#to at least fucking agree that it's a WORTHY GOAL TO WORK TOWARDS

[nientedal]

"but if we abolish prisons, what will we do with violent criminals? should we not lock them up so they can't hurt more people?"

questions for questions. one: are there are people who, given every support and every attempt to rehabilitate, every mitigation strategy, given resources and therapy and money and time, will still choose violence? i don't know. YOU don't know. but anything is possible, and i will freely admit i don't have the answer to that yet.

but also, two: yeah, what about them? because what i DO know, and what i need you to try to understand, is that prison already does not prevent violence. the threat of it doesn't deter violence to begin with-- look around you-- and it doesn't stop violence after the people deemed "too dangerous" are locked up. they simply commit violence against other prisoners instead.

so, the thing you're concerned about losing? the ability to prevent someone from committing violence? that's already not a thing. it is not happening. the thing you're worried about losing HAS NEVER EXISTED. "but how will we stop violent criminals from hurting people" is the first thing out of anyone's mouth in response to the idea of prison abolition, but we already don't have a solution to that! that is NOT SOLVED! you can't see the violence anymore, but it is still happening! at the hands of the guards, if not these "violent criminals" you're so worried about, so the problem of violence IS NOT SOLVED by locking people up, do you understand? no one is locked up to keep them from hurting people, they are locked up to ensure they can only hurt people whose pain has been deemed acceptable.

instead of saying, "we can't abolish prisons because violent criminals will hurt people," please ask yourself: is the current violence against disenfranchised, systemically vulnerable people so much more acceptable to you than violence against the public that you will advocate against helping people, instead of hurting them?

[wingsofanillyrian]

Lights Over Monaco: Chapter 1

ITS HERE! I plan on updating this weekly/biweekly, based on how busy I am. Let me know if you wanna be added to the tag list! 

Special thank you to my new F1 friend for inspiring this fic as well as being my beta reader, @acourtofcouture​ ! F1 fans out there, her fics are AMAZING

Chapter Masterlist

F1 Glossary

----------------

Nesta Archeron discovered Formula 1 when she was 9 years old. She woke before the sun one Sunday morning, quietly excited to have the television all to herself and watch whatever cartoons she wanted. But she couldn’t remember what channel they were on, instead flipping through the programs. She had almost given up when she stumbled across a race.

The moment she had seen the brightly colored open-wheeled cars flash across the screen, she paused. For whatever reason, the high pitched wasp-like scream of the twelve cylinder engines and the astonishing speed that the drivers were travelling enthralled young Nesta. She didn’t look away once for the rest of the race, or even for the post-race interviews and wrap up that most adults skipped. Something about it had her adrenaline pumping.

Nesta traded her dolls for matchbox cars, and when she grew older, picked up racing magazines instead of teen ones. Ever since that day, Formula 1 consumed her. No matter how the other kids or her two younger sisters teased her for it, her love for the sport never tarnished. 

She spent years getting up at 2 am to watch live races that were being held halfway around the world. Instead of going to her senior prom, Nesta stayed home and layed out her predictions for the season’s drivers and constructors championships. She didn’t know how to do anything half-ass. She poured her whole heart into the sport and devoted her life to it.

**********

Nesta spent her 24th birthday working. It wasn’t like she could request the day off, not that it mattered. The racetrack at Monaco was exactly where she would have been anyway, working or not.

A press pass got her through the first security checkpoint. The team tents loomed ahead as she waited for personnel to cross the unstriped asphalt, inching her car carefully through the throngs of people. She rolled her window down, soaking in the sound of air tools and snippets of conversations. 

Street tracks like Monaco were her favorite. They required drivers to push themselves with plenty of technical corners and dramatic incidents. There was less room for error, as the tracks themselves were not as wide. Drivers had to know their limits and follow the racing line closely.

Race tracks were Nesta’s comfort zone. She knew each track on the calendar like the back of her hand. Every turn was permanently etched in her mind like words on a tombstone. Race weekends followed a set schedule, something that she could appreciate. Friday: practice laps. Saturday: more practice, followed by qualifying, where each driver got the chance to set the fastest lap and secure a spot in the starting line up for the main event on Sunday.

Before she had graduated college, Nesta had managed to fully entrench herself in the world of Formula 1. Securing an internship at ESPN her sophomore year, she had made herself indispensable to the crusty old man that had been the senior track side reporter for decades. She studied everything he did and the questions he asked each driver, noting what changes she would have made. Somehow, he came to admire her spirit and taught her the tricks of the trade.

When he retired the year after Nesta graduated, he went to the board of directors and personally recommended her to fill his spot. She waited two agonizing days for their decision. 

Using whatever means necessary, Nesta had clawed her way to the top and cemented her reputation as the most cutthroat reporter in the industry. Her goal had been for everyone in motorsport to know her name, and in only two years, she had done so. Better yet, she had caught the eye of one of the fastest drivers on the grid.

Her phone rang just as she pulled into the press parking area. She answered, not bothering to check the caller ID. “Hello?”

Tomas’ velvety voice thundered through the speakers of her Civic. “Hey baby. You here yet?”

“Just pulled in,” She replied, touching up her makeup in the rearview. 

“Right on time for a quickie. Meet me at my trailer in five.”

Tomas had already hung up before she had the chance to protest. Both their reputations hinged on their relationship staying secret. If the press caught wind that she was fucking a driver, her credibility would go out the window, and Tomas would be the laughing stock of the grid. So sneaking into his trailer wasn’t exactly the type of discreet she was aiming for.

Tomas Mandray had been racing for Red Bull for two years when she had scored her first exclusive interview with him. He had just been awarded pole position at the Spanish Grand Prix in Barcelona, and Nesta had sweet talked her way into the paddock. It had taken minutes for his charming blue eyes to enchant her. He had won that race, and taken her to bed straight after. 

The sex was great, but that’s all it ever was. Their relationship was purely based on the physical; nothing emotional on either end. They had agreed on that from the start. Just sex.

Unfortunately for Nesta, somewhere along the way it had become something more.

Sighing, she put on her oversized sunglasses and hid her tawny hair under a gauzy scarf. The fashion wouldn’t stand out at all amongst the celebrities that frequented the Monaco Grand Prix. Going over the top here was expected; Monaco was known for its money. Due to the lack of income tax, Monaco was a haven for white collar delinquents and royalty alike. Lamborghini’s and Ferrari’s were commonplace, and women wore rings that could set a jewel thief up for life. 

No one bothered her as she strode towards the pit checkpoint, flashing her press badge to get by. She fell into her usual cadence, exuding an air of importance and invincibility. Seemingly without realizing, people moved out of her way when they saw her coming. The navy, red, and yellow of the Redbull tent came into view, and Nesta inserted herself into the crowd of mechanics and VIPs to get past security. Press wasn’t allowed in the area until after the race.

Nesta broke away once inside, heading down a back corridor. She knew the layout by heart, having walked the path many times. The door at the end of the hall led outside to Tomas’ private trailer. She didn’t bother to knock before entering. Tomas would already be waiting for her.

He set down his phone as she entered. “Finally,” He said with a savage grin. “We only have a few minutes.”

****************

Tomas left as soon as he finished, donning his jumpsuit without so much as a kiss goodbye. Utterly used to the behavior, Nesta straightened her clothes and again touched up her makeup before heading back out.

She was scheduled to conduct a pre-race interview with Cassian Valle in the Mercedes tent in twenty minutes. Redbull and Mercedes were at opposite ends of the pit, giving her plenty of time to think.

Truthfully, Nesta was dreading the interaction. Cassian was an arrogant ass. She couldn’t stand interviewing him; all he did was skirt around questions and try to flirt, which made it incredibly difficult to get any headline-worthy tidbits from him.

Azriel Sainz, Cassian’s teammate at Mercedes, was much more amiable. He was mostly forgettable and quiet, but always gave her something to work with and was sometimes downright pleasant to talk to. She could understand why the public loved him, but not why they were so enamored with Cassian. Sure, he was a three time world champion, and that earned him plenty of fans, but he was just so… dreadful.

She made it to the Mercedes pit just minutes before the scheduled time, immediately spotting her tense cameraman, Jacob. Slim built, he was average looking, nothing special. He was sweet though, if not a bit of a pushover.

“Where the hell have you been?” He hissed, chocolate brown eyes wide. “Valle is waiting.”

Nesta rolled her eyes, handing Jacob her sunglasses and the scarf. “I’m here now, aren’t I? Not my fault if he was early.” Nesta accepted her microphone and rolled her shoulders. “Let’s get this over with then.”

“Happy birthday by the way,” Jacob added. Yes, there was the pushover side shining through. 

Nesta threw a grin at him over her shoulder. “Thanks.”

Cassian’s back was to her as she approached, his white Mercedes jumpsuit half on, the arms of it cinched around his waist. The crisp gray shirt he wore left little to the imagination, hugging his sculpted form. Good; at least that would capture the attention of any women that might be watching. As would the deep brown curl that fell in his face when he turned to her.

“If it isn’t my very favorite reporter,” He crooned, a grin plastered on his face. “Took you long enough to get here. I also hear it’s your birthday.” Nesta glared at Jacob. He shrank under her steely look, an apology stumbling from his lips.

“I would give you a birthday kiss, but I think you’d knock me out if I offered.”

Nesta pointedly ignored him, “Let’s just get on with it,” She said, motioning to Jacob to start recording. Once he signaled he was ready, Nesta breathed deep, the sweet scent of high octane fuel assaulting her senses. It steadied her, and she slipped into her professional mask before turning to the camera.

“As we all know, the Monaco Grand Prix offers drivers a unique set of challenges. The two-mile street course has 19 technical corners with little room for error. It is in Monaco that we get to see who has what it takes to be a Formula 1 champion.” She turned to Cassian, gave him a professional smile and continued.

“Last year, you had a puncture at turn seven when you ran over some debris. Coupled with the fumble the pit crew had with not having your tires ready when you came into the pit, you finished a disappointing 12th place, winning you no points in the driver’s championship. Do you expect that this year will be better, or will you stick to your usual aggressive driving style?”

Cassian laughed, running a hand through his unbound curls. “Yeah, I don’t think I’ll be changing anything. You can expect to see me on the podium, sweetheart. Most likely in first.”

Nesta grit her teeth. She couldn’t air that, and he knew it. “How about you answer the question without trying to piss me off?”

“It’s too easy,” Cassian said, that devilish grin returning. Nesta cut him a glare that simmered with violence. “Alright fine,” He relented, putting his hands up. “Go again.”

She repeated her question, and this time he answered, “I don’t really see any need to change my driving style, what happened last year was a fluke. I went wide on the turn and didn’t notice Vanserra's front wing until the last second and wasn’t able to change course.” Nesta nodded, encouraging him to go on. “I don't see myself making any mistakes like that this year. You can expect to see me on the podium, most likely in first.”

“Thank you for that Cassian. Good luck on the track today.”

“Thank you,” He said, waving at the camera. He paused before adding, “Though I won’t need luck.”

Nesta rolled her eyes and signaled for Jacob to cut the recording. At least that last bit could be edited out. “You are absolutely insufferable, you know that?”

Cassian shrugged, undoing the arms of his fire suit and slipping into them. “I do my best.” He winked at her before zipping up his suit, opening his mouth to say something else when the Mercedes team principal, Rhysand, barked at him to get his ass in gear. He gave Nesta a wordless salute before jogging off.

“I don’t know how you do it,” Jacob said, packing up his camera. “That guy has balls.”

“He’s a Formula 1 driver,” Nesta said simply, putting her sunglasses back on. “Of course he does.”

**********

Nesta watched the 78 lap race from the press box, silently cheering Tomas on. Each time the pack of cars passed, the windows rattled, doing little to muffle the engine noise. She chatted with the others as necessary, keeping one eye on the tarmac below. Tomas had started from pole position, and held onto first place until the final 10 laps. He had attempted to lap an AlphaTauri driver when the driver had failed to yield, violating FIA regulations. The two had bumped tires in what was ruled a racing incident, but Nesta knew better. Tomas had lost his cool and nudged the other driver on purpose, nearly sending him into the wall. 

It was a bad call on Tomas’ part, as the comfortable four second lead he had held over second place shattered. Nesta swore under her breath as Cassian overtook Tomas, her heart dropping when the other Mercedes driver, Azriel, did the same. Tomas would not be happy about that. 

When the checkered flag waved, Cassian was first, Azriel second, and Tomas third.  The winners parked before the podium, anger radiating from Tomas as he tore his helmet off. Tamlin, the Redbull team principal, said something to Tomas that had his cheeks burning red. 

Nesta grabbed Jacob and headed for the press room. They had a half hour tops before the post-race interviews started, and Nesta had to make sure she was front row. Though it didn’t matter where she sat; she always made sure her questions were answered.

It was more so for Tomas. She wanted him to see her, to see the understanding on her face and know she supported him even when he didn't win.

They were first to the press room, and Nesta had ample time to prepare questions. She couldn’t question Tomas, or she risked uncapping his rage. Instead, she jotted down a question she knew would shift the focus from Tomas to the Mercedes drivers.

Reporters began filing in, vying for the perfect spot and debating the race results with one another. Nesta remained in her seat, determined to maintain her composure as her stomach churned. Tomas finally entered, jaw set as he took his place on the stage. Nesta tried to subtly catch his eye, but he pointedly avoided looking at her. 

Cassian and Azriel entered, laughing and congratulating each other. Nesta noted the slight change in Tomas’ posture, the only hint of the blood boiling beneath his skin. Cameras flashed, reporters shouted, but still Nesta remained seated. Cassian, at least, sought her out in the crowd, and flashed her an ‘I-told-you-so’ grin when he found her. Once the clamor had died down, Nesta stood. The room quieted further, the others having learned not to talk over her if they valued their jobs. Nesta had a knack for digging up dirt on anyone she pleased.

Her eyes were still locked on Cassian as the moderator indicated she could ask her question. 

“Azriel,” She started, turning to the dark haired man, “You were lucky you were able to take second in this race, after the incident in turn twelve on lap 27 when you sustained heavy damage to your front wing, thanks to the actions of your teammate. Does it ever get under your skin that Valle’s overly-aggressive driving threatens your own position in the championship?”

The room was silent. Tomas hid his grin behind a well-manicured hand. Cassian’s eyes narrowed, a muscle in his jaw fluttering. Good; she had hit a nerve. Azriel shrugged, crossing his arms. 

“It was a racing incident. Could have happened to anyone. I don’t think the blame lays entirely with Cassian; I could have given him more room on the corner.”

And that was that. Nesta didn’t ask any more questions, but she could feel Cassian glaring at her throughout. At the end of the interview, all three drivers thanked everyone before leaving.

As Nesta made her way back to her car, she texted Tomas.

You okay?

Her heart pounded as she waited for the reply. Her phone buzzed minutes later.

I’ll be home late. Party at the Redbull house.

Oh. Okay. See you later then.

“Happy birthday to me,” She muttered, stuffing the phone in her pocket.

Nesta wasn’t sure why his reply stung, but it cut deep. She had hoped that he would want to see her instead of going to another party and spend time with her on her birthday. Instead, he would probably stick his tongue down another woman’s throat like usual. She couldn’t really blame him. Their relationship had to remain secret and to do so, Tomas had to maintain his playboy aura. It wasn’t really cheating if she had agreed to it.

But if that were true, why did it hurt so fucking bad when he did?

Some of her tension eased when she finally spied her car in the lot. The Blue Bullet, she had nicknamed it, due to the strikingly bright paint. It was the first purchase she had made upon being promoted, and it had since become her pride and joy. She had chosen it because it set lap records left and right when it had hit the market a few years back, and she had craved speed her whole life. On city streets, this car was the closest she could get to experiencing Formula 1 without completely breaking the bank.

“How about you don’t ask stupid fucking questions next time your prettyboy loses?”

Nesta’s breath hitched. Your prettyboy. The accusation was clear. Her hand slipped from the door handle, turning towards the voice. If he knew… If he knew about her and Tomas, they were done for. She willed her voice into solid steel.

“Cassian. I would advise you to choose your next words wisely.”

He placed a hand on her Civic, getting in her face. “Racing means you have racing incidents. I don’t expect you to understand, seeing as you’ve never been behind the wheel of a real race car.” He sneered at her car, the insult striking home.

Fear faded, replaced by a rising wave of scarlett rage. Nesta’s gaze stuck to where his hand lay on the bright blue paint, utterly vexed by the infringement. She bared her teeth at him, rising to the challenge in Cassian’s flaming hazel eyes. 

“Get. Off.”

Cassian started at the command in her tone and obeyed. He opened his mouth, but she cut him off. “Understanding the nuances of Formula 1 is my job description. I asked about that incident because I knew it would piss you off. Looks like I was right huh?” Her temper was getting the better of her. “And by the way, would it kill you to give me a decent quote once in a while, instead of always trying to get in my pants?”

“I do not-”

“Oh go fuck yourself,” Nesta scoffed, yanking the door open. 

The corners of his mouth twitched upward as she slammed the car door. “I was already planning on it.”

Those parting words haunted her drive home, even as she took the long way in hopes of blowing off steam. She shifted through the gears, throwing the Civic around corners much faster than was probably safe. Nesta didn’t care; her head was a mess. At least he hadn’t mentioned anything more about Tomas. Maybe Cassian had just thought she had a crush, based on the way she had been looking at him during the conference. Gods, she couldn’t get Cassian out of her head. 

His grin followed her up the stairs to her apartment, where she snapped the curtains shut. She couldn’t bear to look out over the track any longer today. 

Those words echoed in her head as she brushed her teeth and crawled into bed alone. Swam through her thoughts of Tomas, as she struggled to keep her eyes open when the clock showed 1 am. As she finally gave in, they were her last thought. 

I was already planning on it. 

@aphoeni @planet-faerie  @nina-zcnik @linsimin @that-little-red-head @teagoddess99 @enpointe10 @electronicstrawberrystrawberry @awesomelena555 @iptneus @weesablackbeak @wonderland--memories @nessian-trash-heap @magicalwaterfall @perfectlyimpxrfect @cassians-wings @valkyrie-archeron @acourtofcouture @nesemryn @chloepereyra @illyrianshadowhunter​ 

[cutelittlestar]

Steal My Girl || Peter Parker x Reader {Smut!}

Summary: While on a trip, Peter plans to confess his feelings to you but everything is ruined by a boy who also has his eyes on you. Once Peter finally unveils the truth, things get steamy... 

Word Count: 5.7k

Warning(s): fem!reader, fluff, slight angst, SMUT, language, MATURE CONTENT, 18+ (you & Peter are 18)

A/N: lordtt.....plz forgive me, for I have sinned. This has been secretly written in my notebook for quite some time, and I was always too scared to post it online. Now, I say fuck it. As always, I love you all and I hope you enjoy!!!😘💕❤️ 

For those of you who may be wondering about my other series, Maniac and Lone Wolf, it may be a while bc of college and work (being an adult SUCKS). But, I promise I’ll try and upload the chapters whenever I can! 

*gif is not mine!

Once again, Midtown’s decathlon team was given another opportunity to travel to a different state for a tournament, where they would compete with other high schools for the national title. Peter was extremely excited because this was your first trip with the team, and he wanted you to have an unforgettable experience; that’s why Peter created a meticulous yet worthy plan that would help him accomplish his goal. His plan consisted of various things, such as taking you to popular locations, exploring the city late at night -despite curfew- and doing spontaneous activities he knew you would love. Most importantly, Peter made this plan in hopes that he could confess his feelings for you. He’s had a crush on you since freshman year, but he was always terrified to tell you the truth. Now that senior year was almost over, the pain of withholding his raw emotions was too unbearable to handle. It’s now or never, Peter thought to himself, and for a while, Peter believed his plan was going to work. 

But, he was wrong. 

Peter’s plan began to crumble the minute that Daniel Miller entered the picture. Daniel was everything that Peter wasn’t - he was perfect, a star-athlete, tall,  and he had an impeccable character that made him lovable. Every girl had a huge crush on him, and they had every right to find him appealing. In the beginning, Peter didn’t really seem to care about Daniel, but now that Daniel was purposefully sabotaging Peter’s plan, Peter was beyond angry. Anytime that Peter was with you, you were whisked away by Daniel for various idiotic reasons. 

The first time Daniel took you away, he lied and asked if you could switch seats with Flash because he was ‘severely’ allergic to peanut butter crackers. You, of course, offered to change seats, completely unaware that Daniel was luring you towards him. Peter felt his blood boil; he clearly remembers seeing Daniel eat a Reese's Peanut Butter Cup a couple of days before. The second time Daniel took you away, you were sitting next to Peter in the dining hall at the hotel before Daniel ‘accidentally’ spilled hot coffee all over his body; once again, you fell for his trap, and you offered to help him, despite Daniel being eighteen years old. The third time Daniel took you away, you were watching a movie with Peter; Daniel somehow convinced you that he needed your help and asked if you could quiz him for the upcoming competition, to which you agreed. Every single time that Daniel succeeded, he would give Peter a relish sneer, mentally gloating that he had successfully stolen you away. 

Although Peter absolutely hated Daniel with every fiber of his soul, It’s not like Peter was going to force you to stop talking to Daniel - that would be a dick move - but if Peter had the chance to throw Daniel off a building, he would happily do it in a heartbeat. However, as you were spending more time with Daniel instead of Peter, Peter’s hope was gradually disappearing. 

Now, Peter morosely sat in his hotel room alone, imagining Daniel constantly flirting with you the whole afternoon and evening. By making up a quick lie and telling Mr. Harrington that he had a stomach ache, Peter was able to sulk in his room while the rest of the group was exploring tourist areas in the city before the big competition. Peter had come to believe that Daniel had won and decided there was no point of trying to win you back; there was no way that you would ever love him, Peter thought to himself, not when Daniel is still around.

Meanwhile, as Peter was sadly believing that Daniel was now professing his love for you, you were sitting on your bed, your room right in front of Peter’s door, completely unaware that Peter stayed behind as well. You, too, lied and said that you were feeling sick, but in reality, you wanted some time away from Daniel. He was becoming extremely annoying, but you didn’t have the heart to tell him the truth. While you assumed that you were going to have some peace and quiet, that dream was utterly destroyed. As usual, Flash opened his big mouth and told Daniel that you were in your hotel room, so now, you were sitting inches away from Daniel as a movie was playing in the background. You pretended to listen to the movie, but you constantly thought about Peter, wondering how he was doing. You felt horrible for leaving Peter alone so many times, and you wanted to apologize but you never had the chance to. 

“You okay, Y/N?” Daniel confronted, noticing how your eyes were not watching the screen. You rapidly blinked, turning to look at Daniel before giving him a half-hearted smile. 

“‘M fine, just thinking about Peter,” you honestly confessed, hoping that Daniel would further question you, wondering why you were so worried about Peter. Instead, he said the exact opposite. 

“Meh, don’t worry about Parker right now. It’s just you and me, pretty girl.” You let out a frustrated sigh, to which Daniel didn’t pick up, and you mentally rolled your eyes, hating how Daniel always changed the topic whenever you would bring up Peter. If you knew that Daniel had this fuckboy persona, you never would’ve given him the time of day. You remained quiet and glued your eyes to the screen, hoping that Daniel wouldn’t notice your disinterest in the horrible movie he picked out. You faked a laugh as something ‘hilarious’ showed up on the screen, but then you felt your phone vibrate on the nightstand. You leaned towards the furniture, detaching your phone from the charger and unlocking your phone. MJ sent you a text; you assumed she sent you a photo of where they were at, but when you read the message, a frown settled on your face. 

Peter is in his room right now, very upset. Do you think you could check up on him? 

Without needing any more information, you turned off your phone and jumped out of the bed. You turned to look at Daniel, who paused the movie, and you gave him an apologetic look, hoping that he would understand what you were about to tell him. 

“I’m sorry, Danny, but I just got a text from MJ. Peter is upset and I have to make sure he’s okay.” 

“What?” Daniel responded in an annoying tone, hating that Peter, once again, was ruining his plans. “Are you serious right now? We’re watching a movie, you can’t just leave me here.” 

You glared at Daniel, deeply despising the way he spoke to you, but you bit your lip, not wanting to argue back and forth. You slipped on your shoes and proceeded to ignore Daniel’s snarky attitude. 

‘Daniel, I don’t get why you’re so mad. I’m checking up on one of my closest friends, what’s your fucking deal?” you snapped at him, causing Daniel to lean back in shock. 

“My deal?” Daniel angrily repeated. “My deal is that you’re paying too much attention to him. We’re having a great time together, I just hate that Peter is getting in the way of that.” 

You rolled your eyes, unable to believe that Daniel actually thought you were having a great time. The boy merely spoke about himself and nothing else, and you found him extremely boring. You let out a laugh, to which he didn’t like, but you didn’t give a fuck anymore. “Danny,” you started, “don’t try to control what I do. I’m leaving and that’s final.” 

You angrily grabbed your phone, ignoring his protests and pleads, but just as you were about to open the door, the idiot had the nerve to open his mouth once again. 

“Whatever, go run to Peter. But, I promise you this, he can’t show you a good time like how I can.” 

You remained still, feeling your blood boil due to his vulgar comment. You were trying your hardest not to chuck your phone at his face, but instead, you turned around and gave him a smirk.

“I doubt that, Danny. From what I heard, you barely have four inches,” you retorted before opening the door and slamming it shut. 

You mumbled curse words under your breath, wishing you could’ve smacked Daniel across the face, but Peter was your top priority. In a quick second, you were now standing in front of Peter’s door, and you anxiously knocked on it. Peter was pulled out of his thoughts once he heard someone knocking, and he got up off of his bed and walked towards the door, opening it halfway. To say the least, Peter was surprised to see you standing right in front of him, and he wondered why you were back so early. Judging by your irritated face, Peter knew something was on your mind and you wanted to get it off of your chest, so he moved to the side and fully opened the door. You walked inside, continuing to spew out profanities, but then you closed your mouth, remembering why you were here.

“Peter, is something bothering you? MJ told me you were upset,” you said, causing Peter to stiffen. Peter hoped that MJ didn’t tell you the real reason he was upset, but he remained quiet, wanting you to continue speaking. You walked towards the bed and plopped down, patting the empty spot next to you, signaling Peter to sit down. Peter obeyed, and you instantly leaned into him, laying your head on his shoulder. 

“You can tell me anything, Peter. I’ll listen,” you remarked, hoping that Peter would tell you the truth. You hated seeing him sad, and you were willing to do anything to make him happy. Peter let out a big breath, slowly working up the courage to say what’s been on his chest for the past four years. You lifted your head, shifting your body so that you were now fully facing him. You watched as a shaky Peter was fidgeting with his fingers. 

“You want me to be completely honest?” Peter timidly whispered, deciding that now was finally the time to say he’s had a crush on you since the moment he laid eyes on you. You nodded your head, eager to know the cause of his sorrows.

“Yes, of course, Pete,” you replied, getting anxious by the second as Peter was stalling time. Peter bit his lower lip, not knowing how to perfectly form his emotions into words, but when he opened his mouth, everything came spewing out. 

“I’ve been in love with you since the day I saw you, and I made this very tedious plan to confess my feelings for you while we were on this trip - but then fucking Daniel ruined everything - and that’s the reason why I’ve been so moody. I was going to take you to various places in the city - and I even bought you a bracelet with our initials on it - but now that I’m saying it out loud, that’s kinda creepy and I’m sorry, and I’m rapidly speaking so I can run away from the inevitable - which is you turning me down because you don’t feel the same way.” Peter heavily panted as he finished his rant, but there was a long moment of silence as you stared at Peter with wide eyes. 

“No fucking way,” you breathed out, unable to register what Peter was saying. All of this time, you thought that Peter didn’t like you, but when he finally admitted his feelings, you were completely taken aback. Holy fuck, you thought to yourself, Peter loves me. Peter loves me.  

“I know, I know-,” Peter sorrowfully replied, rubbing his forehead, hurt that you were ridiculing him because of the way he felt about you. “It’s hilarious that a guy like me thinks that he can get with a girl like you. Hahaha, but it hurts, Y/N, I have feelings an-”

“Peter,” you interrupted him, moving closer until you were inches away from his face. Peter closed his mouth, feeling his heart rapidly beat in his chest as he began to cherish every feature on your face; his heart felt like it was going to explode due to the lack of distance, but you didn’t seem to mind. In fact, you loved the effect you were having on Peter. You delicately placed your hands on his chest, and you discreetly remained calm, despite you being able to feel how strong his chest was.

“I love you, too” you heartedly declared, anxiously smiling as you waited for Peter to respond. You watched the corner of his lips curve upwards, and you lovingly stared into Peter’s eyes, noticing the crinkles around his eyes become more prominent when he grinned, and you absolutely adored it. He was like a ray of sunshine, his smile was more than his mouth; it was his voice and his words, and it was utterly beautiful. 

His eyes briefly widened, but then they became soft as he now watched your cheeks turn pink like a spring tulip. 

“Are you like, serious? You’re not messing with me right now?” Peter managed to say, unable to accept that the girl of his dreams just told him she liked him. You let out a slight chuckle, running your hands up until they peacefully rested on Peter’s neck; you slowly leaned your forehead against his, deeply staring into his eyes.

“I’m a hundred percent serious, Peter. I love you so fucking much.” You drew Peter towards you as much as you could, and in the first second, he inhaled your enticing scent. It smelled pleasant, light, and refreshing - there was a slight hint of fruitiness, but it wasn’t overbearing nor masking your natural scent. The next second, your lips are on Peter’s, and he openly invites you into his arms. For such a long time, Peter kisses you with such delicately and tenderness, and you didn’t want to pull away. This felt right, and you knew that Peter felt the same way. Peter was your perfect guy, and you were going to make sure he knew that every single day of his life until the day he dies. 

Peter departs his lips from yours, despite you moaning for more, and he takes a moment to lovingly stares into your eyes, gingerly holding your face in his hands. Your eyes sparkled with delight, and if Peter could, he would freeze this moment forever, never wanting to move forward. Although Peter’s plans didn’t go the way he wanted it to, the outcome was, nonetheless, just as beautiful as he imagined it. 

“Kiss me again, Peter,” you quietly demanded. 

Peter leans into your touch, finding your lips once again - but then something inside of you changes. The soft tender kiss turned into a vicious, needy make-out session. The sweet, timid, and friendly girl Peter used to know was completely gone and was now replaced with a rough and aroused one. You gradually climbed onto Peter’s lap as you hungrily kissed him, and you feel a patch of wetness drip onto your underwear as your tongues fight for dominance. Peter is so enticed on kissing you that he fails to notice one of your hands firmly grasping his cock through his pants. The sudden touch causes Peter to ripple out a low groan, and you smile into the kiss, content that you were able to make Peter wither from just a single touch. 

You repeat the same noise at a higher pitch as Peter roughly rubs your ass, disconnecting his lips before attacking your neck. You throw your head back in utter bliss, granting Peter more access, and you feel a bruise form as Peter continues to suck on a particular spot. While one hand is stroking Peter’s enormous cock, the other hand snakes its way under his shirt; another moan comes out of Peter’s mouth, and you loved hearing it. 

In a blink of an eye, Peter’s shirt is on the ground, and yours follows as well. You push him down against the bed, and you seductively crawl towards him until you’re straddling his waist. 

Your lips reconnect once more, and Peter’s fingers manage to unclasp your bra, which he recklessly tosses to the ground. “Peter,” you moaned in delight as his hands raked over your exposed chest, firmly gripping your breasts. Just as Peter is about to place his lips on your sensitive bud, a loud banging on the door prevents him from doing so. You let out a gasp, frightened at the sound, but then you hear the voice yell. 

“Open up, Parker!” Daniel angrily announced, continuing to slam his fist on the door. “I know Y/N is in there! We need to talk.” You and Peter stare at each other, not knowing what to do, but then you vividly remembered Daniel’s words. I promise you this, he can’t show you a good time like how I can. A smirk grows on your face as you think of an elaborate and mischievous plan. Oh, you were going to prove him wrong. As Daniel kept screaming, demanding you to come out of the room, Peter became exasperated, completely annoyed that Daniel was ruining your intimate moment. Finally, Peter lets out an irritated groan, but just as he’s about to move you to the side so he can answer the door, you place your hands on his chest. 

“Don’t move, I have an idea,” you say with a sly smug, but before Peter can ask you what your plan was, you let out a loud, compelling, and pornographic moan.

“Oh, God! Peter!” you yelled in pure ecstasy, grabbing your breasts in the process to keep you riled up. “Don’t stop! Keep going, baby.” The banging immediately stops, and you mentally give yourself a pat on the back, knowing that on the other side of the door, Daniel was extremely jealous, embarrassed, and frustrated. Peter’s eyes widen in shock at your reaction, but he’s ultimately aroused once more, loving how you wanted Daniel to know that he was fulfilling your sexual desires. 

Peter disregards Daniel’s presence and attaches his lips on your nipple, causing you to loudly sigh in bliss as Peter sucks on it. The fake moans you were forming were now real, and you held Peter’s head in your chest as his finger roughly rubbed the other nipple. 

“Fuck-” you loudly whined, unintentionally rubbing yourself on Peter’s crotch. A hefty groan comes out of Peter, and he detaches his lips from your breasts, easily lifting you up with one hand while the other begins to undo his pants. You mirror his actions, doing the same to your pants, tossing your bottoms and underwear to the floor. Peter wiggled out of his pants and boxers, his cocks twitching and springing up as your exposed core slowly rubbed itself on his shaft. You can already see the pre-cum forming at the head, and you eagerly lick your lips, wanting to wrap your mouth around his member. 

Suddenly, Peter grabs you by the waist and flips you over so that he’s on top. As you expect him to unleash all of his strength onto you, Peter delicately kisses you, as if he’s afraid he’ll break you. While his touches send shivers down your spine, melting your heart, you’re impatient, wanting more. You softly push him away, and for a moment, Peter thinks he’s done something wrong. 

