-melting smile he loves so much. The one she seems to only give to him. “Do you remember the first year we won the cornfield maze and you picked me up and spun me around?”

“Aye.”

“When you set me down and looked at me, for a second I thought you were going to kiss me. Ever since then, I wished you would.”

His brows shoot up. “That long ago?”

“How long has it been for you?” she asks.

“From the moment I met you.”

Now her brows climb up her forehead. “Seriously? I thought you were getting over a breakup and was only looking to make new friends.”

“I did want to make new friends and wasn’t looking for anyone to date but you…there was just something there…a spark between us. At least, on my part.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I’m a bloody fool and a coward. Even when I saw you going out with those two wankers, I couldn’t work up the nerve to tell you how I felt. I guess I was afraid you wouldn’t feel the same and it would make things awkward between us.”

“I was an idiot to go out with them. I thought if I found someone else, I could get over my feelings for you. It didn’t work.”

“I’m very happy it didn’t.”

“So…what do we do now?” she asks.

“Well,” Killian smirks, swaying her back and forth in his arms, “now I suppose we should find our way out of this bloody maze.”

She wraps her arms more tightly around his neck to pull him closer. “We don’t need to be in any hurry.”

His eyes grow comically wide. “Who are you and what have you done with Emma Swan?”

She playfully slaps the back of his head. “Shut up and kiss me, Jones.”

He happily does as told.

Ruby and Jefferson end up winning the team competition, but Emma and Killian win each other. That is, by far, the sweetest prize of all.

*********

Thank you for reading! Be sure to check out all of the great stories and art in the CSSpookyAutumnalBingo2024 collection on Ao3.

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[missvelvetsstuff]

With Friends Like You, Who Needs Enemies

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Reader is a mutant with the ability to turn sound into light who was 'adopted' aka stolen as a child by Baron Von Strucker to use for experimentation. She was given a form of the Super soldier serum so in addition to her mutant abilities she also has super strength, enhanced senses and healing. When he starts experimenting on his volunteers, the Maximoff twins, she tries to convince them to escape with her but they tell the Baron that she's planning to escape so he doubles her cell security. Steve and reader met when the team recovered Loki's scepter from Strucker.

She falls in love with Steve and becomes good friends with Nat but they aren't the friends she thinks they are.

Notes: this story is canon adjacent except that Thanos never happened.

I try to keep my readers description vague but, as always, she's female and above average height.

***Previous Chapter***

Bucky raced back into the main room, searching for Wanda first in the hopes that her powers could help find Rainbow.

He grabbed Wanda's hand and pulled her to interrupt Tony and Peppers dance and blurted out, voice cracking

"She's gone! Natasha was here and helped Steve separate us and now they're all gone."

Chapter 9

Warnings: swearing, angst, a little sex talk, torture

Rainbow woke up with a pounding headache but when she tried to rub her head, realized she was restrained and felt her heart speed up. She worked to calm her breathing until her head cleared some and assessed her situation. Sitting up, hands tied to the arms of the metal chair, legs tied to the chair legs.

It was dark in the room, no windows or lights just a sliver of light from the crack above the door so she hummed to herself and tried to use her powers, to make any kind of light at all but had the wind knocked out of her by an electrical jolt. She realized whoever did this put some kind of mutant restraint on her, so they knew she was a mutant. She struggled to remember how she ended up here. She saw flashes of the party and remembered how it felt to dance with Bucky.

Then it all flooded back. Dancing with Steve, the blonde woman kissing Bucky. She felt her heart break a little but she tried to push that aside for now, in favor of plotting her escape. Whoever it was probably didn't have good intentions but her guess was that Nat was involved.

She heard a heavy door opening slowly and braced herself.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Steve raced his bike out of town, his heart thrilled at the chance to have Y/N all to himself again. No more Bucky following her around like a sad puppy, turning her against Steve. He decided that stupid rainbow nickname would be the first thing to go. Then he would teach her how to be a proper wife for Captain America, demure and classy in public but a needy whore in his bed. His sexual appetites surpassed what most considered acceptable even in the 21st century, which is why he kept fucking Nat but now he would train Y/N, not just to cater to his needs but to crave the depravity that he needed, no deserved for what he did for the world.

All that would be after he had marked her as his. He waited so long, was so patient with her but he wasn't waiting anymore. She would be his, tonight. He had put together some toys and other aids to introduce her to but first things first. Tonight he would take every hole she had and cover her with his release and if she was a good girl he might make her feel good too.

He pulled up to the building and jumped off his bike, adjusting his tightening pants before he started walking. He went thru the first floor and down the stairs to the basement then used his key to open the padlock but when he opened the door, the room he had prepared was empty, except for the furniture he had brought for her.

Steve tore the room apart looking for Y/N even though he knew there was nowhere to hide. He felt his rage growing, blood pounding in his ears, he hit the wall and released a violent scream "Natasha!!".

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bucky felt like he was losing his mind. Golden boy Steve Rogers had betrayed Rainbow, him and the entire team while his nemesis, Tony Stark, was being surprisingly supportive and helpful. Tony tried to be encouraging by telling him the story about when Pepper was kidnapped by Aldrich Killian, with emphasis on the happy ending. Reminding him how strong Rainbow was.

Not to mention Sam was actually being a supportive friend without all the snarky remarks that Bucky was in no mood for.

Even if they didn't usually get along it was good to know he had friends who would be there when the chips were down. When the man he considered a brother betrayed all of them. Bucky promised himself he would make sure to express his appreciation for his unexpected allies. After she was safe, in his arms where she belonged.

Steve, on the other hand should probably stay out of Bucky's sight for the foreseeable future because he couldn't promise not to beat Steve bloody.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/N jumped when the door hit the wall and braced herself for the worst. The blonde woman came into view, laughing as she twirled a knife.

"Poor little girl, in way over her head and no soldiers in sight. What ever will you do?"

Y/N spat "I already know it's you dear sister, you can lose the wig. That's your favorite knife, I'd know that design anywhere."

The woman pulled a cloth mask and the wig off, still smiling like a lunatic before she got into Rainbows face "Careful little freak, your life is literally in my hands."

Rainbow shook her head "You're planning to kill me no matter what I do so I don't see why I should censor myself."

Nat laughed "Oh but maybe if you stall long enough your beloved Jamie will save you. If you can only distract me until he gets here."