“What is it? Did I do something wrong?” Peter anxiously asked, scanning your face to see if he could detect what was bothering you. You bit your lip in anticipation, petrified that if you said what was on your mind, it would ruin the mood. A million reasons swirled around his mind and he feared that he’s gone too far; he assumed you didn’t feel comfortable anymore to continue your sexual activities. What Peter failed to realize was that you didn’t regret anything. “Tell me, baby,” Peter reassured you, placing light kisses on your face and neck. You cave into his touch, and you feel your muscles relax.  

“I want you,” you started off, raking your fingers across his chest. “But, I need rough sex, Peter,” you needily whimpered, biting your lip in the process, causing Peter to lean back, his eyes widening. “Please, fuck me as hard as you can. I want Daniel to know how good you’re fucking me.”

You intently stare at Peter’s face, scared that he was going to say no, but then you notice his pupils dilate, his eyes darkening as he listened to your words. The mere mention of Daniel’s name caused Peter to shake from rage, but then something switched inside of Peter, and a huge grin spread across his face. 

“Damn Y/N,” Peter replies, biting his lower lip. A small moan escapes Peter’s mouth as he realizes what you’re asking of him, and he absolutely loves it; Peter feels his cock twitch from excitement as he repeated your words over and over again in his mind, and it drove him insane. Peter couldn’t believe it; here he was, thinking you were going to be an innocent girl, but oh no - he was wrong, and boy did he love it. Peter bit his lip in hunger, his eyes taking in your body once more. The thought of mercilessly pounding into you without anything stopping him caused more pre-cum to leak out of his cock, and Peter was more than prepared to grant you what so deeply desired.

“As you wish, darling.” Peter peppered kisses against the nape of your neck and before you know it, Peter firmly grabs you by the neck. You let out a soft gasp at his sudden change of behavior, but then a whimper escapes out of you as Peter crashes his lips onto yours, and you allow him to take full control. 

“Fuck Peter.” You moan as you buck your hips up, needing him to be inside of you. You were becoming impatient, but Peter darkly chuckled as he brought his face close to yours.

“Oh no baby,” he scolds, a smirk forming on his face. “I’ll be inside you when I want to. You understand?” You feel as if you’re about to cry out in pain and pleasure, but you’re willing to do anything for Peter. You frantically nod your head, hoping it will satisfy Peter. 

Peter’s grip got tighter, unhappy that you didn’t verbally respond. “You better speak right now or I swear, I’ll tease you until you’re a crying mess.” 

“Yes, Peter. I understand, baby,” you affirmed as Peter hummed in satisfaction. Peter slowly released the tight grip he had before rummaging through the nightstand. Peter pulls out a condom but before you even have time to ask him where he got it, he tears it open with his mouth and puts on the safety. Without any warning or hesitation, Peter roughly turns you around, your chest pressed down against the bed. You immediately understand what he wants, and you quickly get on all fours, laying your head on the pillow and perking your ass up, giving Peter a complete view of your core. Peter groans at the sight as you flirtatiously wiggle your bare ass in front of him, and he leans back to admire the view for a short moment. 

“Look at you,” he seductively whispered, causing you to become even more aroused as his words drip out of his mouth like sweet honey. “All ready for me, such a good girl.” 

Suddenly, Peter slams into you, and you let out the loudest noise you’ve ever made, finally satisfied that he was inside you. However, Peter doesn’t move, allowing you to adjust to his large size, but you cry out in frustration, wanting him to pound into you mercilessly. You attempt to move, but Peter roughly grabs your hips, refraining you. Peter lets out a heavy exhalation, absolutely melting into you as he felt your pretty folds swallow him up. It was majestic. 

“Shit,” Peter mutters, “You’re so tight, Y/N.” Peter slowly begins to move, but in an instant, his pace starts to accelerate. Peter pounds into your cunt; it was ruthless, exhilarating, and animalistic, and you rolled your eyes in utter pleasure, your mouth hanging open.

You’re a writhing mess, spelling out incoherent words as Peter tightly held onto your waist and slammed into you. You knew there was going to be bruises due to his death grip, but the feeling of his cock sliding in and out of you made you totally forget. The slight pain was gone as pleasure overstimulated your body, and you arched your back in response, repeating Peter’s name. You clamped onto the sheets for dear life, your head laying on the pillows, your sounds being muffled. The sound of skin slapping echoed around the room, and Peter gasps and curses, becoming a panting mess as he doesn’t intend on stopping anytime soon.

Peter grabs a handful of your hair, forcing your head off the pillow, and your moans become louder. “That’s right,” Peter reassured, releasing your hair and moving his hand towards your neck. “Scream for me, baby. Let him know who’s fucking you this good.”

“Ah, Peter! Faster, please! Ohh fuck Peter, shit!“ you scream, holding onto his arm for support. 

“Can Daniel fuck you like this?” Peter asked, digging his knees deeper into the bed and moving his hips at a faster rate. Peter’s cock was stretching you out, and you were loving every minute of it. 

“No! Peter -Shit!- only you can! Only you can make me feel like this.” You cry out in pleasure, your hair sticking to your sweaty back and chest. Peter groans in satisfaction, your words encouraging him to move faster.

“Exactly, you’re fucking mine - all mine.” Your walls contract around him at his words, and Peter feels a familiar feeling growing in the pit of his stomach. He detaches himself from you, pulling out for a brief moment before forcing you to lay on your back. Peter’s hand gingerly returns to your waist, savoring this moment. Both of you heavily pant as you stare into each other’s eyes, and Peter leans in, passionately kissing you.

“Shit Peter!” you squeal in shock as you feel his cock enter you without hesitation, your nails clutching onto his contracting muscles. 

“Whose pussy is this?” Peter grunted, fully slamming his cock into your pussy. A high pitch scream comes out of your mouth but you’re unable to form coherent words, completely discombobulated. Peter’s cock perfectly fills you up, and you desperately stare into his eyes, digging your sharp nails in his back. “I said,” Peter angrily repeated, tightly squeezing your neck. “Whose pussy is this?” 

“Yours,” you mewl as you began to feel a knot form in your stomach. 

“That’s right, baby,” Peter asserted, sweat trickling down his face, chest, and back. You closed your eyes, completely aroused by Peter’s rough side, and Peter couldn’t help but trace over your body. He admired the way your breasts bounced as he pounded into you, the way your face contorted in total ecstasy, and the way your hair was a mess - a mess that he made from fucking you so good. 

“I’m so close, baby -Fuck I’m s-so close-“ You feel the knot get stronger. Peter continues to thrust into you, watching as your eyes roll to the back of your head. Peter’s fingers find its way to your clit, rapidly rubbing circles, and you let out a whine. 

“Come for me, darling. Come all over my cock,” Peter coaxed you, his words sending you over the edge. Your hands grip onto his arms for dear life as you let out a throat-ripping moan, your body shaking in the process. Peter comes right after you, his hands resting beside your head, firmly clutching onto the sheets as he, too, let out a groan. Peter’s body collapses onto yours, and your fingers find its way to the curls at the back of his head, burying themselves in his smooth hair. For a while, the room goes silent, and all you can hear are the heavy pants coming out of your mouths. Peter is still inside you, but you don’t mind at all. Peter’s body slowly rises and falls as he comes down from his high, and his hands cradle your face; Peter leaves a sloppy yet passionate kiss, and once again, you melt into his arms. 

You whimper as you feel Peter’s member pull out, and you watch as Peter wobbly stands up to throw away the condom. You intently stare at his chest as he walks back to you, and you notice the fresh scratch marks you left. You feel your cheeks turn red, but Peter gives you a soft smile, mentally telling you that it was fine. Finally, Peter gets back into bed and pulls the covers over your bodies. Your turn to lay on his side, lovingly gazing into his eyes. 

“Wow,” was all you managed to say, “That was fucking amazing.” Peter lets out a chuckle, becoming flustered as you continued to praise him. 

“Do you think Daniel heard?” you wondered, softly rubbing Peter’s chest. 

“I think the whole floor heard,” Peter truthfully responded, scratching the back of his head. You lightly laugh at his comment, your eyes glistening with joy, before pressing a tender kiss on Peter’s lips. Good, you thought to yourself, now everyone knows how great Peter is at sex. 

“Are you okay?” Peter asked. “Did I hurt you?” Your heart melted in your chest as you realized how worried Peter was. You shook your head, easing him. “I’m fine, Peter.” However, the dryness of your throat made it hard for you to speak, and Peter knew that you needed something to drink. 

“Let’s get you something to drink, there’s a vending machine right out the door,” Peter offered, to which you accepted. You were desperately craving water, but you also fancied a small snack to munch on. Peter and you got out of bed -despite how sore your bodies were - and you instinctively bent down and grabbed your underwear and Peter’s shirt. Peter felt an enormous grin grow on his face as he watched you, and you returned the smile when you felt his eyes on you. 

You walked towards the door with nothing but his shirt and underwear whereas Peter was only wearing his boxer shorts; just as you opened the door and stepped out of the room, with Peter right behind you, your eyes landed on Daniel, who, as well, opened your hotel door the exact moment you did. Daniel tightly clutched his book bag, but as he turned around to head down the hallway, his eyes found yours. He deeply stared, noticing how your makeup was smeared, your hair was tangled, and Peter’s chest was covered with scratches and bruises. 

You broke eye-contact, your face expressionless, as you turned to the left, heading towards the vending machine that was feet away from where you stood. 

Peter bitterly glared down Daniel, but then Peter mirrored your movements, leaning against the machine. Peter took notice of how Daniel was glued to the floor, and Peter flared his nostrils, disliking how Daniel continued to gawk at you. 

Yet, Peter didn’t mind that you were only wearing his t-shirt in the middle of the hallway. He knew Daniel had a perfect view of your ass, which was barely covered by the thin fabric, but Peter didn’t care because he knew that the moment you entered his hotel room, he was going to relentlessly fuck you again until you couldn’t walk anymore. As you were still deciding what snack to choose from, Peter slightly turned his head to the side, a smug expression cemented on his face as he watched Daniel awkwardly stand in front of your door. Daniel’s face was bright red, most likely due to his rage of knowing what you and Peter were doing, but Peter remained unbothered, rejoicing that he was able to rile up Daniel with so much ease. 

Peter sent a coy wink to Daniel as he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you into his arms and placing sloppy kisses on your exposed neck while still holding eye-contact with Daniel. You leaned your head back, exposing more skin for Peter, knowing fully well of what he was trying to do. However, you didn’t object at all. A pool of your wetness started to drip onto your underwear, and you softly let out a discreet moan as Peter’s hand tightly clutched your ass. You loved how Peter was gloating to Daniel, reveling in the fact that you were Peter’s and only his. Your lips curved upwards as you heard Daniel let out a huff of frustration, mumbling incoherent words as he stormed down the hallway.  

Once Daniel was gone, you wrapped your arms around Peter’s neck, your fingers delicately playing with the strands of his hair as a giggle escaped from your lips. You placed a soft kiss on his lips before pulling away.

“You’re such an ass,” you joked, shaking your head as you divert your attention back to the vending machine. Peter shrugged his shoulders, not caring that Daniel was probably going to cry in his room, knowing you slipped away from his fingers. “Asshole deserves it,” Peter blankly declared. You bit your lip in frustration, your eyes glancing at the snacks before Peter rested his head on your shoulder, wrapping his arms around your waist once again.

“C’mon baby,” Peter seductively whispered. His hands discreetly snuck underneath your shirt and his fingers started to play your nipples, slowing pitching them in the process. You let out a soft gasp, shocked that Peter had the courage to do this in the hallway, but then you felt yourself become aroused, ready to start round two. “We still have a few hours before everyone comes back,” Peter murmured, biting your earlobe in the process.

You let out a big sigh. “Screw it,” you said, quickly forgetting about the snack and grabbing Peter’s hand. Peter bit his lip, a devious smirk forming on his lips as you dragged him back to the room, eager to continue your previous activity. 

Despite Peter’s plan not going accordingly, he was’t complaining. To say the least, Peter was fully satisfied, especially after the several rounds he had with you. 

[moonlightchildz]

I want you; Jungkook

writer: moonlightchildz

date: 10/06/19

summary: since the moment you laid eyes on him, you knew that Jeon Jungkook was going to be the one to take away your virginity.

pairings: jungkook x reader

warnings: SMUT (there’s so much jungkook content), drug usage (weed), alcohol substance, etc.

Word count: 13k

“If you keep staring at him, you’re gonna end up drooling at this point.”

You tentatively raised your index and middle finger up to your lips out of reflex, and as your friend snickered to herself you flipped her off. There was no secret that the guy who had been recently added into your little group of friends had definitely caught your eye. From the moment he was introduced, you were hooked, lined, and had definitely sunk. 

“I want you to meet the glue of the group,” you overhead Jimin say to someone. You weren’t sure who he was referring to since you were too busy packing up his shit into his moving boxes. That was supposed to be his job, but he received a phone call and immediately dipped, leaving you to continue all the work by yourself. Typical Park Jimin.

“And there she is in all her glory.”

You turned around, ready to yell at him when the man beside him caught your attention. Your words got caught in your throat at the sight of him cause holy fuck. Who was this beauty in front of you? And why were you just meeting him when you looked as if you had crawled out of Oscar’s trash can from Elmo’s Street?

 “I can’t even talk to him, much less go up to him and talk to him about cars because I literally have no clue what a car even is at this rate,” you exaggerated as you threw your hands in the air in frustration. Your best friend just chuckled quietly to herself, her light eyes taking in the boy—no, excuse you—the man who had keenly grasped your attention. He was cute for sure, hot even. Truth be told, you were a hard catch. Guys threw themselves at you left and right, but you were so damn shy to ever respond back to their advances—at least, that’s what your best friend thought.

“So, are you gonna talk to him?”

“Listen, if I ever manage to talk to him, and if the gods from above help me get laid, then I’ll become the filthiest slut you want me to be.”

“You haven’t even had sex yet you talk like a slut.” She retorted, rolling her eyes at you.

“Leave my virgin ass alone.”

“So, you’re not gonna go talk to Jeongguk?” She kept pestering you and you just swatted her hand away to keep her from bothering you.

You sighed in discontent and then slowly shook your head to respond to her question. “No, he literally looks like a Greek god, and just seeing his face makes me drool. Also, whenever he stands so close to me I go into shut down mode and turn mute.”

“Well, that’s a shame.” A new voice spoke up behind the both of you. You felt your heart drop at the sound of the so familiar voice. In fact, you’ve dreamt of it and as you felt mortification quickly engulf your body from head to toe, you dared not to turn around since the pale look your best friend was spotting right now was a dead giveaway to who it was.

You slowly turned around and there he was in all his presence.

If humiliation was a color, you would be covered from head to toe since Jeon Jungkook was standing in front of you. He was watching you lose your shit on the inside and you felt like crawling inside the nearest trash can right about now.

“I’m Jeongguk by the way.” He flashed you an innocent, and a rather beautiful smile that made your cheeks warm up instantly.

“I know,” You awkwardly said, a small smile beginning to linger on your lips. God sure decided to take his time creating this fine ass man. Everything about him screamed untouchable and just drool worthy. Even in just a fitted black t-shirt and ripped jeans, he was absolutely delicious. His forearm was tattooed with Korean characters, and it had a small blue, water colored Smeraldo flower lacing around them so prettily. It was intricate, and it suited his bicep really well.  

“All this time, I thought you hated me.” He shook his head in disbelief and what seemed like mere amusement. Your eyes widened at that thought.

“I—What?” you spluttered out in disbelief.

“Yeah, I really thought you didn’t fuck with me since you never really talked to me, or even bothered.”

“Yeah no,” you shook your head. “I’m just really shy.” With guys who have huge dicks, and look like you.

As he ran a hand through his hair, your eyes lingered on the rings that adorned his pretty and veiny hands. A few more artistic tattoos graced his skin, making him look a piece of art himself.  How could he ever think that you could ever hate him?

Wow, could you choke me until oblivion with those hands?

“I was waiting for you to at least say hi since everyone adores you, you know? I wanted to see what the hype was and now I understand.” He continued casually and your heart almost gave out on you. “Though I appreciate you calling me, eh, what was it? A Greek god? Thank you, by the way.”

“Sorry,” you mumbled out, mortified at being caught since a cute guy was talking to you. “I’m Y/N by the way.”

“I know.” He smiled, and right then, you wanted to suck his dick. “And why are you sorry? It’s not an often occurrence I have to meet a pretty girl like you, much less be shy about it.”

And in that moment, you knew you were bound to be fucked.

                                                    *********

 Jungkook stood by the entrance of the living room. He had already downed shots thanks to his new group of friends that had encouraged him to drink them. He was feeling a bit buzzed, and the excitement coursing through his system wasn’t really helping the poor guy.

“C’mon Jeon, as the new member of the group it’s required for you to be initiated.” Taehyung began, getting the rest of the six morons into it now. Jimin began to holler, agreeing with him since of course he would. Jimin would grab the stars for Kim Taehyung if he could.

“Shouldn’t initiation be before I get added into the group?” Jeongguk retorted, his eyes too busy looking for a certain someone. Every time the door would swing open, his eyes landed on whoever entered, but each time he was disappointed since it wasn’t who he was anticipated to see.

“Okay, you have a point,” Taehyung agreed, but there was a smirk already making its way on his lips so he knew this subject wasn’t over yet. “But you’re still the rookie and each member has gone through this so get going.”

He shoved the bottle of Fireball towards him, a shot of glass sliding his way before he could protest. Guess getting shitfaced was part of today’s agenda, too. Jeongguk simply rolled his eyes and allowed Taehyung to pour him a shot since he might as well enjoy the night drunk if the person he was waiting for wasn’t even going to show up as he was promised.

“Chug, chug, chug!”

Jeongguk just laughed as he watched Taehyung pour liquor into Jimin’s eager lips.

He was buzzed by the time you arrived and he hadn’t seen you walk into the kitchen until he turned around with a bottle in one hand and a blunt in the other.

“Jungkook,” you greeted him with a huge, and easy going smile. He almost dropped the blunt and bottle right there. You were showing so much skin to his surprise. His doe eyes struggled in not landing on your ass, your thighs, and hips, but the ripped shorts you were wearing was such a tease move on your part. The shirt barely covered your stomach and your hair seemed so pretty in his eyes.

“Y/N,” he returned, mimicking your smile automatically. “I’m surprised to see you here.” He really was, but he felt giddy now. He felt the after effects of the fireball kick in instantly by just looking at you.

“Oh, well I was dragged out by my dumb friends.” You told him, your hand slowly tucking your strands behind your ear as you looked at everywhere but him. He could tell you were nervous, and he wanted to scream since he wanted to get to know you, to get you to tell him everything about your goals and dreams, and to even hear you animatedly talk about your weird obsession over this kpop group called BT21.

“Ah, I see.”

His eyes lingered on your figure, knuckles turning white from gripping his glass. For fucks sakes, you were too fucking hot, and adorable for your own good.

“Are you gonna drink and smoke that by yourself?” you suddenly asked him, and he immediately shook his head, a sly grin making its way on his handsome face.

“Well, since you’re asking you wanna join me?”

There was a beat of silence followed by his abrupt question and he wanted to cry. You probably didn’t even drink, or much less smoke so he felt stupid in that moment, but you surprised him. With such ease, you just grabbed the blunt from his hand, twirling it around with your index and forefinger so carelessly. With your other hand, you motioned him closer and like a dog in a leash, he was already there, inhaling your addicting scent of flowers, and lavender laundry detergent.

“I say we smoke this later.” Your hot breath fanned his neck, making him swallow thickly at the sensation of having you so damn near him. “But,” you shyly graced your lips against his cheek as you turned to face him instead. “I think we deserve to enjoy this bottle first, no?”

His hand was already in yours, barely managing to nod along since your lips were inches away from his and it was just torture at this rate. He felt his fingers twitch as he softly answered, “Okay.”

It was as if you melted the tough exterior away from him each time he glanced into your eyes. He let you lead him through Seokjin and Namjoon’s mansion without batting an eye. It was crazy how comfortably you were being surrounded by six men, granted they were all gay for each other, but they drove him insane the majority of time. He wondered how you had so much patience overall.

You led him towards the mini patio upstairs.

It felt so ridiculous walking up so many stairs to just get to the designated floor where you, and the rest of the other four morons usually stayed the weekends when Namjoon and Seokjin often threw these grandiose parties. The top two floors were always off limits for everyone, everyone except Jimin, Taehyung, Hoseok, Yoongi, and you. The top floor was strictly only for Namjoon and Seokjin and that was a rule everyone obeyed simply because no one wanted to deal with Kim Seokjin’s wrath.

“I’m guessing everyone in the group has their own rooms?” Jeongguk prompted, his curious eyes taking every single detail in with awe. “Seokjin and Joon gave me the one across the hall.” He pointed to the door that was down the hall from your room.

“Yeah,” you nervously began, your fingers gripping the door knob to your room. With a short breath, you manage to unlock your room and lead him into your room. “Um, when I got into the group they gave me this room and told me to go crazy with it.”

As ridiculous as that sounds, it’s accurate. All six morons you dearly loved and adored lived here with them and it was amazing how well they all got along, even when they were at each other’s throats. But now it seemed as if this house was going to be filled in by someone special really soon. You glanced over at Jeongguk, and smiled.

One thing you quickly took notice of Jeon Jungkook was that every time you smiled at him, he always responded the same way: his eyes would softly crinkle, nose slightly scrunched up, and that beautiful smile of his always made butterflies in your stomach roam free. The nerves that were overflowing your body soon turned into a buzz, a buzz that you happily welcomed with opened arms.

“Come,” you beckoned him, nails waving him into the balcony. He watched as you carelessly slipped off your shoes and ran a hand through your hair while you occupied yourself into accommodating something that was out of his eyesight.

Jeongguk took in a deep breath, and slowly approached your moving silhouette. There was a love seat placed against the brick wall that faced Namjoon’s backyard and on the other side of the balcony was a hammock with cushions and even a blanket. A sparkling waterfall led into their pool that seemed to be occupied by people there and even though the atmosphere seemed so chaotic, here alone together it felt at peace in that moment. He continued taking in everything that was you, and right there on his left side there along with a mini table that held a tray with two flavored kind of Swishers, was a jar that was filled halfway with weed.

You were literally a god send angel in his eyes.

“Take a seat,” your soft voice levitated his heart.

He easily complied and took a seat, eyes shamelessly landing on that sweet ass of yours while you were facing him away. You carelessly looked down at the mess going on downstairs, a grin already on your pretty face while you securely hugged the bottle to your chest. His doe eyes roamed the shape of your hips, your soft curves, and the pretty expressions you made while taking a swig from the bottle he had earlier. With screwed eyes, you coughed a bit and started walking towards where he was seated at.

“So tell me about yourself,” he began, taking you in again as if hadn’t blatantly stared at your ass this whole entire time. “We’ve known each other for a few weeks now, but I don’t really know much about you besides that you’re everyone’s favorite, and therapist apparently?”

“Yeah, okay,” you screwed your eyes shut as the alcohol slowly went down your throat. “Um, well, where do I begin? Gee, uh, I’m the only daughter of three kids, so I have overprotective brothers up my ass all the time. My parents have been together for more than 23 years, but they’re not married. My favorite color depends on my mood, and I love to eat a lot, like a lot Jeongguk.” You emphasized the last thing so seriously that it made him laugh a little.

He was taking in everything you said, his brain writing down notes since you were finally talking to him.

“Uhh, I love to draw but I can like only draw like stick people,” you continued, eyes bright and your smile endless. “And, I love to listen to music a lot. If I’m not eating, or trying to get my life together, then I’m either smoking, sleeping, or studying. As for the whole therapist thing, well yeah. That’s how we met. We all tended to go to the same therapist, and I would talk to them individually while we waited to be attended. I didn’t realize these six weird dudes were friends because I never saw them together until Jimin, Hobi, and Jinnie decided to simultaneously invite me to a cookout. I spent days trying to compromise with the three of them to see if I could hang out with two of them another day. It was so fucking stressful, but I ended up going with Jin. And imagine the surprise I got when I saw that all of them knew each other and conveniently tried inviting me to the same event. It was so chaotic, Jeonngguk.”

Jeongguk nodded, following along to every word you said and he felt at ease just watching you animatedly talk to him. You had these adorable mannerisms that made him smile like a love sick idiot and he wasn’t even aware of it in the moment. He just felt the need to be closer to you, but he hadn’t come to the conclusion as to how much and why.  

“What about you?” You suddenly prompted him, handing him the bottle of liquor back. Your fingers gently graced his as you passed him the bottle and that movement alone made you jittery.

His dark eyes were trained on you as he slowly poured down liquor between his pinkish lips. That movement alone made his bicep bulge beneath the t-shirt he was wearing and you swallowed thickly.

Forgive me father for I will sin.

“I’m the second youngest out of my siblings,” he began roughly, snapping you out of your filthy imagination. “And my parents are married. I have a younger sister who drives me fucking nuts and we just moved here a month ago actually, so I really don’t know how I lucked out when meeting you and everyone else.”

You raised an eyebrow at that, “Really? You moved here a month ago and look at you know. Crashing in Namjoon and Seokjin’s mansion in less than a few weeks of meeting them.”

“Honestly, I’m as surprised as you are.”

“Not really,” you shook your head, eyeing him from head to toe quite shamelessly. By now the alcohol had gotten to your head and you seemed at ease with him. You were propped up against the palm of your hand as you practically talked without thinking now. “I can see why they love you, Jeongguk. You’re a sweetheart that everyone adores.”

His knee was pressed up against your thigh, hand inches away from yours. “Is that so?” He hummed out, an appreciative tone underlying in his voice.

“Yeah,” you reassured wholeheartedly without even hesitating. “You’ve become such an important part of the group in just a couple of weeks and that’s saying something. The guys are so picky and overprotective of each other, and you just fit in so well. It feels as if the group is complete now with you in it. Everyone from Jimin, to Tae, to Jin, to Namjoon, to Yoongi, and to Hobi has a special place, and you Jeon just happened to be the last puzzle piece to the set.”

“I can see why they love you,” he smiled fondly and your heart lurched against your chest. He was so beautiful. “You’re the glue of this big family.”

In return, you just smiled wider, carelessly even, but to Jeongguk seeing that smile meant everything.

There was a blur in time. Fingers softly and delicately traced skin, laughter echoed in the dim moonlight, and secrets were being whispered out in the open air. There was a point where you were leaning against him, his arm dangling around your shoulders as you laughed along to a story he was telling you about him and how he found Yoongi hiding in Hoseok’s closet after hanging out with him for hours. It felt so brief, so calming, and so natural. It was effortless.

“Can I ask you a weird question?”

You glanced up at him, and he seemed to be closer than you had imagine since his lips were just a few inches away from yours.

“Yeah,” you quietly said, finding it hard to concentrate. There was an urge inside of you to just lean in and close the gap, but something was holding you back. Was it maybe that he was more experienced than you in every way? For fuck’s sakes, you were a virgin without any clue of how flirting, or a relationship worked. You faltered, and he noticed.

“Wanna dance?” He opted out with upon seeing your reluctance.

“I don’t know how to,” you admitted to him, giggling in the end. Yep, you were definitely still a little buzzed, but it wasn’t due to the alcohol anymore. You could hardly maintain eye contact with him and here you were touching his biceps, and dragging your silver nails down his stomach so carelessly, unaware of the effect you had on him. Jeongguk had gotten under your skin so quickly, it left you so surprised and so affected by him. You knew that by the end of tonight, his name, his eyes, his endearing smile, and the will to ride the living fuck out of him was going to haunt you until you saw him again.

“I’ll teach you.”

He wasn’t pulling away yet and truth be told you didn’t want him to. Your smile was there as usual as you nodded and your fingers were already wrapping around the shot of vodka to down in your system. You were ready to down it all, but halfway through Jeongguk ripped away the shot of glass, letting some liquor spill on your lips.

With widened eyes, you glanced up at him in time to see him finish the rest of the contents inside.

“There’s some um,” he quietly began, nearing you again. “You have some vodka on your lips.” There’s a moment of hesitation between the two of you as his fingers gently trace your bottom lip where the strong liquid was dripping down to your chin.

With his thumb, he softly wiped away the liquor. His thumb ever so slowly brushed over your bottom lip, his dark eyes seeming lost as you stood still, barely managing to breathe properly.

His touch rendered you speechless since it was so brief, and gentle. Butterflies were practically roaming free, fluttering your heart awake at the simple, lingering effect of his touch.

“I expected you to swoon in and kiss me,” you suddenly blurted out without thinking. The funny thing was that you didn’t feel embarrassment, or any nerve wrecking feeling like you normally did when around him since by now you were sure that motherfucker had something for you as well.  

His eyes widened at your bluntness and you watched in amusement how his mouth repeatedly opened and closed like a fish without water. He sat up suddenly, beginning to lean in, almost closing the gap between you both, but you slowly pulled away from him, your fingers gently cupping his chin to detain him. A teasing smile edged on your lips, toying with him now before you got up from the couch, leaving him empty handed. You heard a loud, heavy sigh emit from behind you and you turned around to see him already standing, hair lightly blowing with the breeze.

“Come dance with me,” you extended your hand out to him, fingers continuously wiggling out for him. “I love this song.” You pouted as he just stood there with his pretty bunny smile and overall prince charming self. Jeongguk however seemed to be caught in a dilemma with himself. He didn’t know whether to follow your games, or to just stop them right there with one simple solution. He knew he could be getting head without even moving a finger from other bitches, but as you neared him, hands automatically wandering up his arms, those thoughts were instantly wiped away. There was a reason everyone gravitated towards you. With just a smile, you made his heart begin to bloom for the first time in a really long ass time.

His scent engulfed you completely as you glanced up at him, probably looking at him as if you want to ride him until morning arrives, and then let him destroy you until he no longer wants to. Fuck. You wanted to be embraced by his warmth, feel his lips against your skin, and you were craving for it so much. Being near him was becoming intolerable, and it wasn’t necessarily because you wanted to run away from him, no, quite the opposite actually. As each second, minute, hour passed by alongside with him you discovered just how badly you wanted him all.

His hands wondered down your sides immediately, pulling you flush against his body without even thinking. A small yelp emitted from your lips at the sudden pull and turn of your body. Jeongguk felt his heart leap from his ass as soon as you accommodated yourself, your back pressed fully against his chest as you moved your hips so sensually it was torturing him so much. He hadn’t known you would get so touchy, much less bold. It didn’t help that he was itching to just bend you over his couch and just fuck you until the only thing you could remember was his name.

He seemed thrown off when you rested your head against his shoulder, arms wrapping around his neck as you continued to sing along to the song that was playing in the background. You looked at ease, relaxed even. Is this how you were behind closed doors? An enigma? He hadn’t expect to feel this way. It was becoming too much now. He felt his dick harden underneath you, and you just kept on grinding your ass on him, a teasing grin on your lips.

“Fuck,” he cursed out, biting back the need to just do something to you at this point.  

“What is it?” you turned around to face him, arms still wrapped around his neck. You were humming along to a pop song, pushing yourself against him even more. Your fingers were delicately running on his broad shoulders, your other hand twirling his damp hair.

“You really don’t know?”

You sluggishly shook your head, whispering, “Don’t know what?”

You were too drunk, you’d probably wouldn’t remember if he did say anything anyway. “Nothing,” he decided instead. “I’ll let you figure that out on your own when you’re sober.”

“I could go for a smoke right now,” you suddenly said ignoring what he just said. With a slender finger, you picked at the blunt that was sitting right beside his ear. “Join me?”

He would do anything for you at this point. You placed the blunt between your lips, handing him the lighter. “Light it baby,” you instructed and he was so taken back by you. You were this shy little thing at first sight, but alone with him you were anything but that.

He slowly wavered the lighter side to side, eyes slowly taking you in. Your eyes were closed as you inhaled as much as you could. Smoke emitted from your lips as you fluttered your eyes open and there he was, inches away from you, just looking at you in what seemed wonderment. Jeongguk tried not to near you, tried not be lured into your schemes as he was warned by others, but you were his temptation. A temptation that was rendering him to his knees and it was all because of a woman. He hadn’t know he had unconsciously neared you until he felt the smoke blow right at him.

Seconds. He was seconds away from ripping away the blunt from you, and just kissing you right there and then, but he opted out to grabbing the blunt from your lips instead. He figured if you were going to toy with him, he’ll make you wait.

“So when did you start to sm—”

“Guk?”

He halted, smoke emitting from his lips as he turned towards you. Did you just called him Guk?

Slowly, he neared you, eyes darker than before. His forehead bumped against yours, smoke engulfing the both of you.

“Say it again,” he roughly demanded, his other hand firmly grabbing your chin. “Say it.”

You didn’t. No, instead you pressed your mouth against his and it was so much fucking better. He dropped the blunt to cradle the side of your face, his lips molding against yours softly. You were already swinging a leg over his thighs, getting settled on his lap. Your arms already wrapping around his neck, tongue tracing the underside of his lower lip, and he moaned out at the feeling. Your fingers quickly tugged at his hair, body falling backwards since you knew he would wrap his arms around you and follow your movements, and that’s exactly what he did. His strong arms bulged underneath you, and you were so drunk for his kisses. You felt euphoric, a humming sensation was taking over you, and it was him who was the cause of all of it.

“More,” you panted out against his lips, tugging harder. He was everywhere. His hands, his lips, his soft moans echoing in your heightened sensations.

“You’re drunk.” He hotly murmured out against your swollen lips. “You’re kissing me because you’re drunk as fuck right now.”

Upon hearing that, you ripped yourself away from him, confused since you were anything but oblivious whenever it came to him for fuck’s sakes. “No,” you firmly began, inching closer to him again. Your fingers gripped on to his shirt, curling in it as you bumped foreheads with him, eyes fervently taking him in. “I’m kissing you because I want you, you fucking idiot.”

Jeongguk simply grinned.

His hand wandered up your bare side, nails digging into your skin. “Really?” He seemed in utter trance, doe eyes taking every single little pretty feature of yours in.

“Yes, you fucker,” you finally told him, eyes meeting his firmly. “Like a lot, to the point where I turn mute, but one thing for sure is that I want you, a lot.”

Okay, he decided, this was it for him. His hands were already pulling you towards him, mouth fervently on yours before he could let you continue speaking. Your hands were tugging at his hair, lips sucking swiftly his tongue as these little whining pants came out from you against his swollen mouth, bodies becoming increasingly hotter.

“If you continue doing that, I’m going to fuck you right here, y/n.”

Well, please say less.

“But our first time together is not gonna be with me and you crossfaded,” he stubbornly refused, and you childishly pouted. You both sat there on the old couch, his arms still wrapped around you as you shamelessly leaned your forehead against his shoulder.  

“Can I at least take off your shirt?” you tried to resonate with him, a tiny grin lacing your lips.

He laughed against your mouth.

                                                    *********

The next day, you woke up with a smile slapped all over your face. The covers were all wrapped around your clothed body, hair matted and surprisingly your breath didn’t reek of death like you anticipated. It was late once you decided to crawl out of bed, but the rest of the household was still sound asleep since it was only ten in the morning. A smile lingered on your face once you walked out of your room and spotted Jeongguk’s room which was the one across from you. It was nerve wrecking to say that least. To have the Jeon Jungkook—the nationwide guy who was an incredibly, talented, and artistic tattooist— that everyone seemed to be thirsting had made you reassure him that you were into him last night.

His touch was magical in your enchanted heart. Seriously, one touch and you had been a goner. In your dreams, he was there, welcoming in you in his arms. Truth be told you wanted to be engulfed in his embrace, listen to him talk endlessly about his recent works, and feel his mouth on your skin. It was crazy really. Since the moment you had laid eyes on him, he had always been haunting you. And last night you had kissed him first, you had felt his hands roam your body, and you were giggling like crazy as he did so.

You had just changed into your spare clothes after a long, hot bath when you heard knocking on your door.

“Jiminie if it’s you, just barge in like you always do,” you called out from the patio, finding the cool October air refreshing against your skin. It was nearing towards five in the afternoon now, you figured the guys were already awake, but nervousness was a bitch. You hadn’t heard from Jeongguk and it was eating you alive. What if he realized he didn’t want the same as you? What if he realized what he wanted wasn’t you? You didn’t want to face reality yet so you just remained in your room, trying to find the will to go back to your home.

“It’s me.”

Those two words stunned you. It was him. Panic flared throughout your body as you realized what was bound to happen. You practically flew yourself all the way across the room you flung the door open because hell, might as well get this shit going.

“Did you mean it?” Was the first thing he blurted out of his mouth. He was leaning against your door frame, hair tousled and covering his eyes. The moment you saw him you could see his heart on his sleeve.

“Yes,” you quietly confessed to him, afraid to glance at him so you kept your gaze on everything but him. Jeongguk however didn’t find that reassuring. He caught you off guard with just two simple steps that he took closer to you. He was backing you into your room.

“I want you,” he softly professed to you, his voice firm.

“Okay,” you stood up straighter now since he was leaning closer to you now. Oh God. It’s really happening.

“So is it okay if I—” his hands were gentle as they framed your face carefully. There was a moment of hesitation that flickered in his heart, but as you glanced up at him with those eyes, with those eyes filled with anticipation and giddiness, he instantly just knew.

But you were already pulling him into the room, mouth on his as you breathed out, “Yeah.”

“Okay, good.” He kicked the door shut, hands still cradling your face while soft giggles emitted from your lips. He carefully neared you back to your barely made bed, ankles hitting the soft covers before you were thrown back against the heavenly cloud material.

Jeongguk was already there, hands roaming your body as he dipped down, his body resting against yours. “I was so nervous to come in here.” He admitted to you, and your eyes widened in bemusement. You were sure he could hear your heart beating erratically just by having him so close to you.

“Guk,” you began and he groaned out in pain. Panic began to creep up on you as you suddenly began to sit up, worried that you might have said something to piss him off already. “Guk, I—”

His mouth was on yours, distracting you completely. Every thought that seemed to be racing in your head flew out of your mind suddenly, your soaring heart completely taking over your senses now. He was kissing you like a deprived man, mouth messily missing yours before soaking your skin with his trailing, hot kisses that he left behind instead. You could feel your heart pounding against your chest at the sensations he was leaving in his wake. His fingers were tangled in your hair, keeping you angled to his will as his breath ghosted over your skin. Goosebumps arose along the way, and your mouth was slightly ajar, your mind blown away by this man’s touch. He clung on to you, lips marking every inch of your skin to his delight. And you relished on his touch since it was heavenly in your eyes, and heart.

“Guk,” a soft moan escaped your lips as his lips brushed your pulse, his dark gaze watching you completely surrender to him. You were at his mercy and you wouldn’t want it any other way.

“I have to stop before—” he was breathing heavily, his hands tightening around you. He bumped foreheads with you, his lips barely brushing yours, but it was enough to dizzy your heart.

“Okay,” you slowly nodded, still in trance. He was beginning to pull away and that woke you up so quickly. “But first, I—”

You winded your arms around his neck, pulling down towards you again as you kissed him again. There was a split second where you gasped and his tongue was already tracing the underside of your bottom lip, slowly sucking your swollen lip as his fingers dug on to your skin. Your shirt rose halfway, the skimpy shorts that you were wearing were no help whatsoever to him since his hands were finding your skin, bruising you. His fingers fisted your clothing as these little whimpers began to fill your room and Jeongguk knew he was bound to lose control once you spread your legs wider for him.

There was no hesitation as he flipped you over on top of him now. A surprised gasp emitted from your lips as Jeongguk helped you spread your thighs for him. He had sat up now and had his back pressed against your headboard.

“Put your arms around me, y/n.”

Your eyes met his as your hands slowly wandered up his strong arms, appreciating his figure as you scooted closer to his body. Your chest was pressed against his and you were so incredibly close to him. Noses brushed each other’s, and you were about to close the gap since his swollen lips seemed lonely, but he detained you with three simple words.

“I want you,” he breathed out against your mouth and you nodded, eagerly agreeing with him. “But I want to take you out first.” His fingers were tucking the strands of your hair behind your ear, his fervent gaze managing to make these butterflies roam in your fluorescent heart.

Jeon Jungkook was utterly, and immensely beautiful.

“That sounds much better,” you agreed, smiling ear to ear now. He wanted to take you out on a date!

“The guys are up and they want to see us so we could go out to eat. That was the whole excuse to get me to you and now I don’t want to leave.”

You bumped your forehead with his, laughing softly at his confession. Fuck. He was the one.

                                                          *********

“We’re gonna go to this underground concert…”

You muted them out and just sighed. Jeongguk was busy at work and you were stuck with the six other idiots who acted as more like your brothers than your best friends.

“Hey, look who it is! My favorite person out of the group.” Jimin chirpily announced, eyes turning into slits when you all blatantly ignored him. Taehyung was working night shift so therefore his boyfriend was pissy since he wasn’t getting any attention, or affection.

“Kookie!”

At that, you whipped your head towards the front and spotted him walking in. Instantly, you lowered your legs from Hoseok’s lap and unconsciously began to run your fingers through your hair, trying to somewhat tame it before Jeongguk pranced in here looking like a piece of art himself. Yoongi glanced over at you, eyes squinting while you hastily tried to fix your appearance out of the blue.

And in all his glory, he strode into the living room where everyone was sprawled across the lush, plushy carpet. A red and black checkered flannel molded all over his body, the sleeves pushed up to his forearms where a couple of bracelets adorned his tatted sleeve. He was sucking on a lollipop, lips all red from the candy. His damp hair was pushed back with a black bandana, and he just absolutely screamed sex, power, fuck me please, and everything in between.

“Jungkookie, I’m so glad you’re here since I fucking can’t stand them anymore—”

You were busying yourself in sitting on the lonely couch, trying to dissimulate that you were waiting for his dumbass to already show up. When in reality, you couldn’t wait to be wrapped in his arms, to be peppered with kisses, and to feel his hands roam all over your body as soft pants emitted from his lips. So you did what anybody else did, you ignored his presence no matter how hard it was.

But Jeongguk definitely surprised you once you saw he was walking directly towards you. Your bitch face soon molded into that smile you always gave to him since he leaned forward against the couch, trapping you in as his lips tentatively met yours. When he felt you kissing him back, he felt relieve wash over him.

“Yeah, well I don’t think he considers you as his Jiminie,” Hoseok teased him, eyeing the both of you.  

“You should have seen them last night,” Jin snorted. “He was practically sticking his tongue down her throat while they were making breakfast.”

To piss them off even more, you winded your arms around his neck, tongue tracing the underside of his bottom lip while he flipped you over the couch. A yelp escaped your lips, but nonetheless you settled between his legs, giggling away into his mouth while the others began to throw cushions at the both of you.

“Heteros,” Namjoon muttered out while shaking his head.

                                                       *********

 “You have no idea just how long I’ve been waiting for this,” Jeongguk mumbled it out against the crook of your neck. His head was placed against your chest, his fingers absentmindedly playing with strands of your hair. Both of you laid on your bed, there was a food stand next to the both of you with finished eaten meals that were prepared by the both of you. Music played softly in the background and Jeongguk surprised you by singing along to one of your favorite songs “Stand Still” by Sabrina Claudio.

“Long week at work?”

“Something like that.”

“Wanna talk about it?”

He shook his head, “No, I’m honestly okay now.”

“If you need to vent, then I’ll be here to listen, okay?” you tried reminding him since you hated seeing him down. It emotionally pained you seeing Jeongguk hurt, physically, or emotionally. 

“There’s times where I wish we could just stay like this forever,” he absentmindedly told you, his eyes fluttering to a deep slumber.

“I’m sure we can,” you wrapped your arms around him, inhaling his familiar scent of soft, laundry detergent, and love. “We can stay here as long as we can until you feel much better.”

But sadly the reality is that we have to go back to the real world at some point.

But as long as I have you in both worlds, I’ll be the happiest person on this planet.

                                                   *********

“Okay, but don’t be an idiot and actually don’t go through with it,” you told him, hand intertwined with his. “If you don’t, then you could seriously be missing out on a once in a lifetime thing!”

There was a convention that he was specifically invited as the guest of honor, but it was across the world. He would be leaving in a couple of days and you couldn’t lie to yourself and feel this pang in your heart. He would be leaving soon and wouldn’t return until a month later. A whole month without Jeon Jungkook.

He was quiet, doe eyes adoringly glancing over at you. “What would I do without you?’

“Hm, probably cry yourself to sleep to the thought of not having someone as perfect as me.”

“No wonder Jin loves you so much,” Jeongguk was already rolling his eyes before you even voiced out your sentence. During the past few months, the shy little thing he adored was replaced with a shithead who tended to either render him speechless with how much bullshit you managed to spew out, or how sweet and loving to death you would be with him. It was never the both with you. It was always one or the other.

“They warned me about you, you know?” He suddenly told you, catching you completely off guard. You came to a stop as you curiously awaited for him to continue. “They said I should keep away from you. That you weren’t going to be another “toy” of mine, and they were right. You’re so much more.”

“Guk,” you began, beginning to get teary eyed. This conversation should not be held in public, and much less after finding out that he was going to be leaving soon. He shook his head, his bunny smile beginning to appear now. He was already tugging you closer to him, hands framing your face gently.

“You mean so much to me, you know?” He confessed to you, and you were already nearing him. You were ready to tell him these three little words because you always acted on impulse whenever you were around him. Your heart always rationalized for you whenever it just came to him.

“And I don’t want you to lose interest when I leav—”

A scoff ripped out of your chest, immediately halting him halfway. There was no way in hell you would ever lose interest. For fuck’s sakes you had been practically in love with this dude ever since the first time he kissed you that night on your balcony.

“Jeongguk, don’t you dare finish that sentence.” You fumed out, actually pissed at him for deliberately thinking that. You stepped away from his hold. It was known that you two weren’t exactly exclusive, but there was no other man that could ever take a hold of your heart like Jeongguk had. His name had been imprinted in your heart and you were so fucked upon realizing this.

“I want you to know that while I’m away, I don’t want to—” he swallowed thickly, his hand reaching out towards you again. “I don’t want to see you with anyone else.” He practically gritted it out, momentarily looking away from you.

“Why would I ever do that?” you softly questioned him, honestly perplexed. Did he not see how utterly happy he made you? Was it not so fucking obvious?

“We’re not technically together, but I—”

Say it. You yearned to hear him say it. Unconsciously, you had neared him. You hadn’t realized you were just a few feet away, but there was this need for you to be close to him.

“I want to be with you. I’ve been wanting to be with you since the moment the guys introduced me to you, and you’re angry at me now, and I don’t know why, but y/n…I don’t want to leave this goddamn country without calling you mine.”

There it is.

Finally.

“Just fucking ask me, and I will be all yours.” You angrily blurted out without meaning to, but fuck dude. You would give this man the world if you could, just like you knew he would for you.

He seemed genuinely in shock. His doe eyes widened, mouth slightly agape before stammering out, “A-Are you serious right now?”

An exasperated sigh escaped your lips.

He was rambling now. “If I ask you right now to be my girlfriend, then will you—”

You were lunging at him, hands cupping his face as you shut him up with your mouth instead. This kiss was different. It was bruising, teeth clashed against each other, and Jeongguk had his arms winding around your waist as your legs began to wrap over his hips. There was cat calling from behind you, and you practically ripped yourself away from him.

“Okay, we’re in public,” you laughed against his mouth, slowly pulling away from him to continue what you were going to say. “But yes you idiot, I’ll be more than fucking happy to be your girlfriend. God damn it, it took you forever.”

“It’s been so fucking hard to keep my hands to myself, and at first I was okay, but now that you’re officially my girlfriend I’m dying to touch you.” He rasped out, his touch beginning to dizzy you once again. “I’ve been finding it so fucking hard…but then you look at me like that.”

You tilted your head, mouth slightly parting as you feigned innocence. “Like what?”

Except Jeongguk was always good in reading people and he already knew your true colors. Behind that little façade of innocence, there was something darker, and albeit sexy even. All he needed was to unleash it now. “Like you want to fuck the living brains out of me.” He was blunt and straightforward and you certainly didn’t mind it.

To his surprise though, you flushed. Your cheeks had begun to bloom in a rosy endearing pink, and it was quite cute honestly. “I guess I can’t quite mask my feelings, eh?” you rhetorically wondered out loud, a small smile laced on your pinkish lips.

The both of you walked into the alleyway of his apartment complex. There were a couple of steps before you actually reached his building, but by now you both stood in silence just looking at each other. You felt yourself growing shyer and a little bit vulnerable. In your defense though, who wouldn’t? Your boyfriend just told you he wanted you, and has been dying to touch you for as long as you had.

“If I kissed you right now,” he lowly began, slowly stepping towards you. You immediately whipped your head to the side to face him, looking surprised as ever. “Would you stop me?” He lowly asked you, eyes dark as ever.

God, was that even a question? Obviously not.

You allowed yourself to rest your back against the wall, head tilted slightly against it as you watched him slowly approach you. You hadn’t said a word, but the way your eyes took him in from head to toe, he had already gotten his answer.  

His fingers tentatively graced your arms, finding it quite hard to advance when you were just watching him so expectantly. It felt as if you had already done this with many others and were used to being worshipped. You seemed almost unaffected, but as his fingers began to travel up your shoulders, dipping into the little crook of your shirt where your collarbones were located at, he saw a glimmer of anticipation come from you. Your eyes were fervently watching his movements and he seemed genuinely afraid to continue.

“Jungkook,” your voice sounded so sweet, so innocent. It practically made his cock twitch with anticipation. You seemed so innocent, so beautiful, and so dangerous. “Just fucking kiss me already you wimp.”

He pressed himself against you without hesitation. One of his hands gently traced his fingertips on your skin as he removed part of your hair back to grab you by the nape of your neck. A soft gasp escaped your lips, reeling him in as his other hand grabbed a hold of your hip. With one simple glance between the two of you, he pushed you further up against the wall as his lips met yours. His tongue was already slipping past your lips, tasting the lemon flavored lollipop from your mouth.

Tongues lashed out as you eagerly tried to take as much as you could since who knew what would happen next. He moaned against your mouth, slightly panting. You came to figure out that he was definitely an ass man. His hands had wondered down your ass, kneading it roughly as he pressed his bulge against your cunt.

He was messy too.

His lips sucked on your tongue, hands grabbing and pulling you closer to him so he could grind against you. At this point his hand gripped your thigh and hitched it over his hip, his lips beginning to wonder down the crook of your neck. He was leaving hot, wet open mouth kisses, his teeth softly grazing your skin, and it was driving you insane.

“Jeongguk,” you softly moaned out his name, and he was not having it. He wanted more than just a moan. He wanted you quivering underneath him, back arching as he fucked you until you couldn’t handle it anymore. He was becoming insatiable whenever it came down to you and he was deeply terrified in that moment. He could have any other person giving him head for free without him having to do anything, but he didn’t want that anymore. He wanted you on your knees with your pretty mouth sucking him off. If it wasn’t you at this point, he didn’t want it. And that’s when he realized how utterly fucked he was.

Your hands were already unbuckling his belt before he could utter a word out.

 Fuck, you were ready to give this man everything.

“What are y—”

“You’re gonna have to be quiet, baby.”

You kissed him one last time before you sank down on your knees, hands gripping his cock gently. You were practically salivating at just looking at his cock. It was thick and long and everything you ever wanted. Jungkook bit down on his bottom lip, trying to stop himself from blowing right there when you hadn’t even put his dick in your mouth yet. In his defense, you were a really hot girl and he was clueless at this as you were. He hadn’t met a woman who could render him so easily without even trying.

He was already hard and leaking as you slowly began to pump him, eyes set and determined to give him the best head of his life.

“How about I give you a little taste of what could come if you’re sweet to me.”

Your lips were wrapping around the tip before he could answer, slowly sucking the tip of his cock in first. He bit down on his lip, teeth grinding against each other as you proceeded to take more of him in your mouth. Your tongue ran down his leaking cock, savoring his salty taste in your mouth, and you moaned out softly.

“Oh fuck,” he whimpered out, hands fisting beside his thick thighs. His knuckles were turning so white and a little bit of blood trickled down his palm as these whiny, and whimpering moans slipped from your lips. You were enjoying this, and he wanted nothing then to just cum right there in your tight mouth. You slowly bobbed your head up and down, swirling and sucking the living soul out of him in the process.

“R-Right there,” he panted out, eyes screwed shut. He refrained himself from moving, but you were being so good to him it was fucking hard for him to not do anything.

You released him to suck your fingers into your mouth, trying to make them as slick as your underwear was right now. “Use me, baby. Do whatever you wanna do to me.”

His fingers tangled into your hair, his hips stuttering to a slight stop as you gagged around his cock, spit beginning to travel down your chin.

“M-More,” he cried out, spluttering over his sentences. “Ohgod, hmfuck, I.”

He came all over your mouth, and like the angel you were to him, you swallowed it all.

“Holy fuck,” he heaved out, his cheeks rosy and his golden skin layered with perspiration. He looked absolutely ravishing. Right there all you wanted was to be fucked properly. It didn’t matter where at this rate, all you wanted, no, needed was him. His fingers were still tangled in your hair as he tried to regain his breath.

“Where have you been all my life?”

“I could say the same thing,” you easily countered back, your heels digging into the pavement by now. Your knees were scraped up at this point and you felt sweat beginning to gather up since it was so fucking hot, but it was so worth it. He released you and helped you get up.

“Grab your things,” he suddenly told you, and when he realized you weren’t budging he added, “Can you please grab your things so I can fuck you already?”

“Well, when you put it so nicely,” you rolled your eyes and he chuckled at your cuteness.

 The both of you stumbled into his apartment. Shoes were flung across the floor and your greedy hands were already placed at the bottom of his shirt, urging him to take the thing off so you could see him in his full glory. His shirt and shoes were gone as you latched on him, not giving him the proper chance to breathe since you wouldn’t stop kissing him, you were so addicted.

“Fuck, baby, wait. Are you sure?” He seemed nervous now and you found him more adorable now. He was so intimidating from afar, but now that you knew how much of a softy he was you smiled. Months before you couldn’t even utter out a word, but now all you wanted was for him to ruin you completely. You heard the stories, the fantasies, and his ego was there for a reason so he definitely knew what he was capable of.  It reminded you of the first time you had dropped the bomb shell on him that you were still indeed in fact a virgin. He was in the middle of searching for a goddam condom.

 “Oh, and before you fuck me you should know I’m a virgin.” You casually blurted it out and Jungkook stopped in his tracks, his hand stuck inside his pocket as his eyes landed on you in shock.

“W-What?” He stammered out, clearly taken back by your sudden outburst. “Shouldn’t you want someone who you love to—I don’t know, fuck you like they love you? Isn’t that what every girl wants? Or hopes for at least?”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “If I wanted to wait for a prince charming then I would die a virgin, Jungkook.”

“I’ve never fucked a virgin before,” he admitted to you and at this you cocked an eyebrow. Now that was certainly news you didn’t expect to come from him. You were sure he had de-virginized at least one person in his lifetime, if you could call it that at least.

“Well, there’s a first time for everything.”

No, you didn’t end up fucking. Which brings you back to now.

“I wouldn’t be standing in your apartment if I didn’t want you to fuck me, Jungkook.”

His eyes widened at your words, but yet again you always seemed full of surprises.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” He softly began, nearing you again. His hands engulfed your face, foreheads pressed together as he tried to gather his thoughts. His hands twitched to just touch you intimately, but now that he knew that you were practically untouched, he wanted to completely ruin you. He wanted to fuck you so good you’d never forget him, or his touch, or much less how he would have you quivering after blowing your back out.

“If you don’t want to, then that’s totally okay dude. I completely understand.” You tried to reassure him and you watched how his tongue poked the inside of his cheek, his eyes burning. He didn’t say anything, but soon enough his mouth was on yours and his hands were already sliding down your sides, squeezing and bruising your skin just how he learned you loved it.

“Y/N, I want you so bad.” Jungkook breathed out against your mouth, and you could see the inner turmoil going on in his eyes. “Fuck it.” He finally decided, his lips back on yours again. You were already wrapping your arms around his neck when he sent you stumbling backwards on to his couch.

“Bed?” He asked you, his fingers unbuckling his belt now. You swallowed thickly, insides going haywire since this was it, you were finally going to fulfill your promise. You were about to lose your virginity and it was with someone you knew you wanted, and even loved.

“Couch,” you decided, eyeing the comfortable sofa. You figured it shouldn’t be so formal with him so the couch it was.

He grabbed a hold of your hand and pulled you towards him. “I’ll be gentle, okay?” He promised you and you just felt your heart sigh in contentment for you.

He lowered you on to his couch, making sure you were placed comfortable on the pillow all while asking, “Are you okay? Is it too stiff? Are you sure you don’t want to wait? Do you want my bed instead? I promise it feels like a cloud.”

“No,” you answered to all of them.

“Okay then,” he cleared his throat. Then he changed, pupils dilating. “I’m going to make you cum until you can’t anymore.” That one shook you to the core.

A shaky breath left your lips upon hearing him say that, especially while looking like that. With his hair covering his eyes, lips swollen, and an aura of confidence.

“Oh baby,” he tsk to himself, a smirk beginning to lace his lips. “You’re gonna be in for a treat tonight.”

“Strip.” He simply told you, and you were so eager to obey him. Your hands immediately went for your top and soon enough you were flinging it somewhere, but before you unclipped your bra you suddenly halted.

“Lights on or off?” He asked, his backside facing you now. He was approaching the light switch, but drool was literally coming out of your lips as you watched in fascination how his muscles contracted with each movement he made.

“The real question is: can you fuck me with the lights off? Can I really trust you enough to not stick it inside the wrong hole?” You skeptically asked him and instead of seeming offended he just laughed. The lights turned off and you took in a deep breath as you unclipped your bra.

He stayed with his jeans on. They dipped lowly enough could see where his happy trail led on and the prominent v line that followed and hid inside his jeans. He looked incredible shirtless, and the tattoos that graced his skin did his beauty more justice. Every time you got the privilege to see Jeongguk naked was indeed welcome. His body was a temple that you would gladly worship until he allowed you.

“Oh fuck.” He inhaled sharply at the sight of you. You were only wearing underwear, and it wasn’t even lacy. It was cotton, but Jungkook noticed how fucking damp it was already. “You’re gonna kill me, baby.”

You shamelessly spread your legs wider for him. With Jeongguk, everything felt at ease, and as he approached you, you felt so safe with him. You came to trust this man so much that by now he had become second skin to you. Jeon Jungkook, the guy who came in and swept you off your feet in just a couple of months was about to rid of your purity. Excitement over came you as he began to crawl over your body, warm skin colliding with yours.

“You…” he dipped his body forward, bringing you down to the couch along with him. A playful smile curved his lips, his eyes on yours as he inched closer now. “drive me so fucking insane.”

The only lightning illuminating his apartment was the wall to wall window and you were both facing it since the couch was directly across from it, getting the view of the dark city below you. You were already wrapping your legs around him, trying to press him closer to you.

“I need you to spread your legs for me okay?”

Done. You easily complied to your boyfriend’s demands.

“You’re going to taste so sweet,” he rasped out against your skin, his hot breath fanning your sensitive skin. His long, wavy hair tickled your thighs as he tentatively dipped down, lips close to where you desperately needed him. He could hear your breathing pick up from that simple movement, but he was already half hard and he wasn’t going to hold back now. He’ll make sure you’ll come running back to his tongue, fingers, and soon his dick.

“Bon appetite,” he groaned out in pleasure, tongue swirling around your clit.

With the way you were laying down, with his hands running down your bare thighs, with his head between your legs, it was a sight to see. He tentatively ran his tongue down your slit, savoring your taste as he moaned in between your legs. His hand kneaded your ass before he brought you closer to his mouth, lapping all of your juices in that sinful tongue of his in one get go. Heat rushed straight to your cunt and all you could do was cry out softly at the new sensation.

“Remember, you can let go here, baby. Scream all you want.”

And then he dipped his tongue inside your tight hole, sucking and slurping like you did just an hour ago. Your hands instantly went down to his hair, feet digging into the couch as he pumped a long and slender finger. He was slowly easing it in, coating his fingers with your juices to spread it all over your cunt before he added another finger.

“Oh god,” you jerked suddenly, his fingers curling slightly. You were too lost in your senses that you hadn’t noticed he was watching you. His dark eyes took everything that was you in. How you drove your fingers into your own hair, matting it up as your feet became restless against the couch. The little cries that you made each time he forced his skilled fingers up to where your eyes rolled against the back of your head.

“S-Stop,” you were shoving him away and he immediately halted, lips pink and swollen. His chin was covered with your slick and you just shook your head in bewilderment.

“I want to feel you,” you panted out. “I’m on the pill.”

With urgency laced on your fingers, you brought him back up, mouth desperately trying to find his. And he of course followed you into your arms without hesitation. A sort of a whisper escaped his lips, breathing it out against your mouth, “You’re literally my angel sent from above.”

“Ditto, Guk.”

“Tell me if I hurt you, okay?” He softly whispered it out against your mouth, and you couldn’t help it, you smiled widely despite your heart racing. His fingers softly caressed your side, they were roaming your body so delicately, as if afraid to bruise you unintentionally. His rings graced your skin as he gripped your thigh, slowly hitching it over his hip.

“Tell me if it hurts and I’ll immediately stop,” he began and you nodded, the butterflies beginning to flutter all over you. “Look at me.”

Your eyes glanced up to his, and he was there, mouth on yours already. Your hands instantly cupped his face, breathing heavy as he momentarily stopped to push himself into you. His tongue was caressing your bottom lip, sucking and moaning to your delight. A quiet gasp escaped your mouth as he slid inside you. There was a pause between the both of you. Jeongguk slightly pulled away from your lips, his eyes taking in your reactions with such worriedness.

“You okay there?” He whispered out, and you began to nod repeatedly. Your fingers were threading into his hair instead, keeping him close to you. Your breathing was soft, and erratic against his mouth.

“Yeah,” you breathlessly managed out, trying to reassure him. “I’m okay, I promise.”

“Okay, I’m going to,” he gritted out, his mind focusing on not trying to blow when he hasn’t even fucked you properly yet. He slowly bottomed down and rather carefully began to stretch you out. A soft whimper escaped your swollen lips, but you were taking him in so well.

“You’re doing so good, baby,” he praised you, lips on yours. “So, so good.”

Your fingers were digging into his arms, eyes fluttering to a close.

“You feel so good,” he grunted out, refraining himself from moving. His arms framed your face, hot pants hitting your lips softly.

“Thanks?” You stupidly blurted out without thinking and as you closed your eyes to hide from your sheer embarrassment, Jeongguk just looked at you amusingly. You could feel his body shake as he quietly laughed to himself.

“Tell me when to move,” he softly reminded you. “tell me what you want because I’m all yours.”

You took in a deep breath. “You can move, slowly please.”

He hitched your leg over his hip before he slowly slid out and gently thrusted back inside. Your hands were tightly gripping his biceps, teeth sinking into your bottom lip at the discomfort at first but then Jungkook’s mouth was on your nipple, his tongue sucking and licking to his liking. His hands were gripping the sides of the pillow you were on top of, teeth grinding against each other as he struggled to hold back. You were too tight, too warm, and his veins protruded, arms bulging.

“Can I mark you?” he groaned out, lips releasing your nipple to look at you.

“You already left bruises you twat,” you reminded him and he shrugged. True.

He slowly pulled out, and as he slammed back inside your tight hole, he whimpered out against your skin. He found your mouth to distract him. You were kissing him equally as hard, swallowing his little cries of plea and desperation and that made you so fucking wet. He was this hot guy who looked as if he could fuck you into another universe and here he was whimpering, losing himself into you so desperately.

“Fuck,” you mewled out softly, fingers digging into his hot skin as he suddenly halted.

His face was buried in your neck, voice so rough from holding back. “Right there, baby?”

You nodded, your hands urgently trying to press him closer to you. They roamed the expanse of his back, gently tracing his hot skin as he slid inside you again. You could feel his thick cock pulse inside you and your cunt was clenching uncontrollably around him.

“Do you want me to fuck you harder now? Is that what my baby wants?” He purred out into your ear, his hand gripping your thigh so tightly you could feel your skin bruising.

“Yes,” you eagerly responded, eating up every syllable that dropped from those pretty pink lips of his. He slowly slid out and thrusted back, filling you up to the hilt. Your eyes rolled back into your head, lips parted as mixtures of whimpers and moans slipped from your so innocent lips.

“Fuck, move Guk.”

He let out a thankful sigh as he shoved you further down the couch, hand pinning you by the wrists. “You’re gonna regret that soon.” He slammed into you, hips grinding on to your pubic bone, earning lewd, squelching sounds in return from you.

The sight was unreal. Jungkook was pounding into you to the point your legs had begun to shake. Your hands kept running down his body, admiring every dip and every muscle, and your kisses had turned into heavy pants as his mouth took over your body. He was so good at it that it made your cunt clench onto him, causing him to groan out against your skin. His movements had halted to a slow thrust as he dipped forward, his arms extending to be placed on either side of your face.  

“How’re you feeling?” His arms were bulging, hands veiny, stomach clenching as he slowed down his movements to look at you. He was slowing down his movements to talk to you, but you were too focused on how his cock was filling you up each time he slid out and slammed back in with such brutal force that incoherent noises left your mouth as a response.

“S-So, good, ngh—I, I.”

You felt giddy from the way he was simply looking at you. Fuck, Jungkook stop before I fall in love even more with your dick, and you.

He ran his tongue up the side of your neck, licking a stripe of perspiration from your salty skin as you softly whimpered at the sensation. He was so good at everything. From the way his mouth sucked on your sensitive skin, to the way he was balls deep inside you now, and to the way his hands roamed your body, gripping and touching you until he was engraved in your mind. Every single movement he made, you could feel it and it was hot, so hot.

“Faster,” you panted out, and he complied. God, did he complied. “Kook,” you panted out, stopping him abruptly suddenly.

“What is it, baby?”

“Kiss me,” you incoherently demanded from him, your senses clouded by now. His easy going smile did wonders to your heart before he dipped down and kissed you like you wanted him to. His body molded with yours, his hot skin meeting yours as your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer to you than he already was. His strong, bulging arms easily lifted you up from the couch momentarily so he could wrap them entirely around your back, his hands gripping your shoulders now. His tongue languidly rolled over yours, tracing and sucking on your lips until you were panting and breathless. There was this burning need that was he so quickly approaching with each roll of his hips against yours.

“I—Jungkook, ngh—”

“Does my baby want to cum already?”

“Yes, yes, please.” You desperately begged, your mouth missing his as another lewd whimper slipped from your lips. “Please, please.” Your lips were all over his jaw, moans echoing in his living room.

He was so strong, so sweet, and so good at fucking you. You wanted more. He was becoming addicting as each minute with him passed and you prayed to your God that this wouldn’t be the last time you ever saw of him. His tongue traced your lips, and as he spread your legs wider for him to he buried himself into you again, a needy whine escaped your lips. Your legs wrapped around his ass, urging him closer as your vision blurred and your nails dug into his skin. You cried out his name out in the air as your orgasm rippled throughout your body, engulfing you in bliss.  