She scoffed "You can try but it's unlikely any of them can figure out where you are before I get bored and kill you."

"Won't Steve be upset if you kill me?" Rainbow asked

Nat just chuckled "Like I care. Even Steve doesn't know where you are. He was dumb enough to help me get you away from Barnes so I'm sure that he believes that I'm helping him." She grinned, looking manic

"Hint-no I'm not helping that self righteous prick but I did need someone to help me take you. All I had to do was suck his cock and promise I wouldn't let anything happen to you. I cried and told him I love him and just wanted him to be happy. I don't know why his dumb ass fell for it but here we are. Did you know that while you were in Asgard and I was prisoner to the Avengers, Steve still couldn't stay away and came to fuck me 4 or 5 times a week? If you hadn't discovered us we'd be going behind your back until I got bored. I don't care what Strucker did to you, Steve would have been more than you could handle."

Rainbow shook her head "Why not just take him, he's the one you want. I never did anything but try to be a friend. Even when I found out about you two I didn't do anything to you until you started breaking bones. All this is between you and Steve, I'm a victim of both of you and don't want anything to do with either of you anymore.

Why can't you leave me alone?"

Nat grinned with an evil glint in her eye before slapping Rainbow across the face "Because you are just too much fun princess."

She sighed "Besides, Steve only wants me for sex and hurting you will get to him faster than anything I could do to him. Imagine how sad he'll be with his precious Rainbow dead and his bff blaming him for it. It's going to be spectacular, way worse than that little scuffle in Germany. Steve Rogers vs the Avengers, I'd pay to watch that."

Rainbow took in a shaky breath, trying not to let Nat see how scared she was.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

At the compound Tony and Bruce were trying to figure out where Rainbow had been taken, while Bucky paced a hole into the rug.

Tony looked up "C'mon Barnes I know you're worried but you're getting on my nerves. Why, I-"

A door slamming and heavy footfalls interrupted Tony's lecture. Before anyone knew what was happening, Steve entered the room and Bucky had him slammed up against the wall with his metal hand pressing on his neck.

"Buck" he tried to speak "Please."

Bucky heard Steve using his nickname and roared, slamming him against the wall again

"What did you do? Where is Rainbow you bastard? You did this and if she gets hurt I'm gonna make you wish you were still on the ice."

Steve coughed and tried to speak before Bucky squeezed his throat harder, until Tony interrupted

"Come on Barnes, I totally empathize with you wanting to beat his self righteous ass but we need to keep him alive until we find her. He's the only lead we have."

Bucky looked at Tony, who nodded, and dropped Steve who fell to the floor, coughing.

Bucky crossed his arms over his chest "Well, Rogers, what do you know?"

Steve cleared his throat "I don't know where she is. Nat and I had a plan but I lost sight of them and they aren't where we arranged to keep her" the last few words were whispered as Steve tried not to cry.

Bucky growled "Keep her?" he hit the wall "You planned to keep her?" he started pacing again to distract from the deep need to hurt Steve. He took a deep breath "So it wasn't enough to lie to her, treat her like a stupid child then cheat on her and break her heart? You just couldn't let her go could you?"

"Look, Buck-"

Bucky hit the wall "DON'T FUCKING CALL ME THAT!!" sobbing "You sonofabitch." Bucky collapsed against the wall

"Now Nat has her and I don't know where she is. I hope you're happy with yourself because we both know Nats gonna kill her but probably not before torturing her." He paused trying to get his emotions under control.

When he looked at Steve again Steve felt a chill and imagined this was how the Winter Soldiers victims felt right before they died.

Bucky's voice was cold "You will tell us every single thing that might help us figure out where Natasha took Rainbow. You better hope that we find her before it's too late because I can't promise I won't hurt you if that's the case."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As the team was trying to figure out where Rainbow was, Nat was enjoying playing with her before killing her.

Rainbow tried to keep calm so that Nat didn't know how scared she was but Nat was too good at reading people.

"Poor little princess trying to keep a brave face but I know you're about ready to piss yourself. You might tell yourself that they will save you but I don't think they'll figure it out in time."

She showed off playing with her knife until she was practically in Rainbows lap

"Did you know that Barnes and I were lovers way back when? The Soldat came to train us in the red room and he did so much more with me than combat training. It's a shame you'll never find out because he is well above average and even brainwashed with his memories wiped he was a great fuck." She smirked.

"I wonder if your soldier would still want you if you weren't so pretty? What do you think? I think probably not. You won't be seeing him again but I'll leave a few reminders on you, just in case."

She ran the knife down Rainbows cheek, barely enough to hurt but Rainbow felt the blood that the cut released before Nat wiped a finger on her cheek and showed her the blood.

Nat cut the other cheek next, then across the top of her breasts, then smearing the blood around Rainbows chest before stopping to assess her work.

"So pretty. I think I'll stop cutting for now, don't want you to lose too much blood and pass out on me. You need to feel everything I'm gonna do to you."

Nat moved away from her and looked through a bag of torture devices. She pulled out a pair of pliers then returned to stand over Rainbow with a psychotic grin "I'm sure you went to have your nails done before the party."

She grabbed one of Rainbows hands "Of course you did, very pretty but the party is over so no need for all that."

She looked at the hand as though she was admiring the fancy manicure then suddenly used the pliers to pull a nail clean off the finger.

Rainbow shouted in pain and Nat laughed gleefully "Oh honey, we're just getting started."

By the time Nat got to the other hand Rainbow was close to passing out from the pain and fear "What do you want from me? I'll do whatever you want if you please stop."

Nat cackled "Silly little girl, I want you to suffer before I kill you. There's nothing you could offer that I need or want more than watching you cry and beg for me to stop. Besides, when I'm done, you're dead so don't wish for something you don't really want."

Rainbow cried softly, overwhelmed with the pain and betrayal caused by the first friend she ever had.

She passed out before Nat finished removing her fingernails.

Nat shook her head "Well that won't do at all" and threw a bucket of cold water at Rainbow. Grinning at the girls spluttering and coughing, Nat grabbed one of her feet to start on those nails and didn't stop until all of her nails were gone.

Rainbow tried to think about Bucky so the pain wouldn't feel as bad but her daydreams kept disappearing as Nat continued her torture. She was close to passing out when Nat slapped her across the face a few times.