“You’re so good to me,” he rasped out, his voice laced with need and want. He slowed down, lips molding against yours while you whimpered against his mouth. Your fingers slowly threaded themselves into his damp hair, pants escaping.

“So, so good.” He praised, his voice sounding orgasmic to your ears. “Can my baby handle more?” He purred out against your ear, and you obviously managed out a soft yes.

As a response, you clenched around him and he let out a groan. His hands landed on your hips, suddenly flipping you over against the couch.

“Baby, I’m gonna need for you to bend your knees for me okay? Can my baby do that?”

Your arms shook as you happily complied and rolled over to bent forward now, your heart racing as you felt his hand run down your spine and sides. His finger traced your slit and you bit down on your bottom lip to stop the poor excuse of a moan to come out from your mouth. Your hands extended further on to the couch, gripping tightly as Jungkook slammed into you from behind without warning. He sent you forward from the force, but he didn’t stop. He didn’t stop since you were fucking screaming out his name, pleading him, “Harder, harder, har—”

His fingers tangling into your hair, gripping tightly as you as he fucked you so ruthlessly from behind. Words couldn’t even form anymore. All you were screaming by now was his name since that’s all your body could remember at this point.

Jungkook.

Jungkook.

“I—I, Jungkook—”

You were utterly fucked.

It was so dirty, so messy, and it was exactly how you wanted it.

His ass was grinding straight balls deep into your ass, his hand roaming your body while he used the other as leverage so his muscled body wouldn’t be completely on you. Meanwhile you could barely hold yourself together. Your fingers had dug into the couch, your mouth directly pressed on the cushion as you tried to stop yourself from screaming so much. But you couldn’t. Not when he felt so good filling you up all the way you could barely breathe. His mouth was sucking so harshly on your skin, his thumb and index finger kneading your nipple. There were tears forming in your eyes as you felt yourself approaching another orgasm.

“More, more,” you cried out in a mantra as you arched your back to meet his sudden thrusts. His arm wrapped around your stomach, pressing himself closer to you. His broad chest was firmly pressed against your back, and you could feel his hand wedge between your slick thighs from your arousal. You lost yourself in his touch, not noticing the way Jungkook was glancing down at you as he abruptly kissed you, swallowing the moan from your lips.

“I love you—” you uttered out, breathless and completely wrecked.

“And I,” He pressed his thumb, drawing figure eights on your abused clit as he grinded his hips against your ass, his tongue running down your neck, sucking briefly. “And I love you.” He was doing so much to you and your brain could only handle so much, but you winded your arm around his neck, pressing him closer.

“I’m coming, I’m coming—” you practically screamed out as your knees buckled before you. He slammed into you one last time as your legs quivered uncontrollably. “Jungkook.” He fell forwards with you, his moans mixing with yours as your body shuddered, your legs quivering from the intensity of another orgasm.

“Fuck,” he breathlessly chuckled, hands beginning to remove strands of your damp hair away from your face. “Are you okay?” he cradled your face, seeming a bit worried since you were just lying there, breathing hard.

“No, you fucking moron.” You managed to mutter out, and he grinned. There you were. “Fuck, you’re too much Guk.” You slowly uttered it out between pants. Your heart was still racing and you couldn’t even feel your legs at this point.

He just laughed.

“You’re too hot for your own good, dude.”

“Thanks?” He seemed skeptic at accepting the compliment from you. “But on a serious note, did you really mean it?’

“What?” You smiled, beginning to accommodate yourself in his embrace. “That I love you?” You reminded him, and he slowly nodded, his hands cupping your chin so you could look at him in the eye.

He nodded, “Yeah.”

You didn’t hesitate. “Always.”

“Well, I just wanted you to know that I love you too,” he confessed and Jeongguk was ecstatic to see that love struck smile appear on your face, because now he was self-aware that it was only reserved for him. “And since I love you so much, you get no choice but to be stuck with me.”

You squinted your eyes at him as you removed his hands from your chin. “Is that another form of way of reassuring that I’m your girlfriend?” you prompted and the sheepish smile was your answer in return.

“In my defense, I fucked you until your next lifetime so I thought that could have helped course your decision whenever I asked.”

“So you waited after you fucked me to ask me to be your girlfriend again?” you concluded, wonderment laced in your voice. Before he answered you just sighed, “For now it’s a temporary no then.”

He pouted, and then a mischievous grin began to appear on his face. “But on another serious note, now that you’re not a virgin and you’re my girlfriend, and that the Gods from above helped you get laid, does that mean you’ll become the filthiest slut just for me?”

You remained silent, eyebrows furrowing at his stupid question. Filthiest slut? Just for him? Out of all the dumb shit he could say he decides to use this moment as a—and then you remembered.

“Oh my God!” you exclaimed, horrified. You tried shoving him away from you, but he just wrapped a hand around your wrist, keeping you pinned down against the couch. “You fucking heard everything didn’t you!”

Jeongguk just rolled over, arms wrapping around your body as he wholeheartedly laughed against your chest. “I’m still your Greek god, right?” He pouted once you smacked him in return. “I’m sure you’re no longer that mute you were before judging by how loudly you were screaming my name just ten minutes ago.”

“Jeon, you’re going to end up without a girlfriend before you even leave this country.”

“Okay,” he snickered to himself, pulling you flush against his body again since you managed to pull away from him. “I’ll shut up now, but come back here.”

Glaring at him, you crawled back into his arms. Jeongguk simply wrapped his arms around your body, kissing the side of your head as he more softly said, “I love you, you goof.”

You hummed in return, sleep beginning to engulf you at the comfort of your boyfriend’s arms.

“And I love you.” you concluded happily before he began to pepper you with kisses, his giggles and touch once again making you surrender to him.  

[shiberpostshere]

The Kiss Thief - Park Seonghwa Social Media AU

38. Chapter Thirty Two: No, It’s Ryan Reynolds!✨

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Masterlist of the AU✨ 

Word Count: 6.7K (Buckle up, its time for a ride)

This Chapter Contains: Giggle worthy chaos and tooth decaying fluff. (An Annoyed San too.) 

It’s a regular Sunday. A quiet regular Sunday. An unusually quiet, regular Sunday that you don’t experience often as a college student.

An unusually quiet regular Sunday except for Yeri and Jongho’s loud, harmonious snores that vibrated through the lazy (almost) evening silence of the apartment while you had sneaked out like a thief bound with tinkling shackles out of the front door. 

It was exactly five minutes before 5 O’clock and you knew what noise pollution would commence once the short hand stopped perfectly atop the number five. 

The neighbour above starts angrily vacuuming to release their pent up frustration of the day or maybe to act as a thoughtful warning alarm to wake the other residents who might be napping above the universal napping time limit and the snarky middle aged lady beside, who begins banging pots and rattling spoons to prepare either her dinner or for a secret time travel battle she has to attend every single night to save the history for the sake of the present. 

You have a generous set for neighbours. 

Thankfully, you aren’t currently present in your apartment to experience the brutal murder of your ears. 

Unfortunately, you’re sandwiched in between San and Wooyoung in the shared wide back seats of the bus, stuffed to the absolute brim with sweaty and jumpy people. 

The serenity of the weekend ended when you willingly decided to step onto the Bus No. 7 for the following reasons: 

Number One, You and Wooyoung don’t drive and San owns a motorcycle that cannot carry three people at once, not without getting an overloaded vehicle ticket by pulling a stunt like that,

Number two, you have nothing better to do on a Sunday evening other than watch Yeri and Jongho scream about the WIFI and college website because they couldn’t select the classes they wanted fast enough, 

Number three, you were unable to escape from Wooyoung’s persistence but you had to get out and inhale some fresh air of the outside. 

It is a secret that you had isolated yourself in the sweet ol’ bedroom (in the name of preparing for a workshop), to take a five minutes rest which gradually progressed into knotting up your bones by rolling on the bed 24/7 and temporarily disrupting the serotonin production while watching sad movies, and

Number four, San cashed out a favour from that one time he fetched a folder from your dorm and drove fifteen minutes to deliver it because your degree was on the line. Which is why, this particular evening you need to help him out with whatever he wants to do at this Garden plus Research Centre for Thesis purposes. 

“The Thesis and Freebies Date”, term coined by Jung Wooyoung, free entertainment, food finder and a plus one, on Sunday 17th of May, 5:30 AM on the dot. 

On top of all these reasons sat Seonghwa’s last text message like a cherry on top of a cupcake of complaints. 

He sent you a picture of his americano that was loaded with ten pumps of syrup, “I’m drinking coffee😇”  

What coffeeee????!!?!?!?

Everything has failed you today. The public transportation system, your emotional support boy and your unhealthy obsessive complex believing that anything above two pumps of syrup is not coffee because you cannot handle personal preferences. 

“Why on earth is this bus full like it’s the last bus available to escape a fucking zombie aopcalypse. What is this ‘Bus to Busan’?” Your voice comes out with pure seething under your breath for only your friends to hear but you catch the old lady beside San narrowing her eyes at you with suspicion. 

San, engrossed in scrolling through his twitter and sipping his (proper) americano is least interested about your discomfort. 

“Oh I don’t know! I did suggest taking the subway instead but two idiotic people whined for five minutes straight to get on this bus.” His response is monotonous, attempting to contain himself from bursting. 

The pinching statement is directed towards you and Wooyoung who grumbled about the group having to walk after getting off the subway when the bus seemed like a better option that stopped right on the street opposite of your destination. 

Wooyoung’s frame shifts slightly onto your small seat as the hefty man beside him wiggles for space. “Yeah, Jesus Christ, if only I had had an epiphany about how crowded the bus was going to be before we board it.” 

If only you had epiphanies. 

The bus was mildly crowded when all of you had entered but became packed within the next ten minutes of collecting passengers at merely three stations. 

Poor Wooyoung is scared for his life knowing he will be ironed flat by the man if the bus jumps over a speed breaker or God forbid, decides to halt abruptly. The fear is relatable because the boy standing in front will collapse right onto your already shaky lap under any abrupt movements made by the bus. 

After five minutes of distracting himself, San shoves his phone in the pocket of his jeans and leans into your space to jab a finger at two of you simultaneously. “Yeah, Jesus Christ, if only my lazy ass friends knew how to walk but they left their legs in the semester break.” He accuses.

He is absolutely right. 

Every student, excluding the few exceptionally productive ones, collectively lost the ability to walk unless the end goal was acquiring food, money, grades and work experience. 

Wooyoung throws his hands up out of exasperation, “And you’re hundred percent sure that the subway isn’t packed?” 

You nod vigorously, supporting his argument because it doesn’t lead to admitting that you’re wrong and not once you’ll acknowledge the possibility of the missed subway having much more space than this body heat microwave of a bus that you two insisted on boarding until San gave in and agreed. 

“Yeah. Also, we’re accompanying you for your work, San.” You chide in to transfer the blame like a ten year old child and nudge the grouchy boy away from the seat with your right arm. 

San’s left brow twitches. He is definetly holding back a snarky retort. 

“Yes, yes, it’s all my fault.” He drawls on his reponse and turns his head away to ignore your presence entirely.

Apparently, it was not an unusually quiet, regular Sunday for the residents of Unit 8181 also known as the occupants of the apartment of Seonghwa and Friends who have been on the edge due to a mysterious late night incident that was not revealed to you no matter how many times you pried. 

Mingi and Yeosang were sprawled together on the couch, hidden beneath a bunch of weighty duvets which did not look like it had two people sleeping underneath it until they started untangling themselves from each other. 

Wooyoung was showering, apparently for almost an hour to scrub away his drowsiness as stated by San who has been extremely cranky and constantly keeping himself occupied with his phone and swishing and fixing his posh, sky blue cardigan (until you entered the kitchen and he dragged you out with him, suddenly all smiles). 

Yunho was the only one who appeared somewhat himself, still in his pajamas, folding questionably large amount of laundry. He mentioned ‘monopoly game night’ but you didn’t buy that excuse.

They were engaged in constant back and forth, ‘Who Can Shut the Other Guys Up In The Most Creative Way’ contest. 

Yeosang won after a house slipper flew out of his room, wheezed past your legs and landed right near the shoe rack as you stood there frozen. The aim was commendable but the action was concerning. 

Other than sarcastic remarks, all of them shared swollen eyebags due to the lack of sleep. 

A sleepy Mingi glared at you with his droopy eyes for thirty seconds, mumbled out, “Oh, it’s just you.”, trudged towards his room and slammed the door behind him. 

The apartment floor was spotless, not one obvious clutter in sight. 

Seonghwa will surely name everything he owns to them in his will once he returns in the coming week and sees the glistening state of the apartment. 

It reminds you that you, too, need to take care of that one chair that holds the tower of toppling dirty clothes in your room before he sees them and gives you an earful of nagging. 

A bead of cold sweat travels down the crevice of your neck. 

“How much longer until we arrive?” You committ the mistake of directing the question to the volcanic mountain prepared to erupt any minute now. 

The bus jostles with a screech, collectively swinging everyone forward with a painful jerk.  Shared sighs and groans echo throughout the bus. 

Staying put in your seat in this bus is more challenging than a one minute plank.

“I don’t know, he probably knows.” Wooyoung responds with a shrug, holding onto his dear life. 

“Maybe you should walk through this sea of people and ask the bus driver himself.” San suggests with an imposed smile, causing your own lips to stretch into a false one. 

“What a fantastic suggestion! I would love to use you as a human shield to push through this crowd and get to the front.” You answer, crossing your arms below your chest.

He offers you his entire irked attention.

Wooyoung’s forehead dives into the palm of his hand. He’d rather hide than let the passengers of the bus know that he is associated with the two of you. 

The agitated boy rolls his eyes, lips pressing into a thin line before he launches his lecture. “Okay, you know what (y/n)---” 

“Oh for goodness sake! Young man and young woman! Resume your couple’s banter at your place, don’t fight in public places.” The old lady whose patience was being tested this entire journey voices out her protest. 

You’re stunned for a good moment before your heads snap towards the lady, wearing similar offended expressions. 

Meanwhile, Wooyoung is holding onto his bubbling laughter. His palms having slid down from his forehead to his lips to prevent himself from laughing out loud like a maniac. 

“We are not a couple!” You both answer in a hurried chorus. 

After the frantic clarification, your eyes meet and the absurdity of the old lady’s comment wipes every single trace of the previous exchange.

Both of you break together into timed, soft giggles and the chain reaction pulls in Wooyoung who laughs into his hands to control the volume. 

The lady shakes her head at your reaction. “Well, then, not a couple, don’t fight and let me ride to my book club meeting in peace.” She states her demand, expression indicating that she is cooking incorrect judgements about your group in her mind. 

San and you offer her a quick sincere apology, suppressing the amusement derived from her assumption.  

“You two in a romantic relationship? More like a disastorous pair of wannabe edgy emo and a pissed caffeinated fantasizer. Nah, totally incompatible.” Wooyoung mutters under his breath. 

“He’d get rid of me in ten minutes.” You whisper your reasoning.  

San feels the old lady’s eyes boring holes into the back of his head, his arm nudges yours gently, “Make that five. Okay now, zip up.” His eyes and voice both firmly plead. 

“Yes sir.” You reply and shrink in your seat further to make room for Wooyoung to breathe. 

They’re quite a handful duo, alright, but they’re your handful duo and they handle you as well.

After ten minutes of bumping, shoving and tossing around the entire bus like popcorns, the three of you miraculously step out in one piece. 

You take a good five minutes to regain your normal pace of breathing again.

The relaxing wind carrying the gentle floral aroma from the garden calms your suffocated senses. 

Ah, finally, freedom from people.

The bus was overdosed with CO2. 

Your lips were zipped for most of the ride in order to avoid receiving another sneer from the old lady and making sure you don’t run out of the very last oxygen molecule present in the bus.

Wooyoung is stretching every limb of his body after being pressed in between the sandwich grill consisting of you and the giant man.

“You know what?” He pulls out a little black hair tie to control the little locks ruffling against his eyes. “Ditch me the next time I whine about not walking because that was literal hell. I am never stepping into another bus, ever again.” The determination present in his voice is almost convincing. Almost.

“You’re going to start whining when it’s time to return.” Adds San, after double checking every pocket present on his clothing.

An overwhelmingly tiring yawn falls through your lips. 

“Yeah, dude, no false promises.” You inch closer towards San to show your support.

Wooyoung’s exhausted face transforms into an unamused one, “You’re shameless.” 

Harsh but true.

“No, no, no, you last minute side switchers, get away from me. I am not claiming you.” Ignoring your presence, he simply walks towards the main entrance of the garden. 

A sickeningly sweet smile appears on your lips. “Hey, wait, I promise, I won’t take Wooyoung’s side ever again!” You say in a singsong manner, taking wide steps to catch up by San’s side. 

“Where do you think you are going?” The betrayed one gets a hold of your backpack and pulls you back with a forceful tug. 

Your shoes brush harshly against the concrete pavement. He accomplishes the task of slowing you down and makes a run for San, wheezing loudly. 

“Jung Wooyoung!” You cry out loud at his actions, your backpack flailing out of your arms. 

He treads beside his unbothered friend, front facing you from a distance. “We need to meet the professor at the research centre anyway, keep yourself busy until then!” A wink and a cackle, then he grabs San by his shoulders and disappears inside at an astonishing speed. 

Like a little kid whose ice cream has been snatched away, you stand there watching San’s waving hand and Wooyoung’s bouncy ponytail fading away.

A strong inhale and a gentle exhale, you try to calm the rapid heaving of your chest. 

“Ah, whatever! They’ll text me once they’re done.” Uttering the assuring words to yourself, you fix the carelessly hanging backpack and set course to occupy yourself in the garden until they’re done with whatever they have to do at the research centre. 

This is not the first time they have pulled this prank of abandoning you just for laughs and then frantically calling with the classic bait of “yo, come over at this food truck, we’re paying😏” 

They throw the same bait under any circumstances and it works pure magic on any living being who lives for eating. Even Seonghwa caves in, and your willpower is -2 compared to Seonghwa’s 10+ patience. 

Once you step inside the garden, you’re sure they have ditched you with good intentions as your eyes take in the lavish surroundings.

The green of nature is widespread throughout in the form of sturdy and lean trees, recently mowed grass and snipped shrubs peeking in between, all sprinkled with colourful little flowers like twinkling stars on a clear night sky. A gentle breeze whistles by within small intervals, rustling the leaves with the faintest crackling sound. 

There are feeble chirps of birds, hiding in their nests to sleep for the night. 

It is heaven on earth as the golden glow of the sun settles upon the scene. 

The lulling fragrance of roses carried along with the wind urges you to roll on the blanket of the grass and maybe even take a nap after tiring yourself but you know you’ll be thrown out because there are watchful guards scattered around. 

For once, you’re grateful that they left you behind. 

You’d rather take a walk around the garden while listening to serene songs rather than awkwardly wait behind them as they converse with the said professor they’re here to meet.  

I should explore a little before San gets into his Plant Geek Mode. 

A major path from the main entrance splits in several small, stone tracks, like a maze to explore. 

The region is vast, tranquil and maintained, no wonder a research centre lies somewhere in this arboretum.

You notice the informative display of the map, standing tall, indicating what lies in between and at the end of every track, piquing your explorer fantasy. There is a stack of small, handy maps for visitors to carry as well. 

You grab one, deciding upon the center most lane with your earphones playing the enchanting tune of Like a Flowing Wind by Day6 in a low volume.

“The North Lane leads towards the green house and the research centre.” You murmur, studying the contents of the map with much concentration. “Wooyoung and San probably went that way.” You throw a quick glance behind before resuming your stroll. 

The trail you’re currently walking on is the West Way, sheltered with tall towering trees and the Grand Elixir Fountain that lies at the end.  

You neatly fold the brochure and tuck it safely inside your pocket, saving the next spots to visit together once you regroup. 

Surprisingly, the garden doesn’t have an overflowing crowd. 

There are quite a lot of people occupying the benches and seating areas, mostly couples. You notice quite a few students, assuming they are, with their laptops and notebooks, surveying or either sitting in a formation to share their findings. 

Everyone is invested in themselves, in their own little world due to which the place feels quite private, snug and pleasant. 

The greenery, the sounds of nature, the music and soft whispers creating one whole atmosphere of contentment. 

It has been named Golden Blooms for a reason indeed. Except the Research Centre part, we’re going to ignore that for now. 

Seonghwa would absolutely love this place. There is nothing not to love about this. You can sketch a million ways of spending time here together. 

You don’t want to be a girlfriend like that but you’re to be a girlfriend like that.

A picnic after a long hectic week of continuous classes to unwind while spending quality time together, under a birch tree that casts a wide shadow beneath to watch the sunset while sharing the most mundane and silliest stories of your week and snacking on the collective bag you two usually pack before heading out for your Saturday Sunset Dates.

Maybe you’ll have to give up the spot due to its popular demand but it’ll be alright nonetheless. Instead, you’ll resort to taking every lane to check what lies at the end as Seonghwa’s personal playlist will be the perfect background music. 

The day will end with a hearty dinner and crashing in either’s bedroom, cuddling together where he always insists on being the little spoon and you always give in. 

 Oh god, I went too far. 

If just the thought has you feeling immensely giddy, how exhilarating would it feel to actually spend a day like that? 

Back to present, (Y/N), back to present. 

The uneven stone trail comes to an end as your shoes sink into the bed of the grass. Your next steps feel extremely light. 

Walking on this grass is the closet one can experience how walking on a cloud feels like. You constrain yourself from removing your socks and shoes and running around on the grass like a madman--

Holy Shit. 

The Grand Elixir Fountain is a masterpiece. 

Rather than blindingly white, it is a comforting shade of evanesce beige. The sculptures surrounding the circumference are alluring rather than intimidating of mythical water creatures from numerous mythologies.

A water nymph settles at the heart of the fountain on a wave with water sprouting from the pot she’s embracing. 

The gurgling water simmers down onto another platform shaped like a lotus, little droplets splashing on the people standing close by the edge and then gliding down from the platform into the bottom expanse to become a slow, rippling stream. 

The Fountain is a high lord, you are a mere peasant. The Fountain is the moon and you’re a small star. The Fountain is queen bee and you’re a worker bee. The Fountain is a high quality gaming PC and you’re a laptop you had to buy with an acceptable graphic card because you’re a college student who is surviving.

Maybe you’re not the best with creative descriptions but it’s okay you’re a law student any way. 

Creative writing is Yeosang’s forte and he worries about it plenty. 

“Seonghwa can’t be here but I can send him some pictures.” Pulling out your phone, you scan the area. 

An old couple are seated on a bench to the far right admiring the view, bunches of people pass by once a while either to leave or enter the area and a small group of friends are circled in a corner preoccupied within themselves.

“Okay, nothing to see here, just a college girl fangirling over a beautiful fountain.” You say it with the intent of addressing the people present but it is mostly directed towards yourself to not get embarrassed before you engage in a long photo session full of fascination over a fountain at an arboretum.

Okay, alright, let’s get this over with.  

The cause of your dubiousness is Jongho. 

He has pointed out several times that while taking photos you tend to get absorbed and switch into questionable positions just to score a worthy shot. 

You somehow manage to capture moderate looking full shots without getting any uncanny looks from the visitors around with only one close up shot left. 

The star of the fountain, the water nymph. 

It’s alright. Hopefully nobody finds you getting on one knee to capture a decent picture of the fountain uncanny. 

You’re just a harmless college girl who wants to text her boyfriend, excite him about your possible future dates and hunt for food while waiting for the two little devils to return and get working before it’s too late. 

Gentle sprinkles splash onto your face as you move a little closer with careful steps to find the best spot. The water is enticing on this boiling day.

You hold your phone up, adjusting the angle to your liking. “Okay that’s good.” 

Before you can press the capture button, a pair of hands lock around your waist, someone’s weight settling on your shoulder. 

“No, shift it a little more to the right.” A voice, obscured by the earphones, speaks extremely close to your ear, sending a quivering sensation down your spine. 

The first instinct is to freeze, your entire body numbs at the sudden action, heart beating at an alarming speed. 

It is followed by a startling scream of having a stranger’s arms wrapped around your body. The scream pierces through the placidity of the garden, birds from the trees flying away to safety out of fright.

Finally, the adrenaline rush kicks in, your physical senses registering the situation and your reflexes activate. 

The phone still connected with the earphones flies out of your hands and ears, elbows diving back to land double smacks on the intruder’s stomach to get him off your back.  

The old couple look into your direction with a panicked expression and the entire group nearby jilts up and dashes towards you to investigate the source of the scream. 

You turn around to inspect the trespasser who has landed flat on his butt, clutching onto his stomach as continuous groans and curses fall through his lips. 

“(Y/N)! What the hell!” The obscurity long gone, you recognize the familiar voice and its owner. 

Losing the energy in your legs, you fall down into a squatting position. “Seonghwa?” In a panicked state and a hesitant voice, you call his name. 

“No, it’s Ryan Reynolds.” Mockingly, he whimpers, trying to regain his knocked out senses. 

It is indeed your boyfriend who is currently supposed to be in Japan but is in pain because you landed two good elbow punches right on his stomach after his 4 hours of excitement at the airport and two hours of flight and it is definitely, hundred percent confirmed especially, after his eyes meet yours, full of pain and shooting imaginary daggers at you. 

Seonghwa expected a surprised embrace on his return. Anything but two blows right on his abdomen. 

“Park Seonghwa!” You exclaim. 

“Nope, no, I am not Park Seonghwa anymore.” He states in a faltering tone. 

“Miss, are you alright?” A boy from the far away friend circle interjects, stopping in front of you. “Is he bothering you?” His fingers wrap around your arms to pull you up. 

His other two friends help Seonghwa but with a much constrained grab on his arms.  

You look at your boyfriend being held by the two strangers and then at the boy, eyes performing a few puzzled double takes.

“Miss?” The boy reiterates his query. 

You’re dumfounded, your thoughts hazy. 

Collecting the remaining strength in your body, your hands fly in gestures of denial. “No, no, that’s my boyfriend.” 

The boys appear skeptical. They exchange disbelieving glances. 

“Are you sure? If he’s really bothering you, we can call the police right now.” One of the boys holding your boyfriend suggests with the intentions of your safety. 

The frenzied senses simmer down second by second, your hand reaches out to free him from the strangers’ hold. “No, no. Thank you so much for your help but there has been an misunderstanding, that’s all.” 

The boys release him and you replace their hold by linking his arm. 

“He is really my boyfriend. I was just surprised.” You state with complete assurance. 

“It’s also my fault for creeping up behind her. Thank you for watching out. We’re sorry for the disturbance.” Seonghwa takes the cue and bows down a little to offer a sincere apology. 

His other hand rests atop your bound one. Your gaze stays taut on him, following his actions to apologize as well. 

The boys notice your relaxed figure beside him. “Ah alright, so it was a misunderstanding.” 

You nod frantically. “Yes, yes, it was. We’re sorry.” You say politely. 

Calculating the situation, the boys exchange final greetings before trusting your relationship and leave you two with a, ‘Be careful with your surprises!’ 

The surroundings stop still until Seonghwa unlinks your arms to intertwine your fingers instead and bends down to pick up your phone. 

“Should we sit somewhere and talk?” He suggests in a composed tone. 

“Oh, right, yes.” You answer, mentally occupied collecting the dispersed bits of your comprehension grip.

You two settle on the broad bench, previously occupied by the old couple who left after the ruckus, facing each other.

“Are you okay? Does it hurt?” You search for his eyes that meet yours in a span of millisecond after the raised enquiry.

Your fingers contract and expand with hesitancy near his abdomen where you, or more accurately, your reflexes stroke him a blow. Eyes fluctuate up and down, from his face to the injured area, teeth abusing the lower lip with worry. 

His hands catch and close around your awkward ones, “It hurts but I am fine. It might be bruised but it’ll be gone with time.”  

You look at him, face full of regret, “Seonghwa, I am so sorry.” 

“It’s alright, (Y/N).” He says with the most assuring look that there is in this world, “I mean it.” 

You were worried that he might be mad about the commotion but him unlinking your arms in order to hold your hand was an indication enough that he wasn’t. 

His anger is often intelligible. He needs the time to stay mad, cool down and talks only when he is ready. The time creates an emotional distance and that distance is unbearable until his heart is ready to resolve. 

He doesn’t hold petty grudges. He certainly forgives but he doesn’t forget. Instead, he draws the line in the relationship to grow apart naturally. 

You happened to experience it once when he was conversing with a senior who had given him a hard time and oh boy, the line he drew was fiery and bone chilling cold at the same time. 

“So, that was definitely not what I expected after I decided to surprise you.” He confesses, his eyes mellow, “I should’ve listened to Hongjoong when he said that the idea is too sappy.”  

While he speaks, you’re occupied with staring at him like a hawk with bulbous eyes. 

“What happened?” He prompts you to speak, a fond smile on his lips. “Cat got your tongue?” His fingers fix the disheveled hair resting on your forehead. 

His eyes hold such raw warmth while he merely tucks little strands behind your ears that you fail to realize you have tears streaming down your cheeks. 

“Hey, why are you crying?” His expression shifts into a concerned one. “What happened?” He probes further. 

Before you register your actions, your hand is flying to land a soft blow on his shoulder. “Why didn’t you tell me you were returning today!” 

Maybe the volcanic eruption that was swirling inside San somehow descended into you. The difference is, his was motivated by rage and yours might be motivated by mortification.

He retrieves his hand to hold the area you’re attacking, gaping as he rubs the sore spot. 

“Why are you hitting me!” His expression is muddled. 

Seonghwa expected a surprised embrace on his return. Anything but you hitting him after he attempts to calm you down as his plan of surprise fails worse than the time he had failed history in sixth grade. 

Your hand reaches out to land another gentle smack. “What are you! A freaking saint! Why didn’t you tell me!” 

Even you are not aware why the outlet chosen by your feelings is hitting your loving and caring boyfriend who planned such a great surprise that you managed to ruin by knocking him straight into the abdomen with your pointy elbows. 

“Wait, what--” Your words only further deepen his confusion.  

The next smack or rather love tap, as per your definition, doesn’t get through as his hands are quick to catch yours by the wrists. 

“Why are you hitting me babe?” He tilts his head to the side. “You’re hitting me because I am nice?” He lifts his right brow. “What, a saint?” A playful smile lingers on his lips. 

The audacity of this man to act coy with you when you are full of all sorts of emotions whirling within you like a raging tornado. The audacity of this perfectly, perfect man! 

With your slightly puffy eyes and tears stained cheek, you profess. “I am embarrassed okay! I am really embarrassed, I screamed so----” 

A tch sound comes from him, followed by a, “Idiot.” 

He pulls you into him through the hold he has on your wrists, your chest colliding with his. His arms wrap around your waist in a secure manner, head resting sideways onto the comfort of your shoulder that he dearly missed. 

You melt like an ice cream on a hot day under his touch, taking no time to find content in his embrace, face nestling into his warm neck. 

“Don’t be embarrassed.” He removes one hand from your waist to offer comforting caresses on the back of your head. “I don’t know what I expected your reaction to be. Honestly, this particular one didn’t even cross my mind.” 

You lift your head from his neck but he quickly returns it down again. 

“I didn’t expect you to appear in front of me a week before your actual arrival either.” You speak in a muffled voice.

He pauses his stroking for a second, “I knew you were clueless but I didn’t know you were this clueless.” 

“Excuse me!” You shuffle in his hold but he has you latched onto him.

He nestles further into your hold, almost pulling you onto his lap out of habit. 

“Seonghwa!” Palms pressing against his chest, you try to scuffle away and receive a disgruntled noise from him. 

Having performed his action only halfway through, your right leg sits on top of his left thigh and you leave it there to dangle idly. 

“Dude, we’re in a public place.” You remind him, placing a sneaky little peck on his neck. 

It’s the courage after announcing you’re an idiot to the entire world.

He is astounded by your actions but definitely not as much as you are. 

Seonghwa expected a surprised embrace on his return. Anything but you mentioning that you’re in public and then proceeding to plant the softest kiss on his neck, not that he minds the latter. 

“Wise words coming from you in a public place.” His thumbs trace circles on your collar bones, voice adding an extra emphasis to the ‘public’. 

He squeezes you tightly and moves you in his hold like you’re his own personal teddy bear causing laughter to escape from your lips. 

“Giving you a basic hug after you come back after almost a month and a half?” You declare like you have performed some high and mighty act, “No, that is not enough to express my excitement, I had to smash out my love on you, babe.”  

His face dawns an unimpressed look. “Yup, I made a mistake coming home.” 

Your own words cause your face to scrunch up with cringe. “Yeah, that was too much, don’t talk about this in front of anyone, ever again.” 

You missed him. God, you missed him so much. 

His long hair is intact, not a single strand has been snipped. He looks as stunning as you imagined him to be. His navy blue coat may have been washed with a different detergent than the one you are familiar with but the earthy smell of his regular perfume is present. 

The only new additions on him that you can notice right away is the blinding glow on his sleep deprived face and the abstract patterned scarf wrapped neatly around his neck. 

“I missed you.” You wish to say it as softly as possible but you end up blurting out the words. 

He smiles with twinkles in his eyes. “I know, idiot. I missed you too.” 

You rest your palms on his cheeks and press them hard, lips protruding out in a pout. Pulling him in, you offer him a brief peck.

A long one is saved for later when in private. 

The heat on his cheeks is an evidence that he is taken aback by your bold actions. 

“First a kiss on the neck and now a long peck?” He smirks, eyebrows dancing up and down. “You’ve become quite gutsy within a month and a half huh?”

You fawn, “and you’re still carrying your mischievous habits with you! I was praying for you to leave them behind during your vacation. Did you achieve nothing?” 

“Come here you!” His hand clasps behind your neck but this time he connects his lips to the side of your forehead to plant the deepest kiss. 

You shriek as the prolonged peck soon transitions into pillowy lips peppering feathery kisses on every little endearing spot he discovers to shower his love. 

Unable to suppress your delight, subdued giggles bubble out of you.

The delight of having him by your side again is indescribable. The current state of happiness you’re feeling is indescribable. 

You feel his hovering lips expanding into a smile, foreheads faintly clashing together as you two laugh your heart out. 

There are tears forming in your eyes but this time due to happiness rather than humiliation.

Your eyes catch the sun dipping below the horizon, shooting colourful rays as it bids goodbye for the day. “Seonghwa, look, the sunset, it’s so beautiful.” You note while he pulls you into him sideways.

He hums, turning around to admire the view,  “Oh wow, that’s......beautiful.” 

Time slows down just for the sun to submerge into the horizon with its glory. The orange, pink, purples and blues of the sky press mute on the world for the briefest interval. 

He ruffles your hair, pulling you out of a trance, “And that’s our cue to leave.” 

It takes special effort to abandon his comforting hold and get back up on your two feet. 

The disappointment lasts a mere second as his fingers quickly interlace with yours. “Where to next?” He asks.

He takes slow steps. You stick close by, half of your body weight leaning into him but he doesn’t seem to mind. 

You consider your choices for a moment, the grin ever present on your lips, “How about we take a walk and then drive to the river side? I heard there will be star gazing event later at night.” 

He looks at you impressively with a questioning smile. “Oh really, who told you that?” A gentle gleam of fondness floats in his eyes. 

His heart is swelling with love, your presence is comfortable. 

You channel your best know-it-all face, “Oh, you know, Wooyoung, San and I were planning to--” 

The sentence stops midway as you remember, Wooyoung and San! 

Your movements halt, “Wait, Wooyoung and San!” 

He cracks up at your delayed realization. 

“They’ll be fine.” His fingers offer a gentle flick on your forehead, attempting to tap some sense into it, “Unless, you know, you want them to continuously comment during our date about how my arrival disrupted their last night’s sleep.” He reaches out for his pocket to pull out his phone but you’re quick to prevent the said action. 

“No, no, no, no.” Your reaction amuses him further. “That’s not what I meant. I am glad they ditched me, goodness, never been so glad that someone left me behind, swear to god.” The flurry of words scatter everywhere but the intended meaning has been received by him.

“And what else do you have planned for the night?” He asks, walking straight, exaggerating the breadth of his shoulders. 

“My fantastic company, Seonghwa, what else do you need?” In a wounded voice, you question. 

He shakes his head. 

“No?” 

“No.” 

“Fine, tonight’s dinner is on me, no budget. What do you want to eat?” You present your best offer in the most sugar coated tone.

His jaw drops in a dramatic fashion you’ve never witnessed in your life, “That’s it? Woman, I flew in today to surprise you today and that’s it?” 

You stand on your tiptoes to whisper a special spell in his ear. “Who said that would be it?” 

The rasp in your voice has goosebumps rising on his skin. 

“What do you mean?” He stares down, eyes wide. 

“Hey, by the way, how did you know I was near the fountain?” You quickly change the subject, your thoughts running wild and heart ready to pounce out to run a hundred mile marathon. 

“What do you mean?” He repeats, eager to receive an answer. 

His innocent smile has been replaced by a devilish smirk.

His constant questioning and hopeful gape has you regretting your previous words, causing warmth to spread on your face. 

Flustered, you recite your question for the second time, “Tell me, how did you know?” 

“It was a guess. I haven’t forgotten about your pigeon feeding adventures near the mall fountain” His answer is concise, to the point and hurried. “Now, tell me, what do you mean?” 

He finishes the topic within a few seconds, arm nudging persistently against the side of your stomach.

This man. Oh god, this man. 

“You have a great memory! You remember everything!” The fake enthusiasm and flustered laughter that is evident in your answer has him laughing. “Oh, look, we’re here!” You announce, feeling grateful once you spot the main exit getting closer with every step. 

“What did you mean?” He takes quick steps to stand in front of you, his hand leaving yours. 

“Seonghwa! Stop it, don’t get back on your teasing shenanigans so quickly, give it a day.” You say as casually as possible, stepping aside to continue on your way. “I’ve embarrassed myself and you quite enough for today.”

Seonghwa slings his arm around your shoulder from behind, “Yeah, alright, we’ll see about that later.” He mimics your casual tenure. “I guess.” He adds, hinting at your suggestive statement. 

You nod in agreement, appearing calm and cool, “Yeah, I guess, we will.” 

“You little tease.” His free hand gives your left cheek a little squeeze, leaving a light aching.

You stumble a little on your way out of the garden, “If I am a tease that makes you the devil that you truly are.” 

“I agree, I am a beast.” He really, actually, dares to say that with his whole chest, out loud.

“Yeah, sure, little baby.” Your fingers mockingly stroke his chin with a pout

He chuckles, changing his position to properly stand by your side. “Enough of that now, let’s go, I am starving.” 

“Yup, let’s go, tender beast.” You imitate his own words on him. 

“No, seriously, stop that.” He declares sternly. 

You do a motion of zipping your lips, holding your free hand up in surrender. 

Oh, how the tables have been turning constantly today. You can now understand why Seonghwa never gets off your back and it looks like you will not be getting off his tonight. 

Metaphorically and literally. 

Meanwhile, Woosan

San, who has been talking with the professor for almost thirty minutes now: It was pleasure meeting up with you Sir

Wooyoung, releasing a sigh of relief beside his friend because he didn’t understand a single word that was exchanged, internally: Finally 

Suddenly, San: Oh btw sir I had another question 

Wooyoung, ready to create a rampage right there and then, grabbing a chair to smash it on the ground: OH MY FREAKING GOD DAMNIT CHOI SAN YOU---

🌸

A/N: OH MY GOD I CAN FINALLY POST THIS, I CAN FINALLY BREATHE EASY

I started writing this last Saturday and it went through so many drafts and versions, getting cut down to this one. It took me a week mostly due to other commitments. I edited this once and I am sure it still has teeny tiny mistakes but please look past that for now. I will correct it whenever time grants me. 

Also, I would really love to know what you think about this chapter! Please let me know, I would really appreciate that 🥺🥺🥺💕

I know it has been a long time since the last update but I reposted the masterlist with the final update schedule and it will update and end accordingly as per that.

(Also the woosan scene is a little exaggeration, they had a rough night, as you will see in the bonus) 

🌸 Taglist: 

@enigmaticsal @stardusthyuck @missiopk @preets-kpop-world @sanisms @jiyeons-closet @hongjoongsnoona @veeeenus4 @mochibabycakes @vhschs @jaeminbluee @vantclavs @f-iyan @staywritten @yellow-wxve @uppiespuppy  @uppiespuppy @mingiflower @multiangell @quicklystickystarlight​ @kunhye​ @nekee-lilac02​ @peachyprincessminki​ @hidden-wildflowers​ @raysanshine​ @skzpleasestay​ @tearvantae​

🌸 Unable to tag: @mingiibabiee @dreamie-deonghwa @9songbird19 @retrofuture-ism @aratrikade

🌸

Please do not repost, modify or claim this work as yours. 

[baodurs]

i filled out this super cool button character profile by @extraordinarymage for sabrina! thank you for making this, it was a lot of fun to fill out <3 the bulk of it is under a cut and oh boy is it long !!!

Short, Quick Reference

Name: Sabrina Wiseman

Pronouns: She/her

Sexuality: Bisexual

Love Interest: Kent

Main personality trait: Confidence

Secondary personality trait: Morbidity

Relationship with Nick: Full of love, haunted by unaddressed guilt and frustration. But mostly full of love.

Nickname for Nick: Saint Nick (used sparingly)

Resentful or accepting?: Slightly resentful

Main strategy (interpersonal, insightful, innovative?): Insightful

Ethical or expedient?: Expedient

GENERAL

Name: Sabrina Larkspur Wiseman

Nickname(s): Sab, used by anyone; Sabby, only Nick and Sally; and, of course, Button for Nick.

Birthday: I think I made her an October Libra for the purpose of a template I did months ago, but I’m not sure! No concrete birthday yet, I’m always very slow to nail down details like this.

Age: 20

Pronouns: She/her

Sexuality: Bisexual

Hair color + style: Blonde. A little past shoulder length, sometimes wavy. Usually a middle part. For Aeon, tied back in a bun.

Eye color: Blue, entirely because of the section of Frank O’Hara’s “Meditations in an Emergency” that goes, “My eyes are vague blue, like the sky...”

Height: 5′5

Piercings: Multiple in each ear, but a couple have started to close.

Tattoos: None yet! Sab likes the idea of a tattoo but is worried about finding the perfect design, whether she’d end up hating it, that the pain might be greater than she expects and she’ll look like a baby in front of her tattoo artist. I’d like to think she eventually consults Sally and/or Glitch to come up with an idea that she falls in love with, but I haven’t come up with what that would be!

Clothing style: Mostly solid colors, not a lot of patterns. Nothing super bright, but a fairly varied mix of pastels, neutrals, dark colors, black. Partial to denim skirts and sweater tops. Ankle boots. Likes a good turtleneck. She’s bolder when it comes to formal wear, and especially loves suits. Big fan of silk and satin.

Since she has a pretty accurate face claim, I’ll link some gifsets I’ve rb’d for appearance ref if you are so inclined.

STATS

I’m always adjusting minor things and swapping scenes around, but these are from my most recent Sab run! Most scores hover somewhere around these values.

Personality:

Confidence: 53%

Humor: 5%

Morbidity: 22%

Resentful: 57% | Accepting: 43%

Strategy:

Interpersonal: 12%

Insightful: 50%

Innovative: 10%

Ethical: 43% | Expedient: 57%

KEY DECISIONS:

What is Nick’s nickname and why?: Saint Nick, used very rarely. It’s a joking reference to the time she thought Santa was an evil Ment out to ruin Christmas, and a point about Nick overdoing it with the cheer. “Saint Nick” is usually code for “I know you mean well, but please mind your own business.” Otherwise, she just calls him Nick.

What is their favorite type of cookie (and its name and why?): Salted caramel chocolate chip! No special name.

What was their initial reaction to Sally hugging them, as kids?: She just froze. That could just be me projecting adult Sabrina onto her childhood self; I don’t imagine that she was as uncomfortable around strangers or quite as cautious back then. But that’s what I’ll stick with.

How did they ace the ASE test?: The in-game option she takes is “My entire life has revolved around strategic avoidance,” but the one about being just plain smart also sounds like her. If Sab has the chance to thoroughly (over)prepare for something, she will do it. Her mind blindness also has her constantly (over)analyzing situations. So, hard work and relentless anxiety!

Did they manage to win their first assignment? How?: Yes, by having Sally block the door. I’ve headcanoned some slight differences in how it plays out, which I wrote about in-depth here. To summarize, Sab thinks of blocking the door as a desperate last resort, not a clever loophole, and she pushes back against Rosy’s praise because she wishes she could have done it the “real” way. Rosy goes from being impressed to being annoyed that she’s willfully missing the point.

What was the primary emotion Button felt during the Aeon bombing (love, gratitude, etc?): Guilt. She feels very guilty about how much Nick has given up for her in general, but I think that in the moment, it’s on a smaller scale. The fact that Nick was on the phone with her when it happened, coming to her rescue like always, becomes emblematic of their whole relationship for her, and she really fixates on that.

Who drove them home from the hospital from and why?: Glitch. Sab responds to her initial text with “Are you sure?”, and is relieved when Glitch takes that as “Yes, please.” She doesn’t relish the idea of being around someone more connected to her family or Nick at that point.

How do they feel about Nick riding around in their mind?: Worried, at first. Just because it’s so unknown and absolutely insane. After seeing Doctor Amari, she’s excited! Sab is thrilled to be a Pollard Five and intends to take full advantage of it. I am not looking forward to seeing how she reacts when that’s taken away from her.

Why did Button agree to do the undercover mission?: To prove she still deserves to be an MIV. Sabrina feels stupid and reckless for putting herself, Nick, and Aeon in this position, but she knows she’s smart, and she hasn’t worked this hard for nothing. She wants to prove what she could do with a normal Pollard Score and make herself too valuable to give up even when she’s back to Zero.

Told Glitch about your mind blindness?: Depends on the playthrough. I’m constantly going back and forth on whether Sab meets Glitch for coffee or wanders the city with Nick in her second chapter 5 slot (after trying to track down Kent). If she does meet Glitch, though, she absolutely tells her; with how touchy Sab is about privacy, she couldn’t stomach not warning Glitch that Nick could hear everything they said.

Figured out K’s secret?: Nope. She finds enough of the clues to be given the “I knew it!” option in-game, but she didn’t actually put it together. Sab is too angry and embarrassed by learning that Kent is an AMO to find any reason to interrogate it. “The random guy I met before school just happens to be a jerk” is a perfectly sound explanation to her.

Found Noh’s clues?: Not at the metro station. Sometimes she sees the Vengeance brooms in chapter 5 (again, depending on the playthrough), but that’s it.

ROMANTIC RELATIONSHIP:

Love Interest: Kent

Why them?: Sab feels an immediate kinship with Kent after learning about the NPO program. It’s kind of funny how quickly he moves from the least sympathetic position in her eyes (Ment who got past me and read my mind without my knowledge) to the most sympathetic (non-powered child of a prominent family aiming a league above where he “belongs”). A lot of new respect for his competence. Her fate is sealed when she realizes that his kindness at the hospital wasn’t him trying to make up for some wrongdoing, but just him being very sweet. (She had scoffed over “You needed help.” But now she’s like, “Oh. He meant that?! Fuck.”)

As they spend more time together, Sab realizes how weirdly similar they are in other ways, too. And she starts to feel safe/secure around him in a way that she’s extremely not used to. Growing up surrounded by Ments, Sab has a lot of issues about being too much, too difficult, needing to “be worthy” of love. So someone like Kent who is not a Ment, who has no “obligation” to care about her, and whose judgement she trusts implicitly? Being around him and being loved by him mean a lot, and I think will go a long way towards helping her reflect on her other relationships!

What are their first impressions of each other?: Okay, there are like 3 first impressions with Kent. First: he’s tall and handsome and secretly adorable, and they have similar career goals, so she’s drafting a five-month plan to woo him and get his number. Second: he’s a lying, self-obsessed loser who owes her many explanations. Third: oh no, the first impression was true! And he’s been continually, selflessly kind to her in spite of her overt hostility. Scratch the five-month plan, because the crush was only fun when it was entirely superficial; now she really, really likes him and that just sucks.

We know that Button makes a good impression on K by stopping for their dogs, but apart from that... I mean, the “we confused each other” from chapter 7 is very apt. Sab has lots of shifting personas, and Kent sees pretty much every one within 24 hours. The prevailing impression before everything gets cleared up is probably just that she cares a lot? About everything? Her stopping for the dogs, how seriously she takes the first assignment, the way she seems so deeply affected by something he said or did that morning. It’s a rare side of her to meet first because she usually pretends to be above everything.

What feature does your Button find most attractive in their RO (ex. appearance, personality, etc.)?: Probably his composure. And his... steadfastness? The way he seems unruffled by anything, his soothing presence. She really admires that about him and finds the calm contagious.

What do they do to spend time together?: Going on drives together! Kent driving while Sab plays songs she thinks he’ll like, talking or not talking. Cuddling on the couch while reading their own separate books. Museum dates. Walking the dogs together.

Do they argue? How do they handle arguments and disagreements? How do they make up?: I imagine that the first month or so of their relationship would be difficult, just because they’re both bad at expressing themselves and not used to relying on other people. Kent kind of negates a lot of Sab’s impulses to get defensive or hostile, so instead of arguments, I think there are more likely to be awkward periods where she’s just stewing in something without addressing it. Most of their fights would be, like, one of them becoming really distant for a concerning number of days until the other tries to awkwardly check in on them.

What does their future look like?: Uhh some random lore: I think eventually they do get married, despite neither of them caring that much about it. Sabrina would be excited to have something to plan, and she knows it would make the people around her happy. They have a long engagement; there’s never really an “official” proposal, just an acknowledgement that yeah, they’ll get married one day, and then eventually they get rings. The engagement is almost Sab’s favorite part, honestly. She likes planning and showing off her ring and calling Kent her fiancé, a lot of fanfare on her part for a wedding that ends up being very modest and chill.

OTHER RELATIONSHIPS (Feel free to go in depth!)

Relationship with Nick: When I first started developing Sab, I thought that with as difficult/prickly as she can be, her relationship with Nick would be worse than it is. Never bad, but certainly strained, with more jealousy/resentment on her side. However, she rejected this. She is resentful, but never towards Nick—she internalizes the negative parts of their relationship so they manifest as guilt instead. And that’s the problem, not resentment. Sab thinks he’s overprotective, but that doesn’t make her angry; it just makes her sad. She wishes things were different and he didn’t feel so responsible for her, but she also doesn’t know how she could manage without him taking on so many of her burdens. So, guilt! So much love, but always looming guilt.

Having Nick in her head has helped. It’s added a new kind of guilt (“I’m a horrible person for being so giddy that people can’t hear my thoughts even though that requires my brother to be in a coma”), but getting inside Nick’s head for once and really feeling his love for her changes things. Makes her feel way more secure, I guess? It’s easier to see her brother as human person, a friend who loves her, rather than a perfect selfless paragon who sacrificed everything to raise her, which is an important shift.

There are also Things happening with self-presentation in the fact that they’re both models, and flirts, and pretend to be shallow. And the ways that they’ve responded to vastly different expectations. And selflessness versus selfishness. But I have no idea how to talk about that yet.

Relationship with Father: Strained and distant. Sabrina doesn’t necessarily blame him for leaving, but she hates how he’s handled it. She’s incredibly frustrated that John insists on keeping them in this miserable limbo of uncomfortable visits, even though moving away was (to her) a tacit acknowledgement that she and her parents are better off without each other. He’s trying to force a relationship that Sab thinks is ultimately harmful for everyone involved. For Nick’s sake, she’s willing to grin and bear the visits, but it never works because John can obviously tell it’s an act. He pushes her, she gets defensive, and so on to infinity.

Relationship with Mother: Like with John, Sab doesn’t resent Hope for the incident itself, or for leaving afterward. It was terrifying, and the idea of being around Hope makes her panic—but she thinks of that as just another irrational anxiety symptom, and she’s trying to work through it. What she does resent Hope for is letting it get to that point at all. Sab is incredibly bitter that Hope will suffer silently to the point of almost killing her (during the incident) and potentially herself (with the BRS), while Sab has no choice but to be completely open. Especially because they’re so similar in that way—she’s almost jealous. “Oh, so your silence is allowed to almost kill me and it’s ‘nobody’s fault’ but I can’t pretend to enjoy a single lunch with Dad without him calling me out for lying?”

And even though she doesn’t hold the incident itself against her, Sab is very hung up on “Why are you never quiet? Why are you always there?” She knows, on some level, that this was not a Personal Judgement against her. But because Hope keeps so much quiet, this is the only honest expression of her mother’s feelings that she can remember! It would take a lot for Sab to believe that Hope was really, genuinely interested in reconnecting with her, rather than just pretending to love her "enough” this time because to do otherwise would reflect poorly on Hope as a mother.

Relationship with Sally: Besties <3 Sally is the only member of the Wiseman inner circle that Sab doesn’t have complicated feelings about. They both have hidden morbid streaks that they bring out in each other, and can laugh about. They both have competitive streaks that work well together because they’re always on the same team. And their wants/needs from the relationship complement each other well, I think. Sally has always felt valued because she’s useful and not because she’s loved, while Sab has always felt smothered by love/care without feeling like she genuinely adds value to other people’s lives. So it means a lot to both of them that they’re able to help each other practically, while also genuinely loving and supporting each other outside of that.

Relationship with Gray: Full of trust and genuine care, but predicated on distance. Sab loves him a lot for being so careful not to cross any boundaries, physical or emotional, with her. She’s grateful that he’s there for Nick in a way that she doesn’t feel she can be. But "I like Gray because he doesn’t push me and is good to Nick” means that any hand he extend makes her defensive, because she’ll either view him as an emissary of Nick or start to panic because their normal routine is being disrupted (she doesn’t tell him about Hope in ch 3, for example).

They get along very well in a friend-of-a-friend sort of way, and bond over being cautious counterparts to Nick. Also, Sab never had a crush on Gray, but she is not immune to tall superhero and thinks it’s fun to fake flirt with him. (You know Isabela’s “You have pretty eyes” routine from DA2? Sab does that to Gray when conversations steer towards things she’d rather not talk about.)

Relationship with Glitch: I’m really excited about these two! They click from the start, and Sabrina feels immediately comfortable around Glitch, which makes her feel distinctly uncomfortable whenever she catches herself. Externally, they have pretty different personalities, but they’re both perceptive and... socially manipulative? aware of their self-presentation?... in ways that they both pick up on right away. So it’s a lot of conversational maneuvering and trying to figure out what the other’s game is, while also genuinely enjoying each other’s company.

Relationship with Kent/Kenna: I could go truly insane here. See the romance section above instead.

Relationship with Kim: Sab wants him to like her sooooo bad. He’s one of the only people to ever really get through to her, re: my headcanon conversation after the first assignment. Authority figures tend to treat her as special, whether that’s negatively because of her mind blindness or positively because she’s such an overachiever. She had no idea how to respond to that not being the case (and didn’t handle it well at first), but chapter 6 solidifies her respect for him.

It also turns Rosy’s opinion of Sab around; he was impressed by her in class but left his office thinking she was self-absorbed and naive. But the bombing is a reality check, and her response is very measured and practical in a way that surprises him.

Relationship with Lev: She doesn’t mind the comparisons to Nick or the “maybe one day they’ll fix you” comments as much as you might think. They aren’t her favorite, but she prefers that sort of thing to the inspirational platitudes belied by coddling that she got from her family growing up. Sab has fond memories of Lev and is grateful that he’s always been kind to her, but doesn’t have any particular feelings apart from that.

Relationship with Clarence: Holds a grudge against him for causing a scene, making her late, and generally being a jerk. But she can’t fault him for being right, after what happened! Mostly she just wants to avoid him, but she’ll be thrilled to lord her success over him if/when she proves herself.

Relationship with Dean Branham: Like Rosy, another authority figure that Sab desperately wants to impress. But without the personal investment she has in Rosy’s validation, more “Oh, this person is in charge, so I should make her like me!” Despite Nick’s and Rosy’s reservations, Sabrina doesn’t really have a problem with being “strongarmed” or manipulated into cooperating; for now, she figures Branham was just doing her job and respects her tactics.

Relationship/attitude towards Ments in general: Mostly just uncomfortable and wary around them. Sab doesn’t want her mind read, and she figures that no Ment wants to be forced to read it either. So she has a pretty strict “no Ments” rule for close personal relationships (excluding Nick, Sally, and Gray, of course. But only Nick really counts because he’s the only one who can hear her thoughts whenever she’s nearby). Not out of hatred or resentment, just because she knows it will be easier for everyone in the long run.

Do they have any other important relationships, past or present? (Relatives, friends, etc.?): Not many, but yes! Sab dated around a lot in the 2 years before Aeon (more like year and a half, because she completely shut it down once she was more focused on preparing for the MIV program), but there are 2 relationships that were formative/important for her. A high school sweetheart, and someone Sab met through modeling. She doesn’t keep up with her high school ex, but the model is her best friend outside of Sally and Nick, and they still keep in touch! I’m still developing them/the relationships, and I’ll probably post more about them someday. They’re fun!

PERSONAL BIO

Describe their personality: Confusing and contradictory. She has two main modes that confuse people who meet both (e.g., Kent). She’s either cold, stuck-up, and sometimes hostile, OR she’s charming, frivolous, and sometimes flirty. Mode 1 is tense but stoic and inexpressive; mode 2 is seemingly relaxed but very posed and insincere. Mode 1 is for when she feels uncertain or has no agenda apart from “get to point B”; mode 2 is for when she’s more comfortable or trying to manipulate someone. Her actual personality is a bit closer to the second, but she doesn’t pretend not take things seriously or hide when she’s annoyed.

Strengths: Analytical, methodical, detail-oriented. Very driven and hardworking. May not always act like it, but does have social skills/charisma; a great liar, if you can’t read her mind. Unfailingly loyal and loving to her favorite people, so so so warm and affectionate and supportive if she really loves you. Very perceptive.

Weaknesses: Way too proud. Can be petty and vindictive. Self-absorbed (she doesn’t mean anything by it, but it’s hard for her to see past herself sometimes). Stubborn, hates being wrong. And... emotional isn’t the word, but strong negative emotions can really cloud her judgement. It ties into her being proud, petty, and stubborn; if she’s really upset about something, she can cling to that emotion instead of re-evaluating it or moving forward.

Phobias: From this ask about the phobias that are planned to show up in-game, there are a few that I could see fitting Sab, but I want to wait to see how they’re implemented before I fully commit. Which is very metagame-y, I know (and I am very metagame-y about IF), but “fear of X” is so broad that it really does depend on when/how it manifests in the text.

That being said, agoraphobia is almost a lock; crowds do make Sab very anxious if she can’t keep track of everyone within a certain distance, and if she can’t leave when she starts feeling antsy. Claustrophobia is a maybe. The choice that triggers it (in chapter 4, about hating MRI machines) suits Sab, but I’m not sure if she hates MRI machines because she hates tight spaces, or if it’s more related to her general anxiety about hospitals, medical tests, etc. Which she definitely has!

What activities/club did they do in school?: She avoided anything group-oriented as far as possible. She took piano (maybe violin?) lessons and did recitals, but wasn’t in orchestra. The one exception was maybe National Honor Society or some equivalent, which she would have joined for her resume’s sake. And I think she would have tutored!

Where do they escape to when they need space?: A little used library corner, where she can people watch without being seen/heard.

How do they feel about/cope with their mind blindness?: Sab hates it but tries not to dwell on it. She knows that it’s no one’s fault, and she mainly just tries to... minimize it? Drown out her thoughts, limit her contact with Ments. And, least healthily, very rigidly managing herself. Because there’s so much of her that exists outside of herself, without her control, she tries to either filter or completely suppress everything else. Part of why she got into modeling, she can perform and be perfect and have total control over the final product of her body in the photographs for whatever campaign. Some Day This Will Be Better. But definitely not where she is in current canon.

How has your Button changed since the Incident with Hope?: Developed many new anxieties and disorders and syndromes :) She also became way more self-conscious, as in literally conscious of and way more tightly monitoring herself, what she’s thinking, what she’s expressing, how she’s sitting, etc. Less emotive face, more rigid posture.

If they weren’t an Aeon student, what would they be doing?: Sab would have beaten herself up forever if she “proved everyone right” by avoiding Unity/Ments entirely, so she’d want to stay in the family business somehow. She probably would have ended up doing scientific research on mental agility. Maybe even working for Mirrortech or some other biotech company, which I imagine would have been an interesting conversation to have with the family.

RANDOM FACTS:

Zodiac sign: Like I said, I assigned her Libra months ago for the sake of a template. But I don’t know enough about astrology to commit. Libra or Leo, probably.

Hobbies: Music, reading poetry, “cooking” (i.e., sitting on the counter and not helping while Nick makes dinner)

Likes: Watching other people (Nick) play video games, dressing up, taking long showers/baths, dark chocolate with caramel, back hugs

Dislikes: Being patronized, hot weather, going to the doctor, driving, doing anything she is not good at

Type of bedsheets: Bamboo.

Drink of choice: Cucumber mint lemonade! For hot drinks, some kind of caramel coffee. For alcohol, she refuses to get drunk because she’s terrified of having even less control of her mental broadcast, but at home/around people she trusts she’ll have a glass or two of wine. Doesn’t know enough to be picky, but doesn’t like it too sweet.

Favorite food: Probably some pasta dish Nick makes with asparagus and tomatoes and a lot of garlic.

Favorite color: Like a light turquoise!

Favorite music: Music to her was another mind-shielding tactic before anything else, so she tends to like upbeat-ish electronic/pop stuff. Catchy and repetitive, and/or with lots of personality to drown out her own thoughts. On the other end of the spectrum, she does have a soft spot for crackly, lo-fi, old or old-sounding slow songs—something about fuzzy recordings simulating a weak telepathic signal.

Favorite season: Hmm, spring and autumn are both good. She likes either side of winter.

Anything else you’d like to share: My heart and a long, fulfilling marriage, with anyone who reads all this 💍

[cerberus253]

Demon Deep Dive (JCA)

Someone asked if I could do headcanons for the Eight Demon Sorcerers from Jackie Chan Adventures, so here it is, and more! Much more oh God...

Canon Stuff

All seven Demon Sorcerers HATE Shendu for his conniving nature and deceptive past towards/with them (Drago just hates him because father issues)

The Demon Sorcerers do not need external objects to perform spells, for it simply comes from their physical being

They are all old fucks

There are plenty more demon sorcerers, but these eight/nine are all those that were ever mentioned

All want to rule the world

Everyone, aside from Shendu, actually somewhat care about each other and agree to rule the world together. Why is that even though they shouldn’t have “social urges“ because of their biology? We’ll discuss that later

Looking back on the very first episode they were all in together, they are fucking in sync as all Hell! They were finishing each others’ sentences, they knew what each one was thinking. Damn, son, they be tight AF; family goals, amiright?

How to start a Demon Sorcerer meeting: Step 1) Find Po Kong, Step 2) Call everyone else over because it would take too long moving her at all

About the individual demons themselves (Most of this is reworded from the Wiki, but confirmed through watching their episodes):

Hsi Wu

Guerilla tactics for the win

Oddly patient, ya know, for someone so kind of childish

Becomes bored easily, so he has the knack to pick on his siblings and humans, with the latter being in more vicious and cruel ways

Aside from Shendu, Hsi Wu is the most bullied by his siblings (it’s because he’s small, isn’t it??)

Although he hates Shendu like the rest of his siblings, he is more “cold and apathetic“ towards him, with occasionally getting along, albeit extremely slight

High pitched noises hurts his ears

“His wings are sharp enough to cut through concrete“

Playful, although in a sadistic way

Simply flies to get where he needs to be

Likes to pester and make fun of Po Kong specifically

He just. Constantly smiles or has this big wide, toothy grin on his face all the time

*gremlin noises* *cat hisses*

Best/Worst Actor Award goes to...

Tso Lan

Sophisticated and more-or-less monotone sounding, he is always on alert with his senses. Despite this, his reaction timing is awful

Seemingly emotionless, his relaxed demeanor breaks when something doesn’t go his way. He does display some sarcasm, though

According to the wiki, he is very hard to please and never compliments anyone. What a stuck-up asshole

Along with Bai Tza and Xiao Fung, he is one of the more authoritative demon figures of the family

He apparently is one of the elder siblings

He is one of the most powerful sibling because he can bring the fucking Moon out of fucking orbit like it is nothing

He is Shantae He can control his hair, as well as float and glide gracefully

He can survive in space

He does indeed have legs, for he has been seen walking ONCE and we get to see his boots (Demon World (Part 2))

Shendu (My apologies, but not my regret, about if you are upset with me and my loathing for Shendu)

Selfish asshole who doesn’t like sharing, even with his family

Everybody Hates Shendu and Shendu Hates Everybody, and they all want each other dead, including Drago

Legit, he made a truce with Uncle, the mortal enemy, so he could horribly punish Drago. What a good father, amiright???

Can hold a grudge for, like, ever and hardly ever keep his promises. He also willingly admits he’s a traitorous bastard

Greedy and sophisticated asshole

Like, Jesus Christ, I wanted to give Shendu some slack because I did not want myself to be blinded by hatred for the guy, but my God is he the worst

“Shendu is not only devoid of compassion and sympathy for mortals, but also cares little to nothing for his family-members - this is displayed most markedly by how he left his siblings to rot in the Netherworld so he could rule the Earth himself.“

“Father and son's relationship was so toxic that Shendu even declared when Drago was being sucked into an interdimensional rift that his son deserved no less than to be trapped on the other side for his disloyalty.“

“Despite this, in response to Drago's apology and profuse pleading, Shendu visibly contemplated for a moment and hesitantly decided to try saving Drago from his fate (with a warning that his son must remember he is second to Shendu while they're on Earth), suggesting Shendu might genuinely care about his son to some extent (or at the very least, as close to caring about another being as Shendu is capable of).“ Um, not sure if I agree on the “genuinely care“ part, but totes on board with the “just wants him for a playing chip“ thought

Although he may be one of the most powerful demons of the family, that does not stop his siblings from actively going against him, which surprisingly makes Shendu submissive to them. Hmm...

He legit cares about no one but himself and that is no overstatement. I’m sorry to all those fangirls out there :V

Once ruled all of China

Shendu gets all whiny and high pitched, often stuttering, when expressing fear (which is every single time he gets a family reunion, which reminds me...)

He can be such a cheeky charmer

Although Shendu only cares about himself, he does seem pretty observant with recognizing what others do want, and of course uses that to his advantage. Hm, observant guy; no wonder he has fangirls

Tchang Zu

Not that talkative, even during fights, and rather only speaks when he feels the need to. However, when he does speak, it is rather loud and/or commanding

Hates when he isn’t respected, especially out of fear. He hates it so much he verbally explodes with anger when something personal to him is disrespected

Is willing to get down and dirty when reaching his (and his siblings’) goals

Is most likely the most colorful with his wording and admiring architecture

Really only attacks those he deems worthy (apparently there was a crowd of humans he only bothered scaring away and not attacking, even though they only saw him as entertainment?)