"No way princess, I'm not done with you so WAKE UP!"

As she yelled, Nat shoved her knife into Rainbows stomach, causing her to jolt awake screaming.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

At the compound they were still trying to find where Nat and Rainbow had disappeared to when Tony hollered "YES! I've got it. I know how to find her."

Chapter 10

[godeaterazathoth]

Issues I have with ikevamp

That I’m venting here because they won’t leave my skull

*Content warning, we’re talking about men in the past, they did some bad stuff*

Part 1, historical inaccuracies

I’m I history nut so this really gets to me, since I know the deep details of these peoples lives.

The timeline, ok so the game takes place in 18th France, correct me if I’m wrong but I think it is in the second empire (1852-1870) considered there is a noble class, yet you can clearly see the Eiffel Tower which was completed in 1889, there is no mention of the 1889 exposition, so it must be after the tower had become permanent, by then the 3rd republic was around, if we are in the republic the Count wouldn’t be called that by the npcs at all the parties he goes to, no matter which we’re in, NOBODY mentions Napoleon III at, NOT EVAN HIS UNCLE (WHOSE SOMEHOW BECAME CASS CONSCIOUS!)

How does the time travel work, example, Dazai died in 1948, his plan was seemingly to wait until he’s born in 1909 then kill himself as a baby, but then he decides to use the magic door, what are the consequences of 2 Dazais existing at once or him erasing himself from history, he’s a pretty important literary figure, does someone else replace him or does the space time continuum collapse?? Is the future Vlad sees set in stone or can it be changed, just copy someone else’s time travel bit!!!

So straight up these guys aren’t who they say they are, we’ll go through 1 by 1

Napoleon- doesn’t mention he left the love of his life to marry a girl 20 years his junior (like think how interesting it would be if he’s conflicted about love cuz he had to give it up for political reasons) -that scene where MC talks about all the ‘good’ that he did in Europe, like committing war crimes against the Spanish and Portuguese and Eastern Europeans, being a coloniser, killing the slaves he freed when they asked for more rights, killing thousands of men in a meaningless war (ligit H*tler vibes)

Arthur- goofy irl, literally believed in fairies, had 5 children and married twice but he never mentions any of this, he cheated on his first wife while she was dying of TB, he was a liberal unionist (tldr didn’t like Irish people) he was anti-immigration, might have committed fraud. We’ll get to the other issues I have with him.

Leonardo- fruity as hell, vegetarian

Mozart- they got his character completely wrong, the guy was a complete man child, vain, broke, by the end of his life his career fell off (Beethoven better composer), in love with his cousin 🤢, had a s*at fetish 🤢🤢🤢. The hole Salieri thing didn’t happen.

Vincent- they made him too mentally stable, I’m all for him being meek, but the guy had serious issues that they ignore, he ate paint thinner, was rejected by his both crushes, WHY DOES HE HAVE BOTH EARS, DID IT GROW BACK, THEY SHOULD HAVE LEFT HIM WITH ONLY ONE, also he should be ginger smh. Oh yeah and they never mentioned the s*ecide attempt.

Theo- doesn’t mention his wife, or son, WHO HE NAMED AFTER VINCENT, his wife is the person responsible for Vincent’s work not being completely forgotten, was way nicer irl.

Issac- tbh hotter irl, low key ace, maybe a fruit, kinda mean, the only thing they got right was the major virgin vibes.

Jean- WHY MAN!??!! Even if the didn’t want a lesbian route, they could have gone with any other guy from the 100 years war, Edward black prince, idk WHY GENDER BEND ONE OF THE MOST PROMINENT WOMEN IN HISTORY, I’m fine with the delusional trans dude lie, but they say that he was a guy all along, THEN WHAT WAS THE POINT OF HIM BEING BURNT AT THE STAKE IF HE WASN’T CROSS DRESSING???!!! was he double cross dressing??? This is the worst of them all, give me the girl boss we deserve (revers fate)

Dazai- not depressed enough imo, he was a leftist, again missing wife, their were two su*ecide attempts, guy lived through fire bombing, had a few children that he is fine to erase from existence.

Shakespeare- probably a fruit, again never mentioned his wife and kids, btw the way he talks is annoying, some people don’t think he’s real.

Faust- NOT A REAL PERSON.

Sanson- too young, this guys is 67, really liked the guillotine, just saw execution as his job didn’t really care, had a wife and kids.

Vlad- Ok is he supposed to be Vlad THE impaler? Cuz he’s not evil enough, or is he a Dracula reference, cuz he can’t dance that dance either, why did they call him Vlad if he isn’t a blood thirsty war criminal.

Count- not enough history to work with.

Part 2, problematic moments

So I ha have seen some posts on the low key misogynistic way the MC is written and treated and there are a lot of issues wit white washing history so another trigger warning ⚠️

Misogyny- the MC of this game is not the best, I know she’s a self insert but she has no backbone at all. She lacks agency I’m most of the routes, like the MC getting kidnapped is a troupe in all these games, but Emma can escape on her own, Kate has ⚽️, even Alice had more depth to her, seems the only thing MC can do is cry and wait to be saved, I swear she gets kidnapped once in every route, I think they could have given her more character to work with. Another thing, but Jean being a man is bad, really bad, she’s a feminist icon but they made her a man, it’s sought of saying that women aren’t capable of this so she had to have actually been a man.

Handling of SA, important one here, I’m ok with the flirty guy, but I really hate Arthur, he doesn’t just flirt with her in chapter 1 he assaults her and acts like he did her a service, and she just forgives him!?! I’m fine with a guy that sleeps around, I like Jin and Nokto fine, but the way Arthur talks about women, always calling them Birds (if they were going for English slang it doesn’t work cuz he doesn’t have a cockney accent) or worse Skirts, it’s dehumanising, and shows that to him women are vehicles for sexual pleasure and aren’t on an equal level of understanding. There are smaller parts to, Leo kisses her without consent, the Count hides the truth from her, idk but Theo calling her a ‘hound’ sounds like he’s calling her something else…

Minor points on classism, I’m not expecting the communist manifesto, but all these games aren’t very good at dealing with class deviation. In Vlad’s route, the orphan boy thinks he can impress the rich girl, this is the 19th century, capitalism is on the rise, but there’s no comment about how it’s impossible. The little school Napoleons runs is strange, considering he was in a position where benefited from poor people existing and staying poor, ( side note, he’s teaching them swordsmanship when ww1 is right around the corner, just saying they won’t need it in the military) called MC out as a social climber, these games sought of depict the past through rosé tinted glasses, there’s only passing reference to how fucked people were in the past, Also all the historical inaccuracies above tie to this.