Become Goku Flies on a cloud to get where he needs to be

Oh my God he sits criss-cross-applesauce

Dai Gui

A little under average intelligence, but his brutality and strength make up for it, being an absolute bulldozer with anything that stands in his way

I must reinforce the “a little under average“ part because he does use the word “ludicrous,“ which is no caveman word

Violent and macabre imagery is his verbal forte

A big bully, since he loves throwing his authority around to those under him

Similar to Tchang Zu, Dai Gui is also willing to do dirty work, but mainly for himself than for others

Absolutely LOATHES “pretty“ things, like flowers

Sometimes talks in third person

Seems to prefer using his raw strength than his magical powers

Laughs at his own jokes

Persistent and dedicated. Nice!

Po Kong

Hungry Hungry Hippo; food is always on the mind, I wouldn’t be surprised if her want to rule the world was second on her list

Although she can and would eat anything, she is still picky

Her favorite flavor is human and salt

She knows French (ah yes, one of the “Love Languages”)

She snores

Po Kong likes to torment Hsi Wu

She can walk on her own

Favorite food: Human

Bai Tza

Hates Shendu the most

Most outspoken and dominating out of all the demons (”verged on superiority complex”)

Tends to deal with situations more realistically, as well as learning from past mistakes

Despite her intelligence, her hubris still gets the best of her

Along with Tso Lan and Xiao Fung, she is one of the more authoritative demon figures of the family

Apparently didn’t have humans living in her palace, which was Atlantis

Can levitate

Bunch of banshee screeches. Yeesh

Xiao Fung

Talkative and slimey diplomat that prefers debating with his siblings rather than arguing and fighting

Enjoys fights to the death between his underlings

Has an interest in drama and being a part of it

Seems to be the most cooperative and decent when working with humans. Cool!

Absolutely despises the Netherworld so much that a human prison is “paradise“ to him

Along with Bai Tza and Tso Lan, he is one of the more authoritative demon figures of the family

Need to get somewhere? No problem, just jettison your way with wind bellows from your lungs through your mouth

Although he does care for his siblings, it’s apparently not enough to “carry the burden“ of freeing them. Maybe it’s out of pure laziness? He does seem against doing active things (other than blowing wind, which only he can do)

Headcanon Stuff

Why do the Demon Sorcerers (besides Shendu) actually care for one another and agree to share the Earth between each other? I did say they do not possess the inherent-to-parent instinct, but I never said they were not social animals. The demons may not have the need to reproduce or want sexual anything, but they do posses the need/want to have company, which is kind of supported by the fact that canonically and in real life, Chinese demons mainly want to be praised and treated like gods. One cannot be considered a god, nor be praised in general, if one does not have beings beneath or beside them for confirmation

So, in a way, you could say they all desire some sort of reassurance of their importance.

Their relationship with humans is understandable, given from with what I just said, but the relationship between one another is a little more... deep? They obviously consider each other legit family, so they do care about one another (with some rough-play rivalry), but I think it’s less on the biological factor and more of the “fitting in“ factor.

Here’s my theory: Yes they are biologically family, but they did not view each other as such originally. After a while of being with one another, experiencing similarities, they became family-close in the metaphorical sense (in addition to the literal sense). This would explain how Shendu could have lost touch with them intimately while the others did not with each other, all the while still considering each other as family.

So, despite my whole push on the demons having little compassion, they do still harbor it; expressing it through family feelings. However, just like humans, there are always those who posses less compassion than the average person, and that would be Shendu. Shendu is the psychopath of the family-- the Black Sheep, if you will

In addition, theoretically, for all those fangirls and guys out there, they could love you like a precious pet. Just sayin’ (so, like, imagine the Demon Sorcerers having human pets and treating them like we do our own “Look how much of a chonkster my human is!” “Oh yeah? Well mine started getting ready for winter early; look at this massive boy-o!” I call my cats “stupid, stinky babies who I love” and then proceed to cuddle them all the time :V)

Fuck it, they have family movie/theatre nights because I find it endearing even though it may be Out of Character

To begin this next section, I want to state that the Demon Sorcerers are based on The Bagua. However, it is merely their elements that are the inspiration, not anything with the philosophy behind Bagua. However however, I will be looking into it and seeing what the Bagua has that still can reflect on the sorcerers. In other words, instead of basing the demons on the Bagua, I’ll be “basing“ the Bagua on the demons, if that makes sense.

Smol

Hsi Wu’s kingdom was probably located on the eastern coast of the USA

Judging by that teacher’s transformation with some of his chi, he may have “avian tendencies” with flying south for the winter and building nest-like structures

Probably the most convincing one to “befriend“ a human. Not because of his past friendship with Jade, but because people could relate to him of being picked on from size and lack of abilities, in addition to being more approachable because of his size and playfulness

His demeanor is mostly childlike, especially with how cruel children can be

Probably dislikes orchestral music, especially violins, flutes, the triangle, etc

Would most likely become a memester. Maybe.

“How do ya do, fellow kids?“

Likes to listen to music/singing while doing things and stuff. So, maybe he has to be distracted to some degree to be content, or he will be grumpy? (AD(H)D)

Real Talk: At one point in Tale of the Demon Tail (where Jade “befriends” Hsi Wu, or really his persona), Hsi Wu’s persona of being Jade’s friend actually disintegrates. Meaning, that “mask“ he put on to befriend Jade, at one point dissolved into an actual aspect of himself. So, when he answered Jade’s question of ‘are you going to the dance‘ or whatever, his initial response was that of an actual human-child Hsi Wu friend. While yes he was still acting, his initial response was almost unconscious, and then he realized what he was saying and said the other thing. I mean, it could have easily been “Nah, that’s stupid-- oh wait, that’s a good idea to get inside the house, actually,“ but that still follows the unconscious response action. What am I getting at here? Well, the interaction the two had proves that a clump of Hsi Wu’s personality does click with Jade. I’m not saying “I ship it“ or anything, what I’m saying is their personalities attract one another in general and could work between two different characters. As much as they seem to get along, there are other characteristics the two have that oppose one another and definitely shatters that friendship. So, Jade and Hsi Wu Being Friends? No; Some Personality Traits They Have Connect to One Another in General and Could Work Between? Yes.

The ye olde game of Chase is probably his favorite. Ya know, the game where you chase people around? Yeah, any game where he gets to chase/hunt his pray would be his favorite

Very similar to Shendu, Hsi Wu is one of the craftier folk of the family. However, unlike Shendu, creativity is his primary weapon which is, of course, used to make up for his size. 

Similar to Xiao Fung, Hsi Wu is also one of the siblings that listens and pays attention the most. Their difference being is the information he learns is more for his selfish advantage than a “getting along” way. 

Despite his dishonesty towards Jade, he is the most integral to himself. What I mean is, while yes all the demons follow their demon ethos, I believe Hsi Wu is the most true to himself and wouldn’t back down or reject something he is honestly interested in. However, probably because he knows how others know him, he can use this integrity to fool others into believing him with ease.

Hsi Wu is also probably the most inclined to have faith in others, but this DOES NOT mean he easily trusts people. What I’m saying is he may not easily trust others, but when he does, that faith in them is near unwavering

“The Beauty of Mischief”

“Lord High Lord of the Sky,” or “Lord High Lord of Firmament”

Vamps

Tso Lan’s “kingdom“ was probably located on the Moon

Like all sophisticated assholes, he probably enjoys reading, but only books that deal with the fall of humanity and apocalypse stuff. Maybe even some space stuff, like the movie Interstellar? (Star Wars can kiss his ass, though)

Can posses dark matter? Because of his dark magic bolts and his affinity with gravity?

Doesn’t like being around people. His siblings are fine, but he rather not have company, judging by how he most likely spends his time on the Moon and rarely visits Earth. Antisocial personality disorder much??

Like we have stated earlier, Tso Lan never gives out compliments, for he is oh so difficult to please. He watches intently and is careful with his neutral wording, always sounding cold and cruel. However, despite his emotionless disposition, he does have some ugly colors. For example, he does get angry, especially when he is interrupted. Example two, he does take pleasure in tormenting his enemies. However, the good color of natural tranquility explains his seemingly “lack of emotion.”

If he can ever “give respect” to anyone, it’s probably so difficult to achieve it should be considered impossible. But hey, if you do somehow get his compliments, consider yourself special, home slice! In addition, it’s probably also highly unlikely to get him to laugh. Like, not even a chuckle. Maybe a sarcastic and flat “Ha,“ but nothing too intense.

He may not think of himself as king or an emperor, but he does view himself as some sort of higher metaphysical power, like a pontiff. In addition, he probably sees his position being the highest because of his throne on the Moon and his power over gravity (and maybe dark matter). Being used to this placement, he has distanced himself from just about every living thing, being untainted with normal, petty desires. Oh but being a demon has its drawbacks, for wanting is in the blood. Meaning, there are most likely some things out there that he may desire (Fanfic Writers, assemble!)

You want him him to talk dirty to you? Why yes, you should keep good hygiene and not be smelly. Real Talk, though, because of his lack of emotion words, he probably would have difficulty conveying emotion verbally. But hey, his voice and tones are enough to get anyone aroused :V

Might secretly like dancing, but only simple ones. Like, The Waltz would be the most active he’d like

Might also hum tunes every so often. Despite that, he still prefers silence over noise of any kind.

“The Beauty of Isolation”

“Lord High Lord of the Moon,” or “Lord High Lord of Satellites”

Shit Dad

Probably studies magic the most and has a huge library filled to the brim with spell books and whatnot

Drago may be on his mind a lot, but probably not for any positive reason

Probably had Drago made for that thing in Taoism where two beings can connect one another metaphysically, and if one is in trouble (like they died or something), the other can help out (and resurrect if need be). Or, he wanted someone that wasn’t human on his side because he’s sure as Hell his siblings won’t side with him

While Drago is way more hotheaded than his Dad, it seems Shendu is more likely to let a petty grudge get in the way of his goals

Shendu hates family reunions

Dude’s a mad scientist

Probably regrets having Drago

Oh God, oh fuq, it’s the Big Bad Dragon that wants everything for himself. He must know what his name translates to because oh boy does he feel entitled to his mighty sovereignty. Like, he lusts for power so much that no amount of trickery could mask his clarity of greed, ya know, like a “true” dragon. What he wants, he will obtain, with let nothing obstruct his path… other than a petty grudge. He’s so full of passion and thermal rage he sticks out like a sore thumb amongst his brethren. He would even sink to deep lows to get what he desires, even if it is heavily depending on humans, lying, cheating, and stealing from his own family, doing forbidden things with humans to have a “son” he only wants to use as a playing piece, and even bend reality to his liking.

However, I must say it is impressive and admirable how adaptive he is with every situation he finds himself in. He is rather courageous and would try anything to reach his goal, even if it is siding with the enemy. Shendu speaks in sophistication and eloquence, to which the latter trait he shares with Xiang Zu, despite his childlike outbursts of rage.

He may not be the most elementally powerful sibling, but he is The Best with knowledge about other magics like spells and potions.

He does perform the stereotype of “dragons are beasts of greed” exceptionally well, which, I can admit, is pretty hot, being a monster lover myself

Something I’ve noticed with his face is that he lacks lips, which are replaced with external tooth-like structures. This actually forces the creators to make him expressive through other means, like his eyes. So, he’s expressive, and he fits the draconic poem I read in a book somewhere “Beware the glint in a dragons’ eye/ It is cold as ice to the liar/ It is sharp as a knife to the knave/ It is hard as iron to the greedy/ It is a burning flame to the brave.”

“The Beauty of Wrath”

“Lord High Lord of Fire,” or “Lord High Lord of The Thermal”

Sparky

Tchang Zu’s kingdom was probably located on the western coast of the USA

Would request for extravagant buildings and structures, as well as being a big fan of theatre (Beowulf, anyone?)

I can imagine him having a deep, boisterous laugh that is an award to trigger

Probably the best war strategist, everyone would hate playing Axis and Allies with him (He’d either play Russia for the size, or Germany because, well, you know)

(I’m just repeating what I’ve already stated, but whatever.) Similar to Tso Lan, Tchang Zu is careful with his words. However, what the latter does is speak only when he deems it appropriate, and sometimes with eloquence. When he does share his thoughts, it is in an assertive tone, making everyone stop and listen.

Tchang Zu is rarely ever caught off guard and surely plants himself where he stands, literally and figuratively. Despite his assertiveness, he does not come off as one of the most “authoritative” figures of the family. Instead, he’s more of an overseer and commander, making sure everything is falling in line under his, and his siblings’, iron-fist.

He is one of the few that would take the initiative when confronting a problem, which must be pretty terrifying for the opposition, seeing as how intimidating he is. Oof. Although he is on the shorter side, it does not bother him, for he knows his power is just as great as his siblings’.

Unlike his siblings, he wouldn’t be one of the “crafty” folk. What I mean is he isn’t a trickstery cuck like Hsi Wu and Shendu, but actually follows demon code and honor. I mean, not that “demon honor” is anything greater or equal to “human honor,” but the point still stands. What is “Demon Code and Honor” you ask? I dunno, watch Jackie Chan Adventures and observe demon culture yourself.

His demeanor may be slow and steady, but when he fights and flashes lightning, so much power and energy erupts from within. Majestic

Knows how to use semicolons properly

“The Beauty of Imperiality”

“Lord High Lord of Thunder,” or “Lord High Lord of Electricity”

Dai Guinguini

Dai Gui’s Kingdom was probably located on the western coast of Europe, maybe more specifically Spain

Let’s take that “hates pretty things“ even further beyond. The words “delicate and innocent“ usually come to mind when the words “pretty“ and “flower“ are shown. So, I headcanon he hates weak and fragile looking things, as well as cute. The more petite and dainty something looks, the more of an urge to destroy rises up

Probably needs to hold down a vomit when seeing romance in any medium (lava vomit?)

Also probably iffy on crystals and gems. Like, they are shiny and pretty and are sometimes delicate, but man, the massive structures these things can form into is crazy.

Dai Gui reminds me of the colossi in Shadow of the Colossus when viewed just wandering around. We know he acts like a brute and hates petite things, and is quite aggressive when he fights, but there’s something about him that makes me think of some majestic creature that likes to walk around all alone in a wide open space. There is some beauty to his “monstrosity” and I feel like that’s overlooked by him always being described as, well, a brute. 

Although not as intense as Shendu’s, rage can also be a common sight with Dai Gui, but it’s mostly from his non preferred environments. Also, similar to Tchang Zu, Dai Gui appreciates his structural surroundings, but has a more keen interest in its earthly variety. Mountains, canyons, plains, plateaus, mesas, volcanos, deserts, etc. would be his ideal territory. Like I have mentioned before, I feel like he’d often roam around his landscape, constantly fixing and changing anything he desired. 

Even though he doesn’t like flowers and such, I do not think he hates nature in general. Maybe most of it, but not all. He may like huge ass trees for their size and might, grasslands (like savannas) because, although grass is all over, it still gives a vast emptiness of calmness, which deserts give a vast emptiness of despair.

Quick note, I’m not saying he’s artistic and elegant. What I am saying he isn’t just a dumb idiot caveman that just lusts for destruction, but rather actually has a hobby of shaping the earth. Yes, he might find the terrestrial variety of the earth interesting, but he isn’t all, like, “Hmm yes, insert fancy art words here;” he’s more like “Hm yes, me like; I shall do more over there” and then just… does it without any pre planning or anything.

Not only does he like creating earthly structures, but also destroying them. Have you ever built something so cool (or have just seen something so cool) with Legos or whatever, and for some reason want to destroy it just because ‘ha ha destruction fun’? Yeah, that’s him sometimes.

I’d also like to add he likes bugs. Not only eating them, but also admiring their earth shaping tendencies. Their structures won’t stop him from eating them all, but he does like to see what they make before the big snack

I bet he likes to sunbathe sometimes. Mmmmm, warm rocks always feel good. Cool rocks, too! (This also made me think of belly rubs… hmm)

“The Beauty of Incessance”

“Lord High Lord of Earth,” or “Lord High Lord of Formation“

Mount Vesuvius

Po Kong’s kingdom was probably located in Japan, and/or Japan itself

Most likely the one to zone out on meetings with just thoughts on food (ADD maybe?)

Although she’d eat anything, Po Kong probably appreciates and remembers excellent meals. In addition, she probably could describe in detail of various tastes

Or, alternatively, since she eats so much all the food just blends together

Apparently, humans taste like chicken. So maybe, genetically create giant ass chickens, like in Skyrim, and feed her that if humans become scarce and/or too small for satisfaction

Probably the most difficult demon to satisfy, but not just because of hefty demands, but because she is practically the personification of gluttony. Like, I’m sure she can and will eat anything she wants, even inorganic things. She likes it? Nom. She hates it? Nom. She will never be fulfilled until she has consumed all… or until she explodes or whatever. I’m being dramatic. 

Luckily, she is not picky. Unluckily, she is also picky. I guess it just depends on her hunger mood. One day, she may want just a bunch of salty snacks, likes chips and fries, and on another day she may want a giant bundt cake filled with gooey human flesh and blood. 

Legit though, her kingdom/empire would be the number one food place in the entire world, with having the largest kitchen and all the best cooks (ha ha, like a collection. You could say she would have Too Many Cooks, but “too many” doesn’t exist in Po Kong World!). She would have food critics to make sure the meals she really wants to enjoy taste wonderful. Dude, like, imagine Gordon Ramsay and Guy Fieri at her command. She’d laugh her ass off with Ramsay yelling at people and Fieri with all of his antics; they’d be her favorite little humans. Funny, they’d both still be practically doing the job they do now, just being ordered around by a tyrannical demon who also likes food.

Has no interest in video games and picture shows, but does have the interest in the unique food that appears in them and of course demands them to be made for her.

To get on her “good side” is to be absolutely loyal to her and her eating habits. Ya gotta make the best meals, serve them in delightful ways (she actually doesn’t care about any fancy stuff, but appreciates the effort if done right).

I bet she likes getting spoiled. I mean, yeah, all the demons would want gifts rained down upon them, but they wouldn’t express as much glee as Po Kong would. She’d probably sound condescending half the time, but hey, at least she’s happy and smiles. Gotta give her big gifts though. Go big or go home, folks.

Just like us folk, she prefers Maximum Comfort when eating. That means sitting in her favorite chair, eating from her favorite dish, and watching her favorite entertainment pieces.

Ya into vore? She’s your woman *finger guns*

“The Beauty of Indulgence”

“Lord High Lady of the Mountains,” or “Lord High Lady of Beasts“

What do you call a fish without eyes? A Fsh

Bai Tza’s kingdom is factually Atlantis, but in the JCA universe, Atlantis might be close to the southern coast of Europe in the Mediterranean Sea

She’d be the one initially planning family get-togethers  

Do I dare say I could imagine her being a dominatrix? Yeah sure

Similar to Tso Lan, she has/had an isolated kingdom away from humanity, but unlike her brother she most likely had subjects, which lived coastal in southern and south-east Europe, Northern Africa, and the Middle-East. Every civilization took a part in building her castle and its decor, but soon after it was complete, she sank it to the bottom of the Mediterranean Sea, never to be gazed upon with mortal eyes ever again.

Although she can survive in either, Bai Tza prefers warm and salty waters over cool and fresh waters. 

Because of her unique bond with water, which literally has her able to morph to and fro between a liquid and solid state, she probably traveled and oversought numerous locations around the world, with any place being close to warm and salty seas. Did she hold dominion over them? Maybe, seeing as how just the Mediterranean Sea and most of its surrounding land is quite small for a kingdom when compared to her siblings’ territories. 

Bai Tza may not be one of the most powerful siblings, but she is the most feared. She’s able to restrain herself when angry, she thinks outside the box when confronting obstacles, and her dynamism makes her tricky to confront. She is straightforward, blunt, and has a wicked and sharp tongue. Like stated before, she is one of the more outspoken relatives, being very dominant in every activity she takes part in. Wouldn’t surprise me if she was a control freak. However, enjoying her power so much leads her to be arrogant, making her hubris the number one weakness.

Bai Tza is probably the most cruel because she actively thinks about the damage she can cause instead of just doing it. Despite her cruelty, she isn’t heartless; she may in fact be the one that cares about her family the most, with having the most hatred for Shendu because of his betrayal to said family. On a side note with Drago, she probably rejects him mostly for his differences than his relation with Shendu, but of course the latter still counts. So, welcoming those into her tight personal circle would be a ‘no.’ 

Despite her evilness, she can and will compliment things that amuse her, and being super protective of them like personal property.

Would drown ships with anti-demon supporting humans on them, as well as anyone who enters her territory without permission. Probably could be convinced with gifts, but they better be good. 

Theoretically could forgive past mistakes, but they must be made up with something equal or greater amount to said mistake. 

Likes to wear jewelry, especially gold.

“The Beauty of Absolution“

“Lord High Lady of Water,“ or “Lord High Lady of the Abyss“

Froggy

Xiao Fung’s kingdom was probably located in Latin America

One of the smarter siblings, Xiao Fung prefers to discuss and debate over physically fighting. Not sure why, but maybe because he doesn’t view physical fighting as something “high ups” do; all of the dirty work is for the peasants beneath them. However, if forced and there being no other way, he would partake.

Knows the art of conversation quite well and usually dishes out the best conversations. He may not be eloquent like Tchang Zu, or very particular with his words like Tso Lan, but damn can he keep a conversation going if need be. It wouldn’t surprise me if he’d yak with others if he’s bored. Maybe try talking some existential stuff with him; that’d be neat. Or keep asking ‘why’ like an annoying child, and he’d probably be tricked into answering each one, with getting annoyed more and more the longer it all goes on.

Despite his laziness, he still would do activities that require his assistance, as long as it’s something only he can do. If there is someone else available, he’ll leave it to them.

Xiao Fung is probably one of the more “approachable” demons, being how he doesn’t immediately give off  “fear and respect me or die” vibes. He’s still intimidating, but to those with any amount of courage could muster up to confront him. Ya know, if it isn’t anything personal to him, then in that case you’d be the one telling everyone how terrifying he is, also, ya know, if he lets you go back to your village. 

It wouldn’t surprise me if he had decision making issues when it comes to something he likes vs something useful/”right” 

If a human went up to him and made a deal, he most likely would take it as long as he gets something in return that he wants, as well as the odds being in his favor. 

Human antics are strange and insignificant, but they are still intriguing to him and would converse about it. Just don’t think you’d make him change his opinion on us; that won’t happen, fo sho. 

The most forgiving and patient of the family, although it may not be by much. It most likely stems from his diplomatic character, being willing to discuss situations, even thoughts he leans more against. It’s really the subjects she is 100% not on board with he will not discuss, but something around 70%-60% he’d be more willing to listen to. Whether he actually agrees with you and is not just listening for amusement is another story. 

Really enjoys music, favoring well put together orchestral.

Could hold some serious long notes, and probably sing in all sorts of keys (Dude. Singing bass)

Dude probably loves board games like chess.

Tchang Zu and him probably get along well because of shared interests in theatre and strategy games.

Would be the one to bring up topics to get everyone arguing if things got boring, like politics. In addition, he would also bring up playing the “Friendship Ender” games we all know and love, like Uno and Monopoly.

While Hsi Wu carries the “shit eating smile,” Xiao Fung has the “smug cat” face.

“The Beauty of Disruption“

“Lord High Lord of Wind,“ or “Lord High Lord of Currents“

Bonus Factoids Upon my Research

Theoretically, because it is stated that the Twelves Talismans are physical manifestations/vessels of Shendu’s powers, the other eight sorcerers (this includes Drago) could have their own Twelves Talismans

Apparently, killing/destroying a demon causes the disruption of balance within the universe, causing a “stronger evil“ to manifest and fill that “wound.“ So, again, theoretically, could a “stronger good“ happen as well if a situation summons/calls for it??

Sadly, according to Shendu, the all chi-absorption thing Drago did at the end of Season 5 is irreversible. So, canonically, Drago is technically forever stuck as a Cthulhu abomination. I am forever sad. Like, yeah I’m a terato lover, but I really prefer Drago as normal :’( However, Shendu answered to a human using a man-made chi spell. What if the actual Demon Sorcerers did a chi spell, to which apparently is conductible without external means? Could they be powerful enough to reverse it if all of them worked together???

[Chinese and English Name/Japanese Name- Chinese Translation/Japanese Translation]

Hsi Wu/Tokage- Evil Lizard/Small Lizard

Tso Lan/Kyuketsuki- Flood maker/ Vampire

Shendu/Kiryu- God of All (oof)/Spirit Dragon

Tchang Zu/Oni- Soldier of Madness/Ogre

Dai Gui/Shishi- Great Ogre/Stone Lion

Po Kong/Daikaiju- Feared Cliff/Giant Monster

Bai Tza/Nisei- Force of Defeat/Second Generation

Xiao Fung/Keroro- Little Wind/Frog

Early Christmas gift to y’all :V

God I hope this is good enough. I’ve been spending all my free time working on these guys just to get the original ask done. Don’t get me wrong, I did like doing this and forming at least some kind of unique character with each, but I am so exhausted from how long I’ve been working on it. It’s mainly my fault for being such a try hard, so don’t blame yourself, Anon who asked for this; you all good, bruv.

[fenweak]

High School AUs

College/University AUs

⭐ A+ fics (imho) | All of the recs

High School AUs

High Scores by popfly ⭐

Kaner is a DDR master, Jonny is ultra-competitive. Bollig just wants to make out with Shawzy.

Dynamical Systems by jezziejay ⭐ - math geek patrick! jock jonny!

Jonny’s plenty smart, but there’s hockey practice just before a double math period every Tuesday and Wednesday morning. He gets to class on time. Physically, he’s there. But his mind is still on the ice. Throw in a kidney infection that keeps him home for two weeks, and Jonny’s struggling. Not failing, but that C is dragging his GPA down, and his mom is making clucking noises. The same noises that mean hockey time is coming up for review.

There’s a note on the student boards advertising tutoring.

promise i'm worthy (to hold in your arms) [One and Only series] - teenage angst and american douchebags ft. ryan kesler

"So come on and give me a chance to prove I am the one who can walk that mile."

love is a contact sport by hazel, mermaid  ⭐ - high school soulmates!

"And the tragic reality of Patrick's life is that even though they broke up over a year ago, he and Johnny still play beautiful hockey together."

A high school AU, featuring dream-fish, bad movie dates, and a little bit of magic.

Movie Nights or Five Times Jonny Wanted Popcorn (and One Time He Didn’t) by CoffeeKristin

Patrick had only been working at the movie theater a few weeks when a noisy bunch of boys from his high school burst through the doors just before the last showing of Captain America: Civil War and come tumbling into the lobby, whooping it up. He sighed and put down the containers of popcorn he was counting, mentally preparing himself for the asshattery he was likely to endure.

“What can I get you?” he asked the crowd, and true to form, no one was listening so he waited another moment. Finally one of the boys got pushed to the front, stumbling into the counter. “Fuck, Duncs, not so hard,” he said, and oh. That was Jonathan Toews: Captain of the high school soccer team, president of the student council, son of the mayor. Basically, everything Patrick wasn’t.

do it how you want it done ⭐

(very vaguely) grease-inspired high school au.

yeah, i went there.

kissing your honeyed eyes by forochel

The one that's the British boarding school AU.

This Is What A Love Song Sounds Like by fourfreedoms  ⭐ - reunion fic but god the flashbacks! the angst!

When he came out after his freshman year of college his mother said she’d always known, and he’d had to fight down the bizarre wave of paranoia that maybe everybody knew, maybe they’d all just been letting him sweat all those years. It was crazy of course, there was only one person who’d known, who had any idea.Patrick Kane.

Ten years after they fucked around in high school, Patrick and Jonny meet back up at their high school reunion.

roll with it by hazel  ⭐

The one where a bunch of Blackhawks inexplicably go to boarding school, Tazer is the world's meanest DM, and Pat doesn't know why anyone would think cutting the head off a hydra was good idea.

Light Me Up by sahiya - where they both went to Shattuck!

Being serious about hockey always meant Patrick would have to leave home. For a long time he thought it would be for juniors and a billet family. But things don't go as planned, and he finds himself at Shattuck-St. Mary's.

His roommate's name is Jonathan Toews. He can't keep his water bottles on his side of the room, and he's unfortunately, stupidly hot. Because Patrick's life sucks.

boot theory by mentalistecbm - teen angst, break up

Everyone knows that they're broken up.

glory days by liketheroad ⭐ - soulmate, teen angst

He never expected his destiny to involve anything but hockey, never thought it would show up in flip flops, but when Patrick smiles at him across the locker room, quick and surprised, Johnny lets his priorities shift and change without a hint of reluctance or regret.

There's Only Blood Running In My Veins by mikarala - pwp

Patrick and Jonny are making out in Patrick’s bedroom when Jonny says it. “I--I,” he stutters out, in between a moan, “I want you to fuck me.”

Gold Seeking Ends by liveinfury - Flipped AU

“Wanna go on the tire swing with me after?” Jonny asks.

“No,” Patrick answers.

“Oh,” Jonny says, looking deflated. “What about the jungle gym?”

“Nope."

“Um, okay,” Jonny says, shrugging before walking away.Sam giggles some more. “I can’t believe Jonny, the dirt eater, likes you.”Patrick smirks at him. “Everyone likes me.”

(or Patrick and Jonny meet in the second grade. Jonny's instantly smitten, Patrick is...not. Ten years later, things start flipping.)

Keep Calm and Don't Think of Star Wars podfic by exmanhater ⭐ - A Clueless AU

After I once again assure Abby that Johnny and I are not, NOT related (by googling the difference between half-brother and stepbrother because jesus fucking christ am I am the only knowledgeable one around here?), she agrees to help.

but i can write a song 

“We’re not going to be called Jonny and the Patricks,” Jonny says, sounding entirely too put upon  about a name that’s clearly awesome.

[or; the high school band au you probably didn't ask for]

lost in brightness - pat, jon and a crowded train

“You’re gonna get caught one day,” Jonny sighs, herding Pat in front of him as they squeeze onto  the train, the crowd thicker than usual. It’s been raining on and off, fall well and truly taking the city in  its grasp. Jonny’s already looking forward to meeting Pat by his house every morning, red-cheeked  and rugged up, his face barely visible between his toque and scarf.

you're mending what's broken - a stats nerd Patrick story

The guy who sits behind Jonny in AP Stats wants to know how  many shots on goal he had last Tuesday. Or at least, that's how it starts.

A high school AU featuring stats nerd Kaner and his Tragic Hockey  Backstory (TM), without much time or inclination toward actual tragedy. Instead there is  discussion of Corsi. And kissing.

Examine Other Beauties by kiwoa - theater kids!

"I," Jonny says, and he slips his headset up from around his neck to nestle over his ears, "am not an actor."

"Good thing I don't need you to act."

"No."

"Jonny."

"Patrick."

"Please?" Kaner cants forward and tilts his face up to blink at Jonny. In the fluttering light that filters in from the stage, his eyes look unnaturally pale. "Just read the lines, okay? I want to see how well I've memorized them."

Jonny scrubs a hand over his face. The motion knocks his mike askew. "One scene."

A/S/L  ⭐ - 90s teenaged kids meeting on webcam omg

The internet is a dangerous place, or:

Patrick and Jonny meet, lie through their teeth, and fall in love. Mostly that last part.

Actual Prom King Brandon Saad by popfly  ⭐

Patrick might be a little jealous of the new kid.

Sure Brandon is basically the prom king from every feel-good teenage movie Patrick’s sisters have made him watch, but that doesn’t mean Jonny wants that.

Sign it with your heart by tictactoews + podfic by exmanhater  ⭐

Patrick loses a bet and is dared to plant an anonymous love letter into a random locker. It just so happens that the locker belongs to one Jonathan Toews, captain of the school hockey team.Meanwhile, Jonny finds himself in need of a math tutor, and following the advice of his teacher, he asks the new kid, Patrick Kane, for help.

a complicated kindness by liketheroad - young and figuring out d/s  ⭐

Patrick still remembers how scared Sharpy looked, just for a second there. He remembers not understanding why anyone would back away from Johnny when he was like that, why they wouldn’t want to strain closer, pushing to see how much further he’d go.

What Comes Easy by impertinence - summer camp of angst

Kaner's determined to never grow up; Tazer's determined to grow up as quickly as possible. Over eleven years of summer camp, they learn to meet in the middle. Set in stlkrchk's Camp Quaquanantuck universe.

mathletes are totally athletes by ukiyo91, yukonecho

Mathlete Patrick Kane never thought that when he was assigned to tutor hockey jock Jonathan Toews that he would be swept up into a new sport...or into Captain Serious.

Toews was like the guild leader Patrick had always aspired to be in WoW, but more of an asshole.

i'll be the embrace that keeps you warm by longtime_lurker - huddling for warmth

It is like death, but it is not death; lovelier. / Cold, inconvenienced, late, what will you do now / with the gift of your left life?

Clumsy by CoffeeKristin - a short first kiss fic uwu

“Knock it off,” she hissed at him. “He’s looking at you!”

“Who?” Patrick said, his head swiveling around, resulting in Erica smacking him again. “Hey! Quit hitting me!”

“Then quit being an idiot,” she huffed. “Jonny Toews, you dunce. He’s looking over here, and you’re biting on the string of your hoodie like a moron.”

look around once in a while by achilleees

One man’s struggle to take it easy.

Based off of “Ferris Bueller’s Day Off,” but instead of girlfriends and daddy issues, there’s hockey and pining. And daddy issues.

Summer Lovin' by CoffeeKristin - est. relationship insecurities

Patrick's home from summer camp, and Jonny's first on his list of to-do's. Somehow a little actual angst/plot worked it's way in. But mostly it's just porn.