Anyway love to hear some other opinions, (I started playing this game before my transition and have always thought it it was wired, it’s my personal least favourite just cuz I couldn’t really get into any of the guys, my OC ended up as a Carmilla reference so….)

I have seen a post talking about some of the issues before so that’s what got me to write this out, if you disagree or want to add anything I’m all ears 👂

Thanks for reading 💗💖💖💕💓💝💗🥰🥰🥰❤️✨✨✨✨❤️⭐️⭐️⭐️

[bingbong21]

"My Generation" Translation Part 1.

Next

Hello there! I haven't seen anyone translate the BB drama track yet (and I refuse to get twitter to really double check), so I am mustering all my limited willpower and throwing my hat into the ring!

This post covers from 0:00 until 11:03. Because I feel like translating 40-ish minutes of drama track would make this unbearably long. Also if you see a number, that means there's a note I want to make because I did take some liberties.

With that said, here we go!

News anchor: Yesterday the functionality of Hypnosis Mics was restored, and reestablishment of Chuohku’s command is underway.

Ichiro: It’s been a week since the Block Party and we’re already back to normal huh?

News anchor: In addition, regarding the postponed Third Division Rap Battles, the Administrative Inspection Bureau announced that it is too early to decide to cancel the event.

Ichiro: Ha…The Division Rap Battles…

Rei: Yo! Sorry to keep ya waiting. What’d you want?  

Ichiro: Thought I’d give this back. *tosses keys*

Rei: Hm.

Ichiro: It’s the keys to the car you lent me. It’s parked over in that lot.  

Rei: Hmph. Is that so?

Ichiro: That’s all. Sorry you went out of your way.

Rei: Eh, I had work around here anyway so it wasn’t a problem to come get the keys.

Ichiro: Hmph. Later. *goes to walk off*

Rei: How are they doing?

Ichiro: Aa?

Rei: Jiro and Saburo.

Ichiro: They’re away right now.

Rei: Hmm?

Ichiro: The festival made them want to see more of the outside world, so they both went on a trip.

Rei: *laughs* Finally getting used to parenting, huh?

Ichiro: Quit screwing around. They’re still kids. Until it’s time for them to enter society, I’ll be sure to take proper care of them.

Rei: Hmm.

Ichiro: It’s common sense. Later. *walks off*

Rei: Now then, wonder what’ll happen?

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jiro: I’m back Aniki!

Saburo: Ichi-nii, I’m home!

Ichiro: Oh, welcome back! What’s this? You guys decide to come home together?

Jiro/Saburo: No way!/Not at all!

Jiro: We just happened to meet up!

Saburo: Ichi-nii, please listen. I’ve learned so many things because of my trip!

Jiro: Oi! I’m gonna talk first, so you be quiet!

Saburo: Grh…Don’t you shut up?

Jiro: What was that?!

Saburo: Aa?!

Jiro: Aa?!

*sounds of them fighting*

Ichiro: *laughs* Looks like nothing’s changed since before your trips.

Jiro: That’s not true! I worked together with them and learned a lot of different things!!

Saburo: Me too! I got a lot of inspiration from interacting with people in the countryside!

Ichiro: I get it, I get it. How about we go eat, and you can take turns telling me about it, yeah?

Jiro/Saburo: Yes!

*sounds of dinner*

Ichiro: Eeh? So Jiro, how did you end up traveling with the company president?

Jiro: Oh! I happened to be given a ride by the company while I was hitchhiking. His company was getting merged, so I helped him with a lot of different things.

Saburo: Heh. You probably just carried his bags the whole time.

Jiro: Did not! That’s a problem he dealt with himself!I got to do consultations with the investors. I also got to attend business meetings with clients and mediated fights between employees!

Ichiro: So, did you achieve the purpose of your trip?

Jiro: Yeah! It’s crazy how much I learned working with a lot of different people. Things can get pretty complicated when you bring together people with different ideas who all want to improve the company.

Saburo: Ha! You talk like you actually understand it.

Jiro: Shut up! Is it your turn to speak?!

Ichiro: *laughs* Well, I’m glad it seemed to be a good experience.

Saburo: Me too! I had a very interesting experience!

Ichiro: You went to the countryside, right Saburo?

Saburo: Yes! My idea was to bring technology to rural villages and encourage regional revitalization!

Ichiro: Oho, that’s a pretty grand plan isn’t it?

Saburo: But, after I lived there for a bit, I realized that the inconveniences and simple way of life (1) aren’t a bad thing.

Jiro: Yeah, I get ya.

Saburo: Ha? What do you possibly “get”?

Jiro: Well I mean, look at it this way: our journeys were different, but it sounds like you and I learned the same things, yeah? 

Saburo:No we didn’t! The depth and quality are of a completely different order of magnitude!

Jiro: Tch, why do you have to be so annoying?!

Ichiro: *thinking* They’ve been able to expand their horizons.

*door bell rings*

Jiro: Oh? Who could that be this late?  

Saburo: It’s way too late to be making a request.

Ichiro: Just a minute! *opens door* Yes? Chairman?!

Chairman: Apologies for coming so late. As the chairman of the Neighborhood Association, I have a favor to ask of you.

Ichiro: Ha…please, come in for now.

*re-enter home, gets tea*

Ichiro: So, this urgent consultation…is it about work for the Neighborhood Association or something?

Chairman: No, the truth is I’m currently in talks about a large-scale urban development project.

Ichiro: Urban development project?

Chairman: It seems that Ikebukuro’s biggest hope is to build a large suburban facility. The stores will be closed down, and those lots will be where culture, sports, and commerce come together. They want to build the largest desired large-area suburban facility. And that’s why I’m in a bit of trouble.

Ichiro: I’d like to hear more details

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ichiro: I see. You want a response and now your family is having a falling out.

Chairman: Yes. At first there was only opposition from the current generation of my sons, who are in charge of the stores. But recently my grandchildren’s generation has begun to rebel, and things are starting to get out of control.

Ichiro: That seems difficult.

Chairman: Here I am thinking of everyone’s happiness, but they just don’t understand a parent’s feelings at all.

Ichiro: When you say that…

Chairman: I’ll only say it here: it’s been tough, even for our family’s fish shop that supports the other stores. If this keeps up, we won’t be able to avoid bankruptcy.

Ichiro: And when that happens, your family’s way of life will be destroyed.

Chairman: Yes. This is a difficult decision for us Neighborhood Association officials. However, when we think about the lives of our sons and grandchildren, we’d rather replace the shops with the urban development.

Ichiro: Haa…

Chairman: They’ll get all the money from the buyout. With that amount, our sons and grandchildren will be able to live their lives without any problems.

Ichiro: Chairman…

Chairman: We are sad about the loss of the stores. But more than that, we want out children to have happy lives.

Ichiro: Me too…I’m my younger brothers’ parent, so I completely understand how you feel.

Chairman: I thought you would say that. But, that’s just how a parent is supposed to think. Ichiro-kun, could you help me to convince my sons?

Ichiro: Of course. Please leave it to me.

Chairman: Oh! You’ve really saved me!

Ichiro: So when is the deadline to respond to the urban development plan?

Chairman: The person in charge said it will be in a week.

Ichiro: Understood. If that’s the case, I won’t be able to gather the others’ opinions by then.

*door opens*

Jiro: Aniki! Let me help too!

Saburo: I heard the whole story. I want to help as well!

Chairman: Jiro-kun, Saburo-kun! But, you two are still just kids.

Ichiro: If it’s these two it’ll be alright. Please leave this matter to my brothers.

Chairman: Well, if you say so Ichiro-kun…

Ichiro: Yessir!

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ichiro: Let’s go over the situation again. A large-scale urban development project has come to Bukuro, and the people in the shopping district are being approached to sell their land. It looks like opinions on how to respond are divided. First we have the clients, the Chairman’s generation. Then, we have the current generation who run the shopping district. Finally, below them, is the grandchildren’s generation. Here is what each of them have to say.

Saburo: So the grandchildren’s generation don’t want to sell the land and want to continue running the store there.

Jiro: But the working generation has an option to sell the land and open a store in the new facility as a tenant. Isn’t that the best option? They’d be able to get money and keep the store open.

Ichiro: It seems that the difference in selling prices is quite different.

Saburo: I see. So in other words, there’s a difference between cashing in the right to open a store and exercising the right to open a store in the facility. (2)

Ichiro: However, it seems like the shopping district manages all the stores. Meaning that if they were to become a tenant, there wouldn’t be any hope of making a profit.

Jiro: So like the chairman said, it would be best to convert everything into cash?

Ichiro: Yeah. Everyone is getting emotional and it’s difficult to have a discussion. However the response to the developers is due in a week. If we don’t hurry, we’ll run out of time.

Jiro: In that case, why don’t we gather everybody at West Gate Park and have them listen to the full story?

Ichiro: That’s a great idea!

Saburo: There’s probably a key person for each generation. If they speak for everyone, I think it’d be quicker to talk to them.

Jiro: The leader of the shopping district union is probably the one who organizes the current generation. Which in that case would be the fish shop’s old man.

Ichiro: I heard the person who organized the grandchildren’s generation is the old man’s son.

Saburo: That means it’s a three-way struggle between parents and sons, doesn’t it?

Ichiro: Aha…Well, can I leave the gathering of the people to you two?

Saburo: Yes. It’s already late today, so tomorrow Jiro and I will split up and see what we can find.

Jiro: What do you think about scheduling the meet-up three days from now?

Ichiro: Ah, there’s no problem with that. I’m counting on you.

Jiro: Yessir!

Saburo: Please leave it to me!

Ichiro: Jiro and Saburo have really changed in such a short period of time.

Notes:

Saburo actually says “mazushisa” which is poverty and I uh. Am a Saburo fan first, human being second so uh. I interpreted more favorably for him lol

This was tricky because it used “kyouju suru” which literally means “to teach” and like. Idk, maybe I’m an optimist and want to believe they have been told all their options. So I went with exercise, as in they the second generation are exercising their right to tell the new facility to give ‘em a spot

[alex-guerin]

I need to rant for a minute...

I live in a very small town, 1400 people. We live in town, on a double lot. We have lived here for 3 full years now. We moved here after living 30+ years in the middle of nowhere cornfield countryside. Our dogs had trouble adjusting to town life and not being able to bark as much as they used to, but they're better about it now and really don't bark outside much unless they spot a critter or the neighbor's dogs come outside.

Our neighbors. Who moved in a full year after us. Who knew upon viewing the house that we had big dogs that barked. Who upon signing and getting the keys for the place met our dogs and we're like, "Oh, we know dogs bark. We have two big dogs, ourselves, it's not an issue." Who two months after moving in, decided our dogs were an issue and the wife declared war upon me, my mom, and our dogs. Neighbors who now bitch and moan whenever our dogs go outside to go potty, while their dogs are out, and all the dogs just wanna chase each other and play, but can't because these neighbors scream at their dogs to get in the house and leave our dogs alone. These people throw loud af pool parties all summer long. Have bonfires that are probably by all rights too big to be having in town. They have loud af parties year round. Are constantly yelling and cussing up a storm. Including their 10 year old son, who likes to taunt our dogs and glares at us whenever he sees us.

We have worked very hard to keep the dogs from barking much. We don't have loud parties. We don't blast music or yell constantly or scream cusses every other sentence. Occasionally, my mom and I will decide to have a nice little fire to burn up some dead branches we cut from shrubs or other yard trimmings. Never any trash (unless you count the newspaper used to start the fire). We have our very rare fires on a Saturday night, when there's almost no breeze.

Tonight, for the first time in probably a year, my mom and I decided to have a fire to burn up the weeds and trimmings and keep our firepit from getting over run with weeds. Neighbors were not home when we lit the fire. There was basically no breeze, so the smoke was going straight up. With the exception of the occasional wisp that would float off towards the neighbor's house.