Ninety-Nine Point Three Percent by jimtiberiuskirk - best friends mutually pining

The problem is, is that Patrick is 99.3% sure that Jonny knows all about his giant, embarrassing man-crush on him.

bring it if you really want it by staraflur - harry potter AU

It starts like this:

Well, okay, Patrick has no idea how it actually starts. But as pertains to him (in other words, the important part), it goes a little something like so:

America, being a nation composed in large part of a melting pot of immigrants who may or may not have taken over land already owned by others using less-than-savory means, doesn’t have much of a magical national identity. Much less a magical continental identity. There’s no grand heritage going back thousands of years. Magical families home-schooled all their kids until, like, the 1800’s, and tough for the muggle-born, apparently. Hopefully you got noticed by someone who knew what to do with you before you got burned at the stake. Since you probably can’t control your powers, sport.

(if you're feeling down) i can feel you up by hawkeytime

"Hey," Patrick said appreciatively from behind where Jonny stood, stoic as always, by the side of the pool. "Did you sit in a pile of sugar? Because you have a sweet ass.”Or: How Patrick Kane spent his summer hitting on the hot lifeguard with the help of some inspired (read: awful) pickup lines.

kiss and tell by hawkeytime 

“Trust me,” Sharpy says, “this will be good for you.”And then, he shoves Jonny into what appears to be a mostly empty coat closet and slams the door shut behind him.

“What the fuck, Sharp!” Jonny calls, pounding at the door which is, of course, locked.

“Enjoy your seven minutes in heaven, Tazer,” Sharpy singsongs.Then, the bare bulb mounted on the ceiling flares to life, illuminating one Patrick Kane.

Fuck.

i know you are (but what am i) by booktubelover7 - always a girl!pat

Pat throws up her arms in celebration after Toews makes a beautiful goal off of Pat’s assist. She crows in celebration as Toews slams into her, shouting in her ear.

Pat’s playing, she’s playing, she’s playing. Not just that, but she’s winning too.When her line gets back to the bench, Pat leans over to speak into Toews’ ear. “Thank you,” she says. Her teammate just turns his head to look at her, a grin spreading across his face.

Love or Torture - a/b/o

Patrick Kane is too short, too Omega, and his heat too delayed for him to play hockey. Jonathan Toews has a plan to bring glory to both of them.

keep buying the stars by medusacascade22- teacher!Jonny 

“Fuck,” Jonny groans. He props his elbows up on his desk and lets his head fall into his hands. It’s going to be a long fucking year.

(or, in which Jonathan Toews is Patrick Kane's teacher, and shit gets real.)

College/Uni AUs

cello suite no. 1 - THIS IS ONE IS A CLASSIC 👌

The first time Jonathan meets Patrick Kane is because he hits him with a lacrosse ball.

In Jonathan's defense, he threw a perfect pass to Seabs, who failed to just reach the one or two feet above his head to catch it.

"Oh shit," Jonathan says when he watched the ball arc across the lawn and whack a blond kid squarely between his shoulder blades.

"Heads up!" he calls belatedly.

this is how we do it series by staraflur ⭐ - frat bros AU!!!

He doesn’t think Zeus is supposed to have a sword, but their Zeus does. So now Jonny does, because of course he’s in charge. He looks, Patrick is drunk enough to acknowledge, far better than anyone has a right to in a grody old Halloween costume that’s probably soaked up the butt sweat of dozens, if not hundreds, of Theta-presidents past. Jonny wears it, Patrick gets the sword. Win-win.

AKA that time there was a frat AU (of course).

This Heart Is Not For Wasting by fourfreedoms - oblivious best friends

Patrick puts his head in his hands. “How could this get any worse?”

“Wait, it’s not like, a big deal is it?” Duncs asks, looking at him and Jonny in turn. “The way you and Jonny are weird about each other? She’s gotta have made her peace with it ages ago.”

A college AU.

love song for love songs by boodreaus  ⭐ - angst, internalized homophobia

“Right,” Jonny says. “Cool.” He seems to hesitate, pausing when Patrick goes for the door handle, and then, right as Patrick’s bracing himself to run for the house, Jonny says, “You should come.”

Patrick turns back at him and is handed a piece of paper. “To our next show, I mean,” Jonny is saying as Patrick examines what turns out to be a flyer, thick black lettering taking up every square inch of space on the brilliant sunshine-colored surface. “It’s tomorrow night, at the showcase. Feel free to say yes or no or whatever. If you don’t know, it’s cool.”

“I’ll,” Patrick starts, and then stops, blinking up at him. Jonny’s just watching him, kind of, elbow resting on the steering wheel. “Maybe,” he finally says, and Jonny smiles.

yet we will make him run - some more angst, except more erudite

Kaner the English Lit major AU.

Sigma Chi series by hatrickane - frat bros hook up and then angst about it

Jonny and Patrick run into each other at a frat party. Patrick proposes a way to pass the time.

Can't Wait by LouLa - first time pwp

Pat's on a hair trigger.

when you flex like that - hookup in a frat party

Johnny isn’t drunk, but he does let Sharpy and a couple of frat-looking guys he doesn’t even know talk him into a contest of shots. It’s Sharpy’s fault — he appeals to the competitive side he knows Johnny can’t let go of at the best of times, and one of the guys, blonde curls, a lazy smirk of a grin, picks up on it pretty fast too.

Hope you don't mind by haroldslouis

“Oh, sorry, man,” the guy says, giving him a quick grin. “Thought you were someone else.” He taps the visor of Patrick’s snapback and just like that, he turns around and disappears into the crowd.Patrick doesn’t know how long he stands there, just looking at the general direction he disappeared in.

or, 5 times Jonny mistook Patrick for someone else + 1 time he definitely didn't

Room 4 Rent

Patrick stares at the ad for a while, clicking back and forth between the Craigslist page and his  fantasy hockey league, chewing on his bottom lip.

3 bedroom apartment near Loyola. One room available, others occupied by two male students.  Shared living room and kitchen. Two bathrooms. Rent split three ways. Email tazer19@gmail.com  or call 773-639-7812 for more info. No texts please.

are you buying what i'm selling? - frat party buddies

The Sigma Chi Halloween Bash is in a week, Jonny’s holding two tickets, and he has nobody to go with.

He had a somebody to go with, until that somebody decided Jonny’s student athlete life wasn’t worth  hanging around for. Their relationship was already tanking anyway; Jonny’s more upset about  potentially wasting a $40 ticket than that shit ending. Whatever.

Just A Spark by heartstrings  ⭐ - magical realism!

In a desperate attempt to hide his feelings from the object of his affections, Patrick accidentally drinks a love potion that causes the people around him to fall for him. Too bad it seems to work on everyone but Jonny.

do you know who you are? by liveinfury - frat bros

“Sure, Cap. I’ll try to keep it quiet.” Patrick winks at Jonny. “But be honest, you like the noises I make, huh?”

“What? Of course not!" Jonny sputters. "I’m not gay!”

(or where Jonny can't figure out why he feels so uneasy when Patrick brings guys home to their frat house).

The Great Desk Assembly Project - they were roommates

“I’m going to nail some shit,” he says. “Jonny, come watch me nail some shit.”

“We share a room, I don’t need to watch you nail anything else.”

“That’s not what you were saying last night,” Pat says with a laugh in his voice. He reaches back  behind him and punches Jonny in the shoulder for good measure.

No, It's Not A Secret by SimoneClouseau ⭐ - always a girl Jonny 

Hey, hey, you, you, I don't like your boyfriend. No way, no way. I think you need a new one.

Jehanne Toews is dating a loser. Sometimes it takes a ridiculous awesome young star on the Blackhawks to see the light.

good form - always a girl Pat!  ⭐ 

“Best head of your life?”

“Yes, he was better than you, you competitive motherfucker.” Hayds says it like it’s a joke, like it’s funny, like it’s not the single most devastating thing a girl could say to Pat.

“A hockey bro gave you the best head of your goddamn life? Am I in the fucking Upside Down?”

“Believe it, baby. Jonathan Toews: hockey bro and magical pussy-eating wizard.”

forever i'll try for you and i by staraflur - always girls Jon and Pat!

It’s extra great—whenever Jo’s losing, she always makes like their running point tally competition isn’t real. Tonight’s true to form: when Trish holds up three fingers and points at herself, then two before pointing at Jo, Jo actually scoffs as she pokes at a couple chicken breasts with the tongs, trying to find the best one.

remedial at love - jonny ‘i'm great at math but the math tutor's really hot so i'm gonna pretend i'm not' toews

There have been a lot of things Kaner’s done that could be considered suspect. He chose the  Backstreet Boys over Nsync for the Kane Dance-Off Championship when he was 15. He opted to go  to Disneyland instead of Disney World for his high school graduation present. He frosted his tips after  coming out in 12th grade because he thought that was like, the obvious thing to do until he realized  this was not, in actuality, the 90s.

But this one. Calling up ‘Jtoews’ and requesting tutelage in math when he was a fucking wiz at math  was -- the most highly suspect of all.

Drink yourself under, fuck yourself over by Mythisea

Jonathan Toews is the sophomore captain of the college hockey team. Patrick Kane recently quit hockey before coming to college.

Jonny thinks Patrick would be perfect on his wing. Patrick would rather be drinking. Jonny does not approve.

Make The Moves Up As I Go by agirlnamedfia - tutor!Jonny with a dash of angst and pining

Patrick has his first Econ 202 class on the second day of the spring semester. It doesn’t exactly go well.

how to make boys-next-door out of assholes series by bessyboo, thisissirius - textfic

Yo man, Sharpy's having a party tonight. You up for it or you gonna be a boring shit and study???

it's only you and me by crystaljules - graduation blues

"We're so fucking stupid."

Overdosed on Confidence by runphoebe ⭐ - fwb, internalized homophobia

“Someone could -,” Jonny starts, breaking off when Patrick ducks down to draw Jonny’s lips against his, kissing him fever-hot and wet and desperate. Jonny’d be embarrassed by how hungrily he responds, but he knows Pat’s into it, moaning unashamedly into Jonny’s mouth when he tightens a hand around Pat’s neck. “Someone could see,” he finally gets out, voice rough, when Patrick pulls back, as if Patrick’s supposed to believe that that’s any sort of protest.

Patrick licks his lips, the hint of a smirk playing at the corners of them in that familiar way like when Patrick's got a particularly bad idea on his mind. “Guess you better be quick then, huh?” he says cryptically, waggling his eyebrows at Jonny. Jonny’s a second away from rolling his eyes and asking what he means when Patrick slithers off Jonny’s lap and onto his knees on the floor beneath Jonny’s table and - oh. Oh.

Silence Gives You Space by liveinfury - pining, misunderstandings

“Have you been avoiding me?”

“’Course not,” Patrick says. “I’m just letting you do your own thing.”

“My own thing?”

“Yeah, didn’t want to crowd your space,” Patrick blurts out. Fuck, he didn’t mean to actually say that.“You’re not…”

“Cool.”

tuck you in - getting together

“You sexiled again?" He smirks and stuffs down the fondness that rolls  through him at theway Jonny’s hair is rumpled and a little bit wavy.

Jonny sits up slowly, groaning. “Yeah. Fuck, this is the third time in a week  and a half.”

obvious from the start - radio DJs Pat and Jon!

It’s not like Patrick even likes radio, because he hasn’t really listened to  anything that’s not on his iPod or his Pandora stations in years, but when he notices the red and  white flyer advertising the student radio station on the ground, he picks it up with the  excuse that he’s trying to be environmentally friendly.When he played hockey they told Patrick that he was too small, too short to  be a hockeyplayer; that he’d never make it because of his size. Hockey is, was, his heart  and soul, and he’d put years and years of his life into the one thing he knew he was good  at; threw his very being into the best he could be to prove that he can do it, be the best,  even if he was small.

Patrick supposes maybe he'll find something else that he’s just as good at.

stupid college boys series by 19trash88 - Jonny is the cute guy from Econ class

Patrick’s not one to wax poetic about a penis, but if ever there was a reason to, Jonathan Toews’ cock would be at the top of the list.

Green Light by heartstrings - friends to lovers

Patrick knows two things: he likes sex and he likes Jonny. If Jonny's newly single there's no reason not to combine the two. Right?

Everybody Wants to Touch Some(body Paragraphs) by Kerfluffle  ⭐

Wherein Jonny writes the worst essay ever, and weirdness abounds.

Motivation by somethingnerdythiswaycomes  ⭐ - pwp

Only Jonny could keep working on his LIT-110 paper while Patrick was getting himself off next to him. Fuck, but Patrick loved him so much.

Muse series by by somethingnerdythiswaycomes

So Jonny had applied for every damn job he was qualified for, even the "life model" one TJ goaded him into.So Jonny had received an email the next day asking for his availability to come in for a session.So, as it turned out, it wasn’t some random chick that was going to draw him. It was some random dude.

So "life model" apparently meant "nude model."

You Love Me, I Love You Harder So by leyley09 - overly competitive boys on the hockey team

Patrick circles around him at center ice. “Jonathan, my team is going to kick your team’s ass so hard your parents will be embarrassed without even knowing why.”“I’m gonna give you a lesson in goal scoring you’ll never forget.”“Toews, you couldn’t give me a lesson in long distance spitting. Anything you can do, I can do better.”“Oh yeah?”“I can do anything better than you.”

Jonathan Toews is used to be being the best. He has zero clue what to do with competition.

Especially when the competition is cute.

middle ground by boodreaus - college road trip, friends to lovers

Jonny, Patrick, and an excellent adventure.

Who Knew by themistrollsin

Jonathan and Patrick meet after they're forced to go to a party by their best friends (Adam and Brent respectively).

Night Moves by heartstrings - meetcute

After a series of unfortunate drunk events that lead him from falling into a snowbank to being laughed at by the police, Jonny meets Patrick in an elevator.

Ignite My Fire, Object Of My Desire by ThalassicThedes ⭐- theater boys!!!

A good ol' fashioned College Au in which the college itself is hardly even mentioned. Just... make of this what you will.

absolute beginners by heartstrings, thundersquall

That time Jonny walked into a diner and accidentally got himself a temporary fake boyfriend.

Like A Classic - royalty!Jonny

So: due to a series of complicated and improbable events involving some sort of life debt and signed promise from two generations ago, it was decreed that Patrick had to marry the Crown Prince of Canada.

Captain Oblivious by wantstothrill - royalty!Pat

Why would Jonny care about the American royal family visiting his university? He's Canadian. He hasn't paid any attention to Prince Patrick since he was a teenager. He's more concerned with the very hot guy he's just run into, who's name also happens to be Patrick. What a coincidence.

+

check out the high school AUs tag aaand the college AUs tag @ 1988rebloggedfic!

[kerwritesthings]

Walking Hand in Hand

Summary: It’s been a long time coming, but when the moment is right you cannot help but say yes

Word Count: 2,120

Warnings: a whole lot of fluff and feels

Author Notes: This story, this part kind of was always a thing for me. I knew that I wanted to get them here. It niggled at me when I was writing the first part, I just needed to get them there the right way. I did entirely too much research on the fashion of this and yes, they’re legit items I found. #thedevilsinthedetails

This was another one of those sit down and words just came type pieces. Another 2k in about two hours. It’s crazy. I love this little ‘verse of mine so much. It’s brought my muse back from her mini hibernation that hit prior to the holidays. I want to work on my own original piece, but she wants to play with Shawn. So, I’m not going to tell her no. First part, second part, third part all linked up here.

There was an underlying purpose to this trip, aside from getting to spend time outside the bitter cold during the dead of winter in the sunshine of the west coast. It was the start of the season, and this was a big one, so finally you were going to be a part of the hoopla with him.

You weren’t a secret – it never, ever was that from moment one with the two of you. You just made a conscious decision, that he completely supported you on, to not be in the spotlight like that. You would be there, for everything and anything he ever asked you to be present for, but there was never the need to be the draped accessory or be out wildly in front of the cameras on a red carpet. You also wanted it to remain about him, the music, his hard work. Not who he was sleeping with. He respected you, respected that decision. It also gave you a sense of security when you were first together, with your own non-industry professional goals and blossoming career, that you weren’t ‘that girl’ with Shawn Mendes.  

But now, with how important this last album was, the scope of all the nominations, and with what you two were settling into, where it was all heading with your relationship, you made the decision. And this time, it was an easy one: it was a yes. His eyes went wide when you told him, his lips half quirked in smile before tackle hugging you.

Fast forward to the day before the awards, and you’re sitting cross-legged in just one of his sweaters and a pair of boy shorts on the floor of a lofty studio in West Hollywood.

“Do you need help back there?” you call, fighting back a laugh. “It’s a suit and you’re a boy, it should not take you that long to get ready.”

He sticks his head out from behind the shoji, shoulders still bare and blows a raspberry at you. You stick your tongue out at him in retaliation.

“Unless you’re planning on using it, I wouldn’t do that,” he says with a shit-eating grin.

“Enough with you, get that suit on already,” a voice calls out from the opposite side of the room.

“Now you’re getting me in trouble,” he exaggeratedly pouts and flicks back behind the screen. “I’ll remember this.”

You can’t help but roll your eyes at him as the owner of that stern voice plops down on the floor next to you, patting your knee.

“I’m so glad we get to play together on this,” Tiff starts. “I know he’s trying to play it all cool but let me tell you he’s been buzzing a special way about this one. Had to be way more hands on to what he was wearing. Couldn’t clash with what you were thinking. He kept telling me he had to look good for you and had to be the good arm candy for you tomorrow night.”

You can’t help but flush. This man of yours.

“Don’t worry,” she continues. “He knows nothing. I just made sure you two would look good together for photos. He kept trying to press on a color, any type of details. I told him it’s a dress.”

You both giggle. The stylist kindly offered her help, the two of you back and forth over emails and late-night texts what you wanted, what you didn’t, colors, whose style did you like. There was one designer that was a total pipe dream, you thought there was no way, but luckily one email and a lovely conference call later, dream became reality. You had one fitting while he was still away on the last show swing, a whirlwind day in the brightly lit townhouse you had only seen on Instagram. The rest would be handled here in LA with the team and with Tiff.

“You know it was more because you’ve been making your own name outside of his, yeah?” she explains. “Being with this pain in the ass was just the added bonus. Plus, first carpet look? That’s a getter.”

“Ladies, I’m right here you know,” he calls out. “Hey Tiff, can you help…”

She scurries to her feet and heads behind to him, “Wait wait, please don’t fuck anything up!”

“Am I seeing this today or waiting until tomorrow?” you ask, stretching your legs and wiggling your toes. A mani/pedi was on tap for later, prepping your feet for the destruction of the strappy heels awaiting you.

“Am I seeing yours today?” he replies in turn.

“Not the same. Other than less bed head, and probably more bling, you’re gonna look the same tomorrow. Me, I need all the glam help I can get. Pineapple hair and a couture gown do not go together, my darling,” you say.

He sticks a hand out from the shoji, flipping you off.

“Remind me why I agreed to do this?” you sigh, flopping back on the floor.

“Cause you love me. Or at least I think you do,” he quips.

You hear him murmuring to Tiff. He’s probably trying to get any final details out of her while making sure he’s got his look on lock.

Next thing you know, Tiff is back and pulling you up off the floor towards the other side of the studio, “Your turn!”

The gasp you let go when you see the final dress, it’s perfect. You can’t wait.

You stay downtown that night, easier to get ready and even easier to get to the carpet. It’s quiet, just the two of you. Room service and a fluffy bed.

“Thank you,” he whispers into your temple you both settle into down into the duvet, his one arm coming around to hold you tighter to him, feeling his breath tickle your face. “I know I probably have said it before, but I want to say it again. Thank you, and I love you. More than I can even explain. I’m so fucking happy you’re here and that I get to have you tomorrow for this.”

“Need to be able to kiss my man when he wins his first Grammy,” you say softly before pressing your lips against his jaw. “It’s me and you versus the world, right? So, we may as well let the world really know that, yeah?”

He kisses you, slow and soft and deep, like it’s the only thing he’s ever wanted to do.

“Only and always me and you versus the world, baby,” he murmurs against your lips.

Your suite is a buzz the next day, you are whisked away to the bedroom while Shawn is exiled to the sitting room for you both to start getting ready.

“Love you,” you mouth before the door shuts.

After a few hours of primping, curling, shuffling, squeezing, a few happy tears and a whole lot of singing along to your boyfriend’s album, which causes him to call through the door a few times making fun of you, you’re finally ready.

Tiff sneaks back into your room to help with the finishing touches on your dress.

“He’s trying not to pace, but he’s antsy as anything. God help us on your wedding day,” she exhales, sliding the last eye hook closed on your dress.

You turn to look at her, jaw dropping slightly.

“Shit, shit I’m sorry. But like girl come on, you know that’s where this is headed. He’s talked about it too you know. You’re endgame,” she says, squeezing your elbow. “This dress is perfection. He’s not going to know what hit him. Lemme go make sure he’s not wearing out the carpet.”

You take a deep breath, count to ten and put your hand on the door handle.

“You ready out there?” you call out.

“For like the last hour, baby,” he replies. “Come out, come out wherever you are!”

Sliding out from behind the door, your eyes lock. You always knew he was beautiful, unfairly gorgeous, but tonight is something else. He’s in black, head to toe minus the hint of the deeper shimmering grey in his shirt and the silvery shine glimmering from around his neck. The jacket though is something else, a subtle black on black snakeskin pattern with a shawl collar. His hair, the perfect riotous mess of loops and swirls of his curls.

“So, this is how my rockstar cleans up for the big night? You’re so handsome, Shawn. This is such a look,” you say as you make your way to him, hands lightly sliding up then down the front of his jacket, before tangling your fingers with his. He’s just looking at you, blinking, not saying anything, his thumbs a soothing rhythm over the tops of your hands. Then he takes a step back, still leaving your hands tangled.

“I am the luckiest. You look, like you’re always pretty and gorgeous and lovely. You know I think that. But you’re just, you’re this. God, I don’t even think I can figure out the right words,” he babbles, holding you at arm’s length to take you in. “This dress, you. You’re a fucking vision. It’s so perfectly you.”

“Cause it’s a custom Siriano,” you hear Tiff chime in. It’s everything you ever wished for in a dress. You knew your first time out on a carpet, the last thing you wanted was splashes of color or massive attention, but you still wanted to look good next to Shawn. Black and gunmetal grey interwoven, with the scalloped beading on the skirt and a swath of black chiffon to soften the top. Not too form fitting, not too much cleavage but enough to make you look feminine, feel sexy. Enough to be worthy of the man standing in front of you.

His eyes widen and you nod bashfully.

“Tiff’s work, all her help. I was happy with whatever and off a rack at that, but she asked for a wish list. She went right for the top,” you explain. “I still can’t believe it.”

“We’re sending him a case of champagne tomorrow,” he says to Tiff. “Now, can just I have a moment with my girl before the world takes us?”

Everyone scurries around the room and Shawn pulls you into the bedroom, door shutting with a click.

“I’m glad you don’t have sticky lipstick on yet to fuck up,” he mutters before slinging his arm around your waist and pulls you in for a bruising kiss.

“I guess you hate it, then?” you laugh, kissing him briefly and softly again.

“Ok, one more then we need to stop or we’re going to have some problems. Well, no I’ll have some problems. Plus, the girls will want to powder the two of us to death before we go and gloss you out most likely. Which we should get moving anyway. Sooner we’re there, less hoopla to navigate around on the carpet,” he says, opening the door to pull you both back out into the main room.

He’s right. There’s more powder, some tugging and straightening, more scent sprayed about and a swipe of lipstick for you before you are shuffling downstairs to the waiting car. Staying close to the venue, the ride isn’t long despite the lineup of cars ahead of you. Your nerves start to kick in a little, worrying at the seam of your bag with your index finger.

“Breathe for me baby,” he says, snagging your hand to intertwine with his. “Promise you, it won’t be that bad. First one is always a bit of a shock to the system, but it’s nothing more than a fancy little walk is all. ‘Cept this time, I get to be hand in hand with my favorite person.”

You look over, his smile easing some of the tension sitting in your chest.

“Shawn, what if…” you begin.

“Nope, there’s none of that. Not ever and especially not tonight. Not when you and I look like a fucking power couple,” he drops a kiss to your knuckles. “This is just a fancier date night, just happens to be a couple hundred more people on it with us is all.”

You can’t help the laugh that bubbles up, “I love you.”

“Love you too, baby. As much as I love this dress, I really cannot wait to take you out of it later,” he says, dusting a light kiss to your neck just below your ear just as the car pulls to a stop and you hear a knock against the car window. “You ready? I’m going to be right there. You and me.”

You lean in to rub your nose against his gently just before the door opens, “Always you and me.”

TAG LIST: @loveat2am​, @sinplisticshawn​, @hollandraul​, @whenidance​

[louvel-roche]

∞ for any!

Makoto:

If I Think They Are: Ugly || Plain || Alright || Cute || Freaking Adorable || Pretty || Beautiful || Hot || Stunning 

“I’ve always found Makoto to be surprisingly handsome for a Hyur. Maybe that’s insensitive to say, but the rest of them all sort of… blend together? He stands out, maybe in part do to the tattoos he has. It’s hard not to admire that kind of art work, and he has a face worthy of a canvas.”

If I Would Go On A Date With Them: Not even if we were the last two one earth || No || Maybe? || Eh….Sure || Yes || WILL YOU MARRY ME

“Depends on if we’re talking a romantic date, or something platonic. He’s interesting enough to talk to once you get him going on the right subjects. I don’t think I’d be against a few hours of conversation and a meal; with or without drug use.”

If I Trust Them: Not At All || Not Really || Kind of || Yes || With My Life

“I haven’t been given any reason not to trust him up to this point, and of the people I work with at Priarch, he’s strangely one of the few I feel I can reliably trust. I might not always agree with him, but compared to the rest of us, he seems to make decent decisions at the very least.”

If I Care About Them: Not At All || Not Really || Kind of || Yes || Deeply

“I don’t wish any harm upon him, if that’s what you mean. I’d like to think Makoto is something of a friend, so clearly, that means I’m supposed to care at least a little, right? That’s how that works, isn’t it?”

If I Would Sleep With Them: Not Enough Alcohol in the World || No || Maybe if I were wasted || Maybe || Eh…Sure || Yes || TAKE YOUR CLOTHES OFF NOW!

“I cannot even begin to think of how or why this would ever come up. He’s spoken for, I’m spoken for, and men generally aren’t my type.”

My Comfort Level With Your Muse: Keep a Distance || Okay You Can Stand There, But Don’t Touch Me || Let’s Get Coffee and Talk || Let’s Cuddle || I Can Change In Front of You || Let’s Take a Bath Together

“Maybe it’s because I trust him enough to buy drugs from him, but generally I think I’m more comfortable around Makoto than half my other coworkers. He’s made it clear that he knows how to respect boundaries, and honestly that’s all I can really ask for. I’m grateful for it.”

If I See You As: A Stranger || An Acquaintance || A Friend || A Close Friend || My Best Friend || A Crush || The Love of My Life

“I’ve said it once already; I considered Makoto a friend. I can’t say we’re particularly close friends, but we could get there eventually.”

Maya/Wren:

If I Think They Are: Ugly || Plain || Alright || Cute || Freaking Adorable || Pretty || Beautiful || Hot || Stunning

“As far as Miqo’te go, she’s not bad to look at. I might have a slight biased towards Keepers of the moon though. She has a bad habit of wearing exceptionally distracting outfits to work, and I still can’t tell if it’s intentional, or just some weird cultural thing I’ve never picked up on. Doesn’t look half bad with her hair and make-up all fucked up though.”

If I Would Go On A Date With Them: Not even if we were the last two one earth || No || Maybe || Eh….Sure || Yes || WILL YOU MARRY ME

“I’m not even sure what a date with her would be like. I honestly think Spider would be a better candidate for this; the two would have a lot more to talk about anyways. Then again, if missing Crane is still troubling her, then maybe it’s something to consider as a distraction…”

If I Trust Them: Not At All || Not Really || Kind of || Yes || With My Life

“Friend, flock… I’ve more reasons to trust her than I have for those that would normally be considered closer to me. I have faith she wouldn’t do anything intentionally to wrong me, and I know if it came down to it, my life would be safe in her hands, just as hers is safe in mine. I trust her to help me reach my goals, to help welcome the woman I revere above all others into the flock.”

If I Care About Them: Not At All || Not Really || Kind of || Yes || Deeply

“It’s hard not to care about someone that inhabits a part of your mind. I may not care about her as much as another, but I do still care to what extent I can manage. She deserves that much at least; to be cared for. Like a cherished pet.”

If I Would Sleep With Them: Not Enough Alcohol in the World || No || Maybe if I were wasted || Maybe || Eh…Sure || Yes || TAKE YOUR CLOTHES OFF NOW!

“I did tell her I would keep her warm until Crane was returned to us. I think Spider and I can provide her that comfort for a little while. I’d like to think it’d be fun for all involved.”

My Comfort Level With Your Muse: Keep a Distance || Okay You Can Stand There, But Don’t Touch Me || Let’s Get Coffee and Talk || Let’s Cuddle || I Can Change In Front of You || Let’s Take a Bath Together

“I am comfortable enough to share my mind with the flock. Everything else just seems so insignificant in comparison after that.”

If I See You As: A Stranger || An Acquaintance || A Friend || A Close Friend || My Best Friend || A Crush || The Love of My Life

“There are times I feel as though I don’t really know Maya at all, and yet there are moments when Wren feels like a long known friend and trusted companion. It’s strange, and I’m sure some day soon enough it’ll balance out.”