All of the sudden, the neighbors fly up on their side-by-side and I hear the wife going, "Well it HAD BEEN a great day! [Some indistinguishable drunken babbling]...burn their TRASH!!" I was getting ready to go pick up our pizza and I heard something from their house, glanced over just in time to see a window get slammed shut and blinds pulled down. Followed by another window slam shut. Apparently as I was leaving, the wife stood on their front porch and screamed, "Way to go, KAREN! You fucking bitch!" My mom (Karen) was on our side porch, confused as hell, and even called back, "NOW what do you think I did?" The wife stormed out onto the back deck and was yelling at my mom about us having a fire and the smoke going in their house, she started slamming shit around and slammed the door. My mom said she could hear the wife screaming inside their house from where she stood on our side porch.

To make things even better, my dad has apparently been talking to the neighbor husband. And telling him that my bro (who is staying with us and is the head mechanic at the little auto shop in town) is "no-good, lazy, useless, piece of shit"...and neighbor husband has run his mouth enough that it's starting to cost the shop business. I don't know how much, but my bro told us tonight that yeah, neighbor husband was supposed to bring wife's van in for something (tune up? Oil change? I dunno), but that neighbor husband told my bro's boss, "Oh, but you got that useless [Surname] kid working for you." Bro's boss was understandably confused and asked what he was talking about, "You mean Chief?" "Yeah! That useless fucker." "I don't know what you're talking about. He comes in every day, he does his job, he does it right, he's fast, he knows what he's doing--" "Eh, well, all I know is that he's a no-good, lazy, useless, piece of shit." And then did a no-call-no-show on his appointment, wouldn't answer the phone when they tried calling him. And a couple other people have mentioned that they heard from neighbor husband to stay away cuz his mechanic isn't any good. I don't know as though the neighbors have ever even really met my bro. For that matter, they've never even really met me or my mom, except to scream at us from across the fences because of our dogs, or fall decorations, or we decided to have a little fire and enjoy the gorgeous night.

We try to keep to ourselves. We just want to be left alone with our dogs. We live by the saying, "you leave us alone, we'll leave you alone." A few months after they moved in, I was trying to bring our dogs in cuz I saw them come home and our dogs started barking, so I was trying to be polite and bring them in. When neighbor's wife started screaming at me about our fall decorations, cussing at me, and sent my anxiety through the roof and put me into an anxiety attack and I stood shaking and crying in the kitchen because of it. After that, my mom decided to write up basically a statement to give to not only the town cops, but the county cops also, about neighbor wife and how she acts towards us etc. Just in case she ever decides to do something towards us.

But it's just like, damn woman! Leave us alone! We don't say anything about your loud ass parties that go until 3am. We don't say anything about your dogs barking at us when we get home and they're out, in fact most times we'll smile and call "Hi Teddy! Hi Toby!" When we see them. We'll give polite smiles and waves to them and their kid when we see them as we're leaving. We don't bitch and moan and cuss up aloud storm when they're having their pool parties and bonfires.

Why are THEY allowed to have dogs that bark, and loud parties year round, and massive bonfires and shit, but we have to keep our dogs quite at all times and not put up any decorations in the yard that the wind might turn to face their yard and can't have a little fire of our own on a nice night?

[melishade]

Well, now only one of Megatron's allies is left without a show. So if you can ask what if Predaking was a Attack on Prime. There would then be a set of three faction leaders, and Hange would go crazy at the sight of him. Sorry for translation errors. English is not my native language

This is a unique case, and this is mainly because of Predaking's overall character and character story in Transformers Prime.

I've discussed this with a few people, but Predaking really did get the short end of the stick in the show. A great parallel to him would be the monster Victor Frankenstein created. He was created for war, and because someone wanted to defy the very nature of god. He was constantly feared, lied to, betrayed, abused, ridiculed, you name it. And this all happens in the span of months after Predaking is born.

Predaking desires one thing: to lead more like him. To be amongst his own kind. To be respected and not be treated like some animal. His serving Megatron and helping him conquer before Megatron decided to double cross him, was no doubt a way of Predaking showing loyalty and gratitude for life and kinship with his own kind. So to hear that all three were apparently killed in RID2015 by Starscream is such bullshit though.

Would Predaking have turned good in the show if given the opportunity? I think he would, but it really just depends on who's showing him respect and treating him like an equal. Also, based on what we've seen with Predaking, he is someone who values honor as well. I just don't think Predaking would be evil for the sake of being evil. There are multiple factors to this. @emperor-kumquat explores this well with the TF Mercy game-story line, which explores the different paths Predaking could take: good, evil, or neutral, post TFP. It's a very interesting concept. Go check it out.

So knowing this, Predaking's place in Attack on Prime would be conflicting overall. He could probably leave with Darksteel and Skylynx to find a place to call home, or maybe he just refuses to be on a world of Autobots and goes alone. Or maybe Darksteel and Skylnyx are the ones killed off, leaving Predaking devastated. If he were to arrive on AOT, I don't think he would side with anyone. He's not going to side with Paradis because Megatron's right there. If anything, Predaking would try to kill Megatron for what he did to the Predacons on Earth. And he still blames Optimus for that too, because the Autobots ultimately did throw that grenade. Predaking would probably go after Optimus next. Would Predaking kill Optimus? Maybe. He's obviously not going to side with Marley because of the literal oppression of the Eldian people that reminds him of the abuse that he's endured.

...he could actually...he could serve as a third party. With Hizuru. Instead of Predaking going to Paradis or Marley, he hides out in Hizuru after sniffing out an energon deposit on their land. The locals spot him in predacon mode, and instead of running away in fear, they begin to worship him. Predaking finds offerings left for him by the energon deposit he's act. Confused by it, and the humans. Sure, the worship is doing wonders for his ego and pride, but he just doesn't get why they're worshiping him.

Besides Hizuru aligned themselves with Eldia in the past, I'd like to think that they kept their culture and traditions, instead of having it trampled and wiped out. And Predaking's form, which is reminiscent of a dragon, has the locals thinking that he's a god of their lands.

This does get wind to Ambassador Kiyomi and a new OC that I alluded to before hand via word of mouth from Kiyomi, Emperor Taisho. He orders Kiyomi to go to Predaking's location with some armed men. When they arrive, Predaking, in his beast mode, sees the weapons and immediately gets angry. He's screeching and acting intimidating, but doesn't attack. That's key here. They are all scared, and Kiyomi trying to figure out why, since Predaking didn't attack the local and let them leaves gifts. She puts two and two together and tells everyone to drop their weapons immediately. They are extremely reluctant given the situation, but Kiyomi is steadfast in her decision. They all do, and Predaking calms down, but is still growling at them.

"Apologies, mighty one." Kiyomi bowed, "We mean no disrespect. My name is Kiyomi Azumabito: head of the Azumabito Clan and ambassador to Hizuru. It is an honor to meet someone as great as yourself."

The dragon had stopped growling at them, but still raised it's head, looking down at them with contempt. Kiyomi raised her head and continued. "Many around the area believe that you are a god of our ancestors, great and powerful. They leave you offerings as a sign of respect."

The dragon tilted its head at that, and Kiyomi noticed the dragon's gaze turning to the small pile of offerings at the mouth of the cave it resided in.

"But...I know that you are not a god," Kiyomi proclaimed. The soldiers snapped their heads at Kiyomi, staring at her in horror. Did...did she just offend a dragon?!

"Ambassador!" one of them warned in anger and fear, but the dragon...didn't seem offended by Kiyomi's proclamation. In fact, it...snorted at the comment before sitting down on the ground, its front claws crossed together.

"I might not know the exact name for your specific species, but I have seen for myself some of those like you on Paradis," Kiyomi explained, "The scales mimic the metal that they are covered in. And so few mighty beings are capable of flight on this world of ours. And the locals say, that you have been hording glowing, blue, rocks, which your kind calls...energon."

The dragon's brow perk up at the word, almost surprised that Kiyomi would know such a phrase.

"You might not be one of the gods Hizuru treasures so greatly, but I know that you are a mighty being from beyond the stars, called a 'Cybertronian'." Kiyomi declared with a smirk, "So, mighty one, would you please care to reveal your actual form so that we may have a proper discussion of the implications of you being on our land bring?"

The dragon...seemed amused at Kiyomi's question, and Kiyomi prepared for the worse, but the dragon...suddenly began to change. Its body twisted and morphed, its elongated body turned into a human like one. Its claws turned into razor sharp hands and feet. Its wings were tucked behind its back. And its face changed into a human-like one, with horns poking out of its head like a crown.

"I could have eliminated you from the face of this world, little human," the dragon spoke with an accent, "But as of this moment, I see no need to. However, I do not appreciate weapons being brought into my domain."

"You are on Hizuru soil," Kiyomi reminded, "If anything, you trespass on our lands and bring us a great deal of trouble."

"I seem to bring a great deal of trouble to everyone around me because everyone fears what they do not understand," the dragon said, "This is quite the most relaxed I have been. I would prefer to be left alone, and I have the resources that I need. Leave now, and consider this conversation done."

"You do not seem to mind the offerings brought to your door." Kiyomi gestured to the small pile.

"I do not know what they are, and I have no need for any of them," the dragon explained, "I only allow it because these locals do not attack me or threaten me."

"Yes, because they believe you are a god of Hizuru legend," Kiyomi explained, "But that is not what the humans outside of are country will see you as. They will see you as a monster, a demon, a beast that must be struck down and stripped of its parts. The very components that make you your biology, is something so enriching and valuable it would bring great power to those who hold it."

"I doubt humans like you are capable of going against my might," the dragon declared.

"Maybe, but what about titans?" Kiyomi challenged.

The dragon was...perplexed at this question. "Titans?"

"Titans are very powerful and monstrous being," Kiyomi explained, "Many of them feast on humans, but only nine of them hold very rare and powerful abilities that could even go up against someone like you. A country called Marley has taken the resources that you feast on, and made these titans even more dangerous than before. They cause harm to millions of us humans around this world, and may very well become a threat to you, once they become aware of your existence."

"Then perhaps I have no need for this planet, and will continue my search for a new haven elsewhere," The dragon declared.

"You could, but I can only imagine how long that you take," Kiyomi sighed in defeat.

"You seem to underestimate my might, human," the dragon snarled.

"Oh, I would never," Kiyomi feigned innocence, "But how long did it take for you to find this world: a world full of substantial resources you could horde all to yourself, and a population that adores the ground that you walk on? And how long would it take for you to find the next one? Before something dreadful happens to you in that vast unknown?"

The dragon seemed to be considering Kiyomi's queries while everyone else grew tense. "A fair argument; however, I am not privy to the ways of humans. And I do not trust your kind, or anyone else for the matter."

Kiyomi noticed the bitter, angered, and pained expression in the dragon's eyes. "Because you yourself have been betrayed by someone you have trusted. Haven't you?"

"...perhaps," the dragon replied, "My past does not concern you."

"Then instead, we can work together towards a brighter future for the both of us. One where you are fed, protected, and worshipped, and one where we grow stronger to protect our motherland together."

The dragon contemplated this offer for a brief moment. "I will...consider."

"Thank you for this audience...," Kiyomi trailed off, "If I may ask, what is your name?"

"I have called myself Predaking," he introduced.

"A king with no subjects," Kiyomi mused, "How odd."

"Do not press your luck, Azumabito," Predaking warned, before transforming back into beast mode and retreating to his cave.

(You will learn more about the Emperor and Hizuru, in the Hizuru OVA coming out on March 19th. And once that is released, I will answer more questions that come into my inbox about this topic.)

[tolerateit]

Guess what it's time for in the new year? A shit country update!

So the air traffic control organization in my country, the people that are in charge of planes taking off, landing, and flying over our airspace, had created a couple of job posts hiring new air traffic controllers. However, they made it so the job posts last a shorter time than it's mandated by the government so they could hire via nepotism. Unfortunately, these people who applied for the jobs didn't know what that job consisted of, so when the time came for their knowledge to be tested as part of the hiring process, they left the exam. One of the main people in the organization was so upset that something like this could happen under him that he quit and went to media outlets to tell everyone about it. A bunch of other people who are against hiring via party connections aka nepotism hires also quit the organization, and then there was a press conference to explain what happened. I need to say the whole situation is ethically complicated and explaining it would demand I explain the last couple of decades of the politics here so I'll just gloss over for this story. Anyway, during the press conference, two ethnicities were showing support to the guy talking about the problem with nepotism hiring. That's when an employee in this air control organization belonging to one of the ethnicities used his key card to go inside the building at the airport, along with a bunch of other people, and beat up the employees belonging to his ethnicity because they decided to express support against nepotism hiring. I'm mentioning the ethnicities because some people, high up the flagpole, who belong to that ethnicity, believe a bunch of fucked up narratives about erasing the country they're living in, and tend to work hard to make it happen behind the scenes. It's an oversimplified explanation that will have to do for now. So they believe that they have to "stick together with their own". The situation got reported to the police, and now it turns out the guy in charge of the fight has done this before about a decade ago. But back then the employees weren't smart enough to make copies of the video tapes showing what happened. This time, they were, and now there are tapes. The guy is high up the flagpole in a political party that organized a terrorist attack or two throughout the years (can you tell how shit this country is yet? There are literal terrorists in government). The organization wanted to organize a strike a few times in the last month but they were stopped because of politics. Last night, all these criminals that went in to fight were "called in for questioning" but half of them are on the run. Now instead of a security company protecting and securing the air traffic control building, the police took over, to pretend like they're gonna make it "safer" and the entire organization might be fired next week by the government. The main guy in charge of air traffic control is gonna have a press conference in a few minutes so I'll share if there are any fun updates. But the public's reaction right now is: this should be considered a terrorist attack, because if this happened in any other country, that's how they would treat it, and we should all stop flying through our airports because they're unsafe since they wanna hire people who have no idea what their jobs entail.

A month ago another horrible thing happened unrelated to this that shook the entire country, there was a double murder involving another political higher-up (as in he committed the murders), but the situation still hasn't finished for me to share it in its entirety.

Oh my god. Nepotism and political agenda fucks up so many different sectors it's so frustrating and disappointing

[bookaddict05]

Girl in the chair - Pt 2

Here we are sitting on the edge of Milo's double bed vile in hand. I look at Milo smiling so proud of my best friend and the step he is about to take to become his true self.

"you ready?" I ask him while I take the needle into the vile and absorb the testosterone. Nodding giving me the go ahead I put the needle into the exposed skin of his thigh and push in the liquid.

-- 1 month later --

We are at the rugby club for presentation night. I noticed a group of lads earlier when we first arrived and he was amongst them. Finley. Later on that night while sitting down I spot him again and that's when I grab Milo's attention.

"Oi emo" I say while waving my hand in front of Milos face trying to snap him out of trance. I nod towards the bar getting Milo to look over and when he looks over I see a mischievous glint over his eyes.

"Go talk to him" he says with a mocking tone knowing I would never dare do such a thing. I laugh back at the comment he made but then he starts to stand up and head right over t where they were all standing. I quickly grab his arm and drag him back over to where we were.

"What I need a drink"

"No you don't"

I swear this boy wants me to die from embarrassment one of these days. We party for a bit longer before deciding to head home to get rest for the next day. We are on half term break but we have been tasked from our lecturers that we have to start looking at universities to go to.

-- back at home --

I'm getting out of my nice red satin dress when I hear my phone buzzing like crazy. I head over thinking it to be Milo but turns out to be an unknown number. I pick up the phone.

"We know who you are, don't think your safe just because who your dad is"

"erm hello, who is this, Milo are you pranking me again, I told you the last time its not funny"

"We will get you, watch your back"

A dial tone comes over the phone. They hung up. Who the hell was that? And what did they mean about my dad? A knock at my bedroom door disturbs me from my thoughts as my mam walks through.

"You had a good night pet?" she asks.

"Yeah" I say while walking into my bathroom changing out of my dress into a pair of joggers and my usual hoodie.

"Awh that's good then" she drops some ironing on to my bed and asks me to put it away and then leaves the room shutting the door behind her.

I try to ring Milo to tell him about the phone call I just had but it goes straight to voicemail. I decide to trace his phone on my computer to find out where he is.

Of course he's at Emily's what a shock. I grab my house keys deciding to walk seeing as I've had a few drinks and won't be able to drive. I walk out of my street immediately feeling uneasy. As if someone was watching me. I pick up my pace a little but I still felt a pair of eyes piercing through me. I decided to go on my phone and pretend to ring someone, but that's when I saw the figure behind me through the glare of my phone. I turn around immediately but there was no one there. A rush of relief flows through me as I look back at my phone and see a news alert.

"Webbed Vigilante causes CHAOS at Old Ayles Corner shop"

WAIT WHAT! IT ALL MAKES SENSE NOW.

Milo. He's became just like the comic. Holding the ball over my head, asking for my SPIDER girl comic book, why he didn't answer my phone call and why he's been overall strange. HES BECAME SPIDERMAN.

I turn around to continue walking to Emily's and walk straight into a person who almost feels like a brick wall. I look up and he's wearing a mask and in the corner of my eye I see his arm glinting in the moonlight. OH LORD. Its the winter soldier and where he is, its never good news.

"I told you I'd find you Doll" he says looking directly into my eyes. fight of flight instincts kick in and I knew for 100% I wouldn't be able to fight him. So I decided to run. He doesn't chase after me. He stands there watching me run away. Looking unbothered, like he knew exactly where I was going.

-- Emily's home --

Before barging into Emily's room I knock like the polite woman I am.

"It's you isn't it" I questioned him. "Your the spider thing all over the news you idiot". I walk directly over to him and slap him across the head. "Why didn't you tell me?

"I didn't know how" he shrugs.

"Milo I'm your best friend, she's your lover or whatever you two are I haven't really figured that one out yet but that doesn't matter, you should've came to us not go out and try to be a vigilante". Me and Emily quiz him on every ability he has, using my knowledge of my comic seeing if he has all the same abilities. After a while we turn on a movie but then my dad rings me forcing me to come home.

As I leave the front door to start walking that's when I see him again. Across the street from me under the lamppost with the light shining on him, making him look even more daunting than before. He starts walking over to me again without a mask this time, smiling in the most devious way ever, like a predator after finally catching his prey.

That is when I notice a familiar figure walking the street near. Finley. I would never do this but its a life or death situation so I run over to him.

"Hi, I'm not sure if you know who I am but there's a man over there who keeps following me, is it okay if I walk with you?" I look at him with a look of terror.

"Y/n, right? sure no problem" he smiles as we walk away into the night.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

AH! pt2 done and dusted.

I wonder what the winter soldier wants to do with y/n and what's her father gotten himself into.

this is y/ns (tess) point of view from @ladmarkinnit's web head series. go check out his version (trust me its really good)