[the-rightful-king-of-jotunheim]

Obsession

  Pairing: Tony Stark x Reader

  Warnings: A couple of swear words and some minor angst

  Requested: This is my entry for @sgtjbuccky ‘s Writing Challenge with the prompt >>“Person A: “Because I’m worried that the next time you look up from your latest obsession, you’ll be alone and no one is going to be there."Person B: "Are you saying that you’ll leave me?"A: "I would never."B: "Promise?"A: "Promise.”<< 

  Word Count: 1.122

  A/N: After seven drafts and a couple of months, it’s finally here! I wanted this to be the best I’ve ever written (couldn’t reach that goal) because I wanted it to be worthy of Salina’s eyes, you know? Her stories always make you feel like you’re actually in them and the plot, the words, the way she writes them... No, I’m not in love with her, why would you say that? Anyways, I just want to thank her for every single one of her works and hope you like what I’ve scribbled...

~~~~

        Obsession:

        /əbˈsɛʃ(ə)n/

          • an idea or thought that continually preoccupies or intrudes on a person’s mind

   Taking a utilitarian angle at your life one day and realizing what you’ve been doing all these years has never done any good to this world might be soul crushing. But witnessing with your own eyes that not only had they worsened the Earth but had also worsened you was devastating enough for Tony Stark to lose himself and all his beliefs.

   After the veil had uncovered his eyes to make him take a great look at his masterpiece, Tony had done everything in his ability to be a better version of himself. He changed the motives of his actions; suddenly there wasn’t only Tony, there was a billion souls, a million innocent lives, and a planet he had to protect from all evil. Including himself.

   Instead of abandoning Mark I, he kept on going. He failed multiple times, even spent the first couple of months with no notable success. But he moved on with a persistence no one believed he had. And unlike a common hero story, he finally succeeded when his hopes were at their peak.

   The path to making a better person of himself lead towards the path that was making a better Earth. So Tony kept on walking, with his head held high and a confidence that would accompany him along the journey. It proved not to be easy but he had expected no less. This wasn’t just one human being he was dealing with, no, it was a whole planet that had the good and the bad –with a percentage that consumed all faith.

   All along the way, Tony faced dangers and obstacles he hadn’t even dreamt of, yet with the courage the world admired, he managed to tick off the list one by one. But soon Tony realized the threats were much bigger than him, much more bigger than this whole planet. And he not only burdened himself with the task of saving the world but also the universe.

   When it started being a bit too much, when the thoughts of his actions being pointless had corrupted his mind, when he deemed he had lost the fight; it dawned on him. All those times, all those fights, all those restless nights he was never alone. The reason he was able to come this far was not because of some otherworldly change in his personality or abilities but because he wasn’t alone. Neither the burden nor the sorrow was solely his to bear.

   One of the key factors of his newly found awareness was (Y/N). He realized she was there since the beginning, she was there until the end. And the fear of losing her slowly crept up his spine, through his brain and into his heart.

   The fight that was shaking the walls of the compound today was because of this little thought that grew into what kept Tony awake at night and cast an ominous glow into his eyes. He had tried to keep it away from himself but the punches and kicks that overthrew mountains of creatures were proving to be futile now.

   “For the last time, Steve, (Y/N) is not coming with us.” Tony said, trying to keep his calm.

   “I’ve told you, Tony, we’re short on people.” Steve sighed.

   Slowly approaching Tony, you wrapped your arms around him, trying to help him relax at least a little bit. “I can handle it. It’s what I signed up for, isn’t it?”

   The air around you grew thicker, he had made it clear that he didn’t want you to go on this mission the night before yet here you were acting as if you had never agreed not to. Steve stood up from the chair he was sitting on and stepped closer to give a sense of sincerity to his words, “You know you can’t always look after her like she’s your baby, right? She’s one of the strongest Avengers but most importantly she’s independent.” he looked at you, “She can choose what she wants to do.”

   Unable to hold him back, your arms loosened with the sudden outburst from Tony and he furiously stepped towards Steve, “Don’t bullshit me with that independence crap, Rogers! You know how dangerous this one is!”

   “You said it yourself, Tony! It’s not only mine or yours or her life in danger, there are a billion lives at stake!”

   “You think I don’t know that?” he spat, “You think I don’t know that we’re responsible for more than we can handle? A whole universe, for fuck’s sake!” he dropped his hands from Steve’s collars, “But I’ve lost enough, Rogers. And I’m not willing to lose the one thing I’ve got left.”

   Before Steve could say something you gave him a look and dragged Tony into your room. You knew that something was bothering him recently and, Tony being Tony, no matter what you did, you couldn’t get him to tell you what it was. As much as it was painful to watch him worry himself to almost death, you couldn’t help but smile at realizing exactly how much he cared for you.

   Once you were at a safe distance from Steve and in the warmth of your room, you seated him on the bed and kneeled down in front of him. Grasping his hands that were covering his concern filled face, you slowly brought them down to plant a small kiss on the palm of his hands. Feeling him ease up a little bit, you sighed and looked into his chocolate browns.

   “Tony… Be patient with Steve.” Sensing him tense up again, you started rubbing slow circles with your thumb, “I know you don’t exactly have the butterflies and blossoms relationship but… He’ll be there when no one else can.”

   Tony’s head snapped up at your words, his eyes hastily flicking between yours in search of the reason behind those specifically chosen words.

   “Why did you say that?”

   You took a deep breath and tried to choose your next words carefully, “Because I’m worried that the next time you look up from your latest obsession, you’ll be alone and no one is going to be there.”

    “Are you saying that you’ll leave me?” he whispered.

   Not once taking your eyes from his, you shook your head, “I would never.”

   But Tony needed more than that. He needed something to assure him that you never would. So, knowing you had kept every single promise of yours, he asked like a little kid seeking reassurance, “Promise?”

   And you replied, for maybe the millionth time, giving him your word that you would never leave him, “Promise.”

   What the neither of you knew, however, was that the promise you had made that day was the only one you weren’t able to keep.

Taglist: @theoneanna @powerstrangerdacre @fairlightswiftly

Thank you so much for reading! Remember you can always send me an ask or message me with what you thought about any of my stories or something totally random! Feedback is always very much welcome and deeply appreciated.

[notyourmotherscopingmechanisms]

Water Bottles, Getting Rid of Stuff, and Social Media Goodbyes.

Hi, all.

This is it! Welcome to the first post on this experimental foray into talking about my brain, intentionally, and with a purpose in mind.

The post that led you here (from facebook, instagram, or twitter, if I got my shit together) mentioned that this post would be about the first few things I’ve done since the New Year to try and wrangle my life back into some sense of order, so I’m just gonna jump right into that. 

1) I bought a planner.

A real, actual physical paper, honest-to-god planner. 

This in and of itself is not much of a shock. I’ve bought a lot of planners in my lifetime, always excited to finally be one of those women—capable, powerful, every moment of their day accounted for in perfect handwriting—and reader, I am absolutely garbage at using them. 

So I bought another one. Makes sense, right?

I’ll tell you why: I think I finally figured out why I’m bad at using them. 

Every planner I’ve bought in the past has been one or both of these things: a month/week/day view, or an electronic planner (for my iPad.) These...did not work. The use cycle would usually go something like this: Overjoyed with my new beautiful book, I would spend an hour or two dutifully filling out the “month” views with absolutely everything I knew about at the time, and then I’d manage to use it for about a week before I realized I’d been forgetting to write in the “week” portion of the planner. This immediately triggers the guilt—I failed, I wasted part of such a nice book, what was the point, why did I even start....you get the idea. Of course, this is all ridiculous. The book never changed...but now it makes me sad to look at, and angry at myself every time I remember it. I can’t stand to use it anymore, because every time I pick it up, it’s a reminder that, according to me, I suck. So I put it away, and vow to never again buy a planner, or to do better next time. (I wouldn't.) 

Then, I read a post a few months ago that my dad sent me (I’ll have to look up the link later and edit this post to add it) that boiled down to something along the lines of “stop trying to do your tasks the way “normal” people do their tasks.” If you have a hard time getting your laundry sorted out because the hamper’s hard to get to, take the lid off the hamper. If making a sandwich is too much work, just eat the parts, no sandwich required. Shit like that. I sat with myself for a few weeks and said to myself, brain, how can I remove obstacles that don’t even seem like obstacles in order to make things less hard?

And then I learned the secret. 

Did you know they make planners that are ONLY a month view?

There’s another secret to this process, by the way—but it applies to a lot more than just planners. Through a bit of soul searching (and by a bit, I mean a lot of grumbling about what a materialistic, vain, optics-centered magpie I am at heart) I figured out that I’m at least 80% more likely to successfully use something if it’s pretty. If I love the way it looks, I am excited to be around it. I am delighted to use it. I am sad when it isn’t nearby. So, the month-view-only planner I bought is also covered in small flowers and made from beautiful low-tooth paper that feels good to write on. I also downloaded many, many, many beautiful habit trackers, goal planning pages, and other freebies from bloomplanners.com (they made my work calendar.) Highly recommend. 

2) I bought a water bottle.

I am probably the most dehydrated person you know personally at basically all times. I’ve literally gone to the ER with medical issues that, while genuine, were all exacerbated by massive dehydration. It’s not just that I hate the taste of water (even though I do) but also that I just...straight up do not remember to drink. Ever. And when I do remember to drink, I never remember how much I’ve had, what’s left to go, any of that crap. 

“But they make apps to remind you!” 

“You can log every time you drink!”

YES, CORRECT, but also may I remind you of the above “remove obstacles from my brain” epiphany from three paragraphs ago: if there’s more than two steps (realistically, more than ONE step) to getting from “I drank water” to “I drank this much water, and now have this much left to go to not die” 

I won’t do it. 

So, I bought myself one of these bad boys. #notanad 

The Hidrate Spark is a “smart” bottle that connects to my iPhone and my AppleWatch. Its connected app will remind me through the watch, as well as via pretty glowing lights on the bottle itself, numerous times a day that I need to drink. When I drink out of the bottle, a sensor will record how much I drank, and immediately log that info into my Health App on my phone. The app automatically uses the humidity and temperature at your location, your weight, your height, and real-time activity data from your watch or phone to update how much your water goal is in realtime. 

Notice how nowhere in that description in there is there anything I have to do to track my intake and hit my goal besides fill out my info in the app once, fill up the bottle, and drink out of it? Yeah, me too.

I’ve avoided buying this bottle for over a year, because it’s a $60 water bottle, and I have twenty water bottles already, and it’s “techie” and “unnecessary” and “silly” and “excessive” and all those other things people say about smart tech, but goddamnit, and ER bill costs more than $60 and I’ve been there four fucking times for this problem. I talked to my fitness director (I work for a YMCA, so, health and fitness woo) a couple friends, and my doctor about it, and everyone agreed it was a good decision, so I did it. I can’t say if it’ll work or not yet because I don’t HAVE it yet, but I promise to keep everyone apprised. 

Also, it’s pretty. 

3) I deleted an ass ton of people off my social media. 

I’ve never cared much about my numbers when it comes to social media, I’m not in it for those, but I have the same problem with my friends lists as I do with my real life: I add without thought and then people I never talk to, never see, never will see, and don’t have an effect on my life...take up space. I’m very happy for all of them, and I hope they have wonderful lives, but I don't need all of them front and center at all times. Plus, after the year I had last year, a lot of people needed to be let go from my life for my sanity and theirs. 

So, on January 2nd, I deleted 160 people from my Facebook friends list, and blocked 7. I thought it would stress me out more—I’m not about the numbers, but I always worry someone will take offense, or be upset. But once I did it, I felt literally, physically, lighter. It hasn’t had any measurable impact yet besides that initial weight-is-lifted feeling, but I know it’s a step in the right direction for my eventual journey towards weaning off a lot of social media platforms. (Did you know facebook is the actual face of evil in the internet age, and we’re all trapped beyond belief?)

4) I cleaned, or cleaned out, everything (and I mean everything) in my house.

This is the biggie! This is it! The goodwill pile is literally taking up every inch of available space in my car! 

(This is also one of those “Ooh, it’s embarrassing, I can’t talk about it” moments I mentioned in the original post. Whelp, here I am, talking about it! Cower in fear! Hide in your homes! Real Talk is coming!)

The Marie Kondo bug that bit all of us last year got me in tandem with a few months of violent living situation upheaval. As a result, I tried to go through my belongings with every moving day I went through, and use those hell experiences as motivation to just. Get. Rid. Of. My. Shit. I’d already started on this task a few years ago, but it’s difficult to describe how much....stuff I’d managed to collect in 18-19 years. It doesn’t take much past the first time you and one friend, or just you, have to move everything you own in a single day to go “oh my god I am never doing that again.” But, I know I’ll have to move again, and even if I didn’t...my stuff was stressing me out. The obvious solution was, and is, “have less stuff.” 

I go through my wardrobe once a month now and try to get rid of at least three things. If you’ve known me since high school or just after, you might remember the absolutely astonishing size of my wardrobe. I mean, truly ridiculous. I achieved my goal early last summer of “all my clothing must fit inside a single closet” and began extending that to the rest of my life with a general rule of replacing the thought “I need more storage” with the thought “I need less stuff.” Obviously, there are some things that really do need better or different storage, and I’m recognizing that, but I can’t actually describe how much better I feel with...literally probably 70% less stuff than I used to own. 

This is an ongoing process in every part of my life, and with the habits I’ve learned and the very particular anxieties that I have (I can’t get rid of this, I might need it one day/that person was so nice to give it to me/someone might get angry if I goodwill it) continuing towards a minimalist outlook will be a path I am on for literally the rest of my life. But it’s a good path—a worthy one—and I’m so absurdly relieved that I’m finally walking on it, regardless of how many stumbles, stops, and starts there might be. 

The bonus part of having less stuff is that it’s suddenly way easier to clean your house; which is what I spent all of Saturday and part of Sunday (today) doing. My combined to-do lists* numbered around 72 items, all-told, and I accomplished almost all of them—everything from sweeping/mopping/vaccuming to moving all the appliances in my kitchen out of their spots and cleaning the sides of them. All the laundry got did. All the shelves got dusted. The tub got scrubbed. The fridge got cleared out. My closet got organized. Even my bed got a facelift in the form of a new duvet cover and some swanky king size pillows. We. Cleaned. Everything. 

And damn does it feel good to have a clean space. It’s so. Much. Easier.  To keep tidied up when I’m annoyed at myself for ruining the room with clutter, or setting something down and not putting it away.* When you have less stuff, everything suddenly has a place...and when it all starts out in that place, it’s way easier to put it back and keep that momentum going.

*/**There is a flip side of this feeling, which is my anxiety this summer beginning to express itself as certain tendencies towards OCD behaviors, but I won’t go into that here. It’ll come up soon enough, but it will need to be another post about that topic specifically and what I did/am doing to work through it. Another post will be about my “listing” and how it works/doesn’t work for me, because these are tandem issues.

I’m sure there’s more than these, but I’m going to stop here.

Mostly because one of my other goals for 2020 is to do better at setting, and sticking to, a routine. (Hey, another post!) That routine involves me being in bed by 11:30PM every day, and awake by 9:30...and it’s 10:44. So for now, goodnight, and I hope this didn’t bore anyone to absolute tears. Even if it did...that’s okay, because this is as much for me as it is for anyone else. 

See ya!

[rosalind-of-arden]

Smoke and Iron Reread chapter 8

Time for more Wolfe. Let’s see what interesting details turn up in this chapter. The Artifex makes his appearance. Fuck you, Artifex. Bit of discussion of torture in this one, as we have the Artifex’s threats and a bit of commentary on prison conditions.

“He woke in the dark, disoriented, and for a moment he reached out to touch Santi’s sleeping form, only to hit cold stone.” Break my heart in the first line, why don’t you, Caine? Especially sad when you remember from the journal in Paper and Fire that when he’s at home with Santi, he often wakes up thinking he’s still in prison.

Wolfe’s first reaction to hearing a voice after realizing he’s in prison is to seriously consider the possibility that it isn’t real. That gives us an idea of just how much he must have hallucinated in Rome.

Seriously, Artifex? You wake someone up in the middle of the night and when he doesn’t want to talk right away, you jump right to threatening to murder the person in the next cell over? That’s a bit extreme, don’t you think?

So we already have questionable rations on our list of human rights abuses in this prison. Let’s add sleep deprivation now. This shit is torture. Not as violent and gory as what the Library was doing in Rome, but still.

The power imbalance the Artifex creates for this conversation is over the top, and really highlights both his hatred for Wolfe and his fear of Wolfe. There are bars between them. Wolfe has just woken up abruptly. The Artifex is standing while Wolfe is sitting. The Artifex shines a light in Wolfe’s eyes.

Wolfe’s eyes have trouble adjusting to the light. Just age, as he thinks? Or lasting damage from Rome?

Wolfe has guts of steel. Artifex comes to threaten him, and here he is snarking at the Artifex.

Interesting, the terms the Artifex uses to describe Wolfe. He calls him a “bully,” which would seem to fit the Artifex himself better than Wolfe. Wolfe can be manipulative and demanding, but we don’t see the cruelty for its own sake that would go with bullying. And then there’'s the usual: arrogant, insufferable, brilliant, driven, haughty. I suspect “believed he could do anything without penalties” has as much to do with Keria as Wolfe himself. He’s probably gotten away with things over the years because of who his mother was. Wolfe might not even be fully aware of that privilege in some cases.

And Wolfe refers to this barrage of insults as “pleasantries.” The only weapon Wolfe has left is his sarcasm, and he is using it to full effect. He keeps up the snark and the defiance even as he recognizes that the Artifex can see past his indifferent front.

More defiance: refusing to verbally agree to cooperate, just giving a very slight nod. The only reason he cooperates even that much is the threat to other prisoners’ lives.

The Artifex cries while ranting about the dangers of freedom. He really believes in what he’s saying. He isn’t only using his ideals as justification to hurt Wolfe, rather, his ideals drive him to hate Wolfe more.

Look how quickly Wolfe gets tired of debating philosophy. It was fun while he was gloating about having the press and the Artifex’s inevitable downfall, but he does not have the patience to actually argue with the Artifex. And that’s an insult, too: he’s stating that the Artifex’s viewpoint is so wrong that it isn’t even worthy of debate.

How to get Wolfe angry? Use his first name without his consent.

The Artifex was Wolfe’s mentor. Given the attitude toward teachers in the Library, I’m guessing he wasn’t the teacher of Wolfe’s postulant class, although that’s a possibility. I’m thinking more likely someone he went off for specialist training with, or someone he worked with right after graduation.

Either while Wolfe was a postulant or shortly after he graduated, the Artifex sent him on a mission that was a trap. Wolfe nearly died, but he succeeded and earned his gold band. The Artifex got filthy rich. No further details given. This could have been Wolfe’s final test as a postulant. This could be an assignment after that. If Stormcrow is canon, this would have had to happen before that, so when Wolfe was 15-17ish, and it would have had to take place in Alexandria.

Presumably, that assignment is the reason Wolfe and the Artifex ceased getting along. Wolfe resented being used. Wolfe-Jess parallels, anyone? 

The Artifex is possibly the closest thing Wolfe had to a father figure. And Wolfe wishes he could block out his memories of that relationship. The only other memories he wants to block are his memories of Rome. Was there anything genuine in that mentor-student relationship at all, or did Wolfe, alone as he was, just not recognize right away that he was being used by someone he thought cared about him?

This is a calculated strike by the Artifex, telling Wolfe now that what he thought was his own accomplishment despite the Artifex was actually the result of the Artifex’s manipulation. It makes Wolfe doubt himself and the foundation of his career, at a time when he’s already shaken.

How much effort did it take for Wolfe to snark about being tortured here? He usually won’t even talk about it.

The Artifex uses a note to tell Wolfe to kill himself. This seems very awkward in an otherwise verbal conversation. Why use paper, which could be kept as evidence, when he’s so sure that there will be no record of his visit to the prison? I suspect that the Artifex wants to make very sure no one overhears his exact offer to Wolfe. Maybe he doesn’t trust the automata really not to be recording. Maybe he’s worries about the other prisoners, guards, or the Scholar with him, overhearing. Regardless, the offer he makes is something that goes against the Archivist’s plans, and he doesn’t want anyone to hear. He can get that paper back from Wolfe, but he can’t do anything about being heard stating his terms.

But then they discuss it out loud. Plausible deniability, though, for the Artifex. He can say anyone reporting what he and Wolfe discussed after reading the note lacked context and misunderstood what was being offered.

Does the Artifex really expect Wolfe to kill himself? I’m not sure about that. The offer to protect Santi in exchange for Wolfe’s suicide seems more like an impossible dilemma for Wolfe than an attempt to persuade him. In order for suicide to be a viable option, Wolfe would have to trust the Artifex’s claim that he has Santi and trust the Artifex to keep his word that he will protect Santi. Wolfe does not trust the Artifex. I think the goal of this visit was more to psychologically torture Wolfe than to convince him to kill himself. Wolfe just isn’t going to trust the Artifex enough to think that killing himself will really save Santi. Instead, he’ll spend the next three days, at least, thinking about what might happen to Santi, doubting the plan he thought he’d figured out, and being plagued by suicidal thoughts. The Artifex mainly wants to hurt Wolfe; driving him to suicide would be an added bonus, but it isn’t the primary goal.

Even with the Artifex presenting Wolfe with a nightmare scenario, Wolfe keeps his composure. He keeps his voice steady, he throws the note, he dismisses the Artifex. Defiance matters a lot to him. He does not want to give the Artifex any kind of victory. Is this how he was in Rome, too? Or is it a response to how badly he fell apart in Rome? Some of both, perhaps.

After this visit from the Artifex, Wolfe is upset. Before, he was certain of the plan and his role in it. Now he has doubts that will gnaw at him, and the Artifex has stirred up fears of Santi being hurt. He’s shaking, he’s upset, and he’s engaging in self harm.

Wolfe hits the wall until his hand bleeds. Rough stone? Or a wrist fracture, as @thegreatlibraryfangirl has suggested? Either way, a sign of just how distressed Wolfe has become.

Timeline stuff: It is not at all clear when this chapter takes place. It could be right after chapter 7. It could be closer to Wolfe’s next chapter, chapter 20. The three days the Artifex gives Wolfe to kill himself could be completely arbitrary, or they could represent the time the Artifex is expecting the ship to take to get to Alexandria. If this is based on ship timing, then this chapter probably comes shortly after Chapter 6, when the ship has been diverted, but the Artifex wouldn’t know it yet. The Artifex’s offer/threat is not mentioned again, so either chapter 20 is less than three days after this, or it is so long past three days that Wolfe has concluded that the Artifex was lying and forgotten about the whole thing. I lean toward thinking this chapter comes closer to chapter 7 than 20, but you could read it either way.

[mysteli]

fear of the unknown nsf*w (parker x mc)

A/N: an idea that popped into my head today and I had to write it up. Parker x mc and I’m really proud of it. hope you like it too. 

Warning: smut

Words: 4458

PERMA TAG LIST: @brightpinkpeppercorn@cocomaxley@hopefulmoonobject@alesana45 @jellybean-marshmellow@mymandrake@regrettingnathan@dobie2112@princessstellaris@mechaspirit@skyila @mind-reader1  @xo-endlessmayhem-xo@sakaily@justboredtrash@regina-and-happiness@annekebbphotography. @endlessly-searching-for-you@reginasayeed@abbiebishops@zigortega4life@eileendannie@diamondoasis@speedyoperarascalparty@emomoustache@lostlightningbug@endlesstaylormckenzie @alekai-sayeed@akrenich@vickypoo91@nitta-jaeguet@femmeshep @hayden-park@mkatschoicesblog

This fic: @vickypoochoices

Let me know if you wanna be tagged! 💗and let me know if the tags work because Tumblr is acting up.

Summary: After Parker ran from the fight, his worries take over and he finds himself coming to the conclusion that he could have helped Blake when she needed it the most. 

Masterlist

IT LIVES BENEATH FAN FICTION FEAR OF THE UNKNOWN

Parker’s mind boggles with a million possibilities, as he continuously plays the outcome of the situation he abandoned and how it could end. Would it have ended successfully with the group finally ridding Pine Springs of whatever the fuck is in that lake. But then of course... it could end horribly, with no one coming back with their lives aside from Parker but that’s only because he bailed at the last moment.

Ugh... why the fuck would he do that? Why would he act like such a coward and look Blake dead in the eyes and reveal he’s neglecting her? What kind of frightened idiot would do such a thing? Him, of course. Because he carries zero courage inside him and he’s as cowardly as the days that come. 

Parker might have just ruined everything he’s built in the last few months. This job was supposed to teach him to be more like his idols. The heroes that have inspired him for so long and his goal was be as brave as them one day. But no. He’s not brave. He’s a goddamn screw up and he’s not worthy of the badge he carries, displaying him as some kind of hero when he’s clearly an idiot in his own right.

He abandoned Blake, moments after he revealed that he loved her. A mixed signal no one wants to receive but Blake did and the pure, undisguised look of disappointment in her chestnut eyes is one of the worst things he’s ever laid eyes on and Parker wishes to never have to relive such a moment again because it tore him up inside and ripped at his heart strings. He knows he’ll never be the same again after this. Nothing will ever hurt him like look did. Blake deserves so much better than him and frankly, he may have just put her life in deep jeopardy.

Truth is, it’s been a few hours since Parker took off and sprinted back home, his fear dominating him completely until he arrived back at his place. That’s when guilt and worry stabbed and rattled his heart. All he’s done is pace back and forth recklessly for the last few hours, worry circling his mind and all he hopes is that Blake came out of that situation alive because if she didn’t... then he’ll never forgive himself.

Parker should probably just skip town now. He doesn’t have the strength to face Blake after this. He can only picture the anger and frustration flooding through her dark gaze the second she catches sight of him. She would resent him so much and call him out on the coward he has become. All this time he’s been putting on a brave face and taking each fifth head on but by then, he just couldn’t take it anymore.

Everything has just become too much for him to handle. His fear has crossed a line it can’t come back from and he’s suffered so much that his mind forced him to look for the exit and it’s unfortunate that he found it. Better things would have happened if he had stayed by Blake’s side but instead... he practically betrayed her.

Throughout the time he’s known her, Parker has found himself falling for Blake more than he ever thought he would. Hell, he managed to summon the courage to say he loved her but he couldn’t even dare to look at whatever the fuck is in that lake. Blake is a woman with many sides and personalities but each one always leads back to this courageous badass who knows what she wants as well as knowing what’s right. She’s beautiful, funny, smart and impossible to hate, unlike Parker who could be easily hated for the actions of his character tonight. 

He won’t be able to sleep, eat or do anything because his mind will always lead back to the moment he cowered and his walls finally crumbled before him. Parker won’t ever recover from this. 

Sucking in a sharp breath, Parker finally forces himself to stop pacing and drowning in his thoughts. To distract himself, he retrieves his phone, a small part of him hoping he has received some sort of text from Blake or anything letting him know she’s ok. At least, alive and well. However, a puzzled look crosses his features when he finds a voicemail notification from around three hours ago. 

Curiously, Parker checks his voicemails, lifting the phone towards his ear and listening as carefully as he can, trying to not let himself get distracted by the mystery of Blake’s safety. His eyes widen when he recognises the voice that messily speaks into the phone, a constant buffering sound playing in the background and a clear sound of chaos.

“...Parker? I know you’re probably scared to death right now... and I understand that.” Blake’s voice speaks into the other side of the phone and the shakiness of the call causes her voice to break at times. Parker remains stunned as he listens intently to what she has to say. How did he miss this? “But... we need you. We need you... so much.” The more words Blake gets out, the more it appears like she’s been crying her goddamn eyes out. Turns out there are others on the verge of breaking. “I... I’m mad at you for leaving but... that doesn’t matter now because... if you come back... I’m sure we’ll win this. Besides... I can’t deal with the thought of losing you... and I never really got the chance to tell you properly but... I love you too. More than I’ve ever really loved anyone. And I... I want you to know I forgive you. You got scared and... I can understand that. Just please... don’t give up on us.” Just when it seems like the call is about to end, Parker hears a heavy scream echoing through the phone and it causes him to jump up out of his seat as his anxiety starts to kick in again. “Aaahh! Oh shit. No! Please don’t—“

And the call just cuts off. 

Silence. Complete and utter silence. Erupting like a hidden tension in the room. Parker pants out of fear, running his hands through his dusty brown hair and starting to pace back and forth once again. Oh shit. No. No. No. What if she’s dead? After all this time, what if she was finally caught? Fear finally caught up to her and she called Parker and the next moment she’s dead! What if he answered? He could have gotten there and saved her. Helped her or at least been there to watch her take her last breath.

“Oh my god. This can’t be happening. Fuck!” Parker curses aloud, swinging his fist at the wall and a crack is left engraved as a reminder of the action. Agony overtakes him and he starts to fear the worst for a moment. “I need to see her. I need to make sure she’s not...”

That’s all the convincing Parker needs to wanna check if Blake is ok, the two sides of his mind finally agreeing on something. In one swift motion, he grabs his jacket and sprints out the door, slamming it shut on his way out — not even taking a moment to lock it securely. It’s not like Parker cares anymore. He could get robbed a thousand times or held at gunpoint and still all he would care about is the well being of the girl he fell for a little too hard. 

It’s a sacrifice he’s willing to make.

Parker now has a mission. To get to Blake’s house as fast as possible. All this only to make sure that she’s ok and safe. Hell, all his hope and might is going into the idea that she could be alive. He’s praying and pleading that that is the case. He can’t afford to lose her. Not now. Not after everything they’ve been through. It would be too damn much to deal with. He wills himself to run as rapidly as he can and a sigh of relief escapes him when he finally makes it to Blake’s house.

Parker eyes the house for a moment, noticing how dark the house in. Not a single light is on and that only causes his worry and fear to rise even more. You’d expect them all to be extremely safety conscious after everything has happened. But no. Everything is just still, silent and dim. 

Keeping the hope at a steady level, Parker rushes his way towards the front door, knocking as loud as his hands will let him. It’s practically the middle of the night and he is probably the last person any of them want to see so he isn’t expecting much of warm welcome. Just to see Blake’s stunning face again will be enough for him, even if he’s turned away. All he wants is for his mind to put at ease and he’ll be grateful to know that she is alive and safe.

After what seems like a countless amount of knocking, Parker receives no answer and his patience forces him to look for another way in. He dashes around the side of the house because that’s where his knowledge takes him. All the windows are still dark as hell and the house could easily be deserted on the inside. But Parker chooses to have hope. 

His hazel eyes brighten up slightly when they land on the familiar sight of the window to Blake’s room. He glances around for a way in, completely aware how creepy he’s coming off right now but he has no other choice. He’s too damn desperate now. Parker spots a tree that leads up to the window and that leaves him with no other option but to climb it.

“Goddamnit.” Parker releases a reluctant sigh and throws all caution to the wind as he steadily makes his way up to the tree, careful and persistent with each step he takes. He couldn’t care less about his own health right now so there’s a noticeable hastiness with the way he moves.

Once he makes it to the top, Parker remains perched on the edge of the tree and his lands clutch the outline of the window, as his eyes try to find any sign of Blake in the dimly lit room, the moonlight being the only supply of light. All of a sudden, Parker’s entire expression widens in shock when he finally spots the woman that’s been on his mind for god knows how long. Blake Vance, seated at her desk with her head in her hands. She looks distraught with a sense of relief and Parker has never been so glad to see another human in his life. Without hesitance, he knocks on the window, alerting Blake immediately and her features appear confused when she finds Parker propped by her window. She rises from her seat and approaches the window with caution, playing out the debate on whether she should let Parker in after everything. Then again, she did leave him that message of forgiveness.

Blake can see the obvious relief in Parker’s eyes and every cell in his body struggles to remain calm as he finds Blake Vance standing before, alive and well.  His anxiety remains at its peak however due to the thought that Blake may not wanna let him in. 

“...Parker?” Blake reacts, her expression slowly transitioning into something unreadable. It’s like the idea has finally sunk in that he is actually there. 

“Blake...” is all Parker managed to say, blurting out the only thing that’s on his mind right now. 

Wordlessly, Blake opens the window and Parker warily leans back so she can swing it fully open. Their dark eyes meet and lock for an endless amount of time. They’re so skeptical of each other right now but also so damn happy just to be able to lay their eyes on such a face again. For a minute, they both believed that they’d never see each other again and a tension slowly gets caught between them.

Soon, Parker’s desperation kicks in and he steps through the window and swiftly wraps Blake in a well overdue hug, all his longing and power being poured out in this one action. Tears threaten to escape the corner of his eyes and he wouldn’t mind revealing the weakest side of him right now. This is his worst vulnerability. Her. She’s caused him to be this way and it’s not a bad thing. He needed to venture through his side of him and learn to cope with a near loss because he finds himself regretting being the coward that he was before. He wasn’t brought up to be such a failure and Blake taught him that he can be so much more than what he pretends to be.

Parker is surprised when Blake returns the hug, winding her arms around his neck and tugging him as close to her as possible. He shortens the gap even more by tightening his grasp on her and burying his face in her shoulder, revealing how helpless he truly feels right now. He pants into her shoulder, expressing his exhaustion from how quickly he ran before but he doesn’t regret it because it means he got to see her faster.

After what seems like forever, they finally part and reluctantly pull away but Parker takes a moment to skim over her face and familiarise himself with her stunning features. Blake opens her mouth to speak but Parker protests by scattering her face with desperate kisses and joining their foreheads as he finds himself enraptured by the hazel shade of her eyes. Her gaze is plastered with a meaningful bewilderment but a lost happiness at the same time.

“Parker... what... are you doing here?” Blake can barely get words out as Parker cups her face and his eyes search her body worriedly for any scars or wounds from the battle that would have went down while he was gone. 

“I... I got your message.” Parker says in a breathy tone that highlights a shakiness Blake has never seen before. “...you scared the living shit out of me, Blake.”

Blake is slightly taken aback by his words and she struggles to stay calm and Parker plants featherlight kisses from her wrist all the way up to her neck, barely missing her lips. “I’m sorry... but I’m alive. We all are. We... we finished it.”

Parker swallows hard at the way she speaks of the concept of we. Clearly not talking about him when she says it. Parker distracts his doubts by brushing a strand of Blake’s hair out of her face, noticing how tousled it is and there is a minor bruise underneath her eye. One that wasn’t there when he was still at her side. 

“That doesn’t mean you weren’t hurt.” Parker whispers, gesturing to the bruise underneath his eye and he plants a small kiss on her cheek, rubbing circles over the small sore.

“It’s fine... it’s nothing, Parker.” Blake assures, stroking the skin at the back of his neck with comforting intentions. 

Parker releases a heavy exhale and arches his head back in slight frustration. “You’re right... I have no reason to be worrying about you. Not after what I did—“

“No, Parker. I don’t wanna talk anymore. Especially about that.” Blake interrupts him before anguish can take over the moment. She tilts his head down so he’s staring into her eyes and her eyes darken at the sight of him. That only tells him one thing. “I wanna make the most of this. It doesn’t matter what you did. It only matters you do now.”

“And what do you want me to do?” Parker dares to ask, seeming to know the answer already. 

A knowing look washes over Blake’s expression and she lets her hand a drift up to roam through Parker’s dusty brown hair, her voice dropping to a low whisper. “It’s not what I want. It’s what I need. And that’s for you to show me how much you were worried about me. I can see that desperation in your goddamn eyes and I want you to use that to take me the best you can.” Blake seems so sure of this and Parker has no reason to protest or argue with her. “...I wanna feel normal again, Parker... and I can’t wait anymore.”

Parker only has to say one more thing before everything he’s ever wanted with Blake can finally become a reality. “You don’t have to wait anymore, Blake. I’m here for you.”

With that, a magnetic force causes their lips to meet at a drastic pace, every emotion they felt in that moment going into this one powerful, mind blowing kiss. All the worry, anxiety, doubt, anger, frustration, hunger, desire, passion, power, relief, happiness and above all desperation falling into the rhythm that’s easily built up the minute their lips meet. The familiar salty taste of Parker’s lips causes Blake to smile against his mouth, as she continues to drag her hands through his hair, abruptly tugging on a strand with a little force and that causes Parker’s lips to part and a groan escapes him. 

Taking advantage of the situation, Blake slips her tongue into his mouth and he returns the favour quite quickly, pressing her closer to his body and deepening the kiss as best he can. This is probably the first time the intensity of a moment between them has been at such a dramatic peak. Parker can’t remember a time he’s wanted someone as much as he wants Blake right now in this moment. This is everything he’s ever wanted with her and he knows this is a memory he’s gonna wanna relive for the rest of his life. The same could be said for Blake, as this moment means as much to her as it does to Parker.

Starting to feel the desire building in her core, Blake moves her hands from Parker’s hair and instead lets them rest at his shoulders before tugging his jacket off his body as quickly as possible. The piece of clothing aimlessly falls to the floor and is left discarded and meaningless as the only thing that matters right now is the two of them and they truly feel like they only people in the world right now. Parker responds by biting down on Blake’s lower lip, stifling a moan out of her and that’s when his lips start to mindlessly venture away from her lips and down her jawline. He continues this pattern until he reaches the base of her neck which prompts him to suck at the skin of her collarbone, marking her as his with a love bite like no other. While this is happening, Blake takes her lower lip between her teeth to stop herself from screaming Parker’s name.

She’s lucky that Elliot is staying at Robbie’s tonight or this would be a much bigger problem. 

Parker sucks harder at Blake’s skin and this time she can’t hold back the moan that hovers in her throat. “Parker...” She mutters his name and it’s like music to his ears, only motivating him to pleasure her even more.

In response, Blake drags her hands up Parker’s shirt, his muscles twitching and tensing up as she caresses his stomach and plays with the hem of shirt. Parker reluctantly loses contact with her neck in order to pull his shirt over his head, leaving him bare chested before. Sure, Blake has seen him shirtless before but this is a hell of a lot more intimate because this sight is only for her. 

A smirk crosses Parker’s lips as he noticed Blake’s obvious reaction to the sight of him. “Huh. You like what you see.” It doesn’t really seem like a question when he says that.

Blake just rolls her hazel eyes and doesn’t dare to answer him, simply yanking him in for another kiss by the back of his neck. She starts leading him over to the bed and she knows they’ve made when her back knocks into the end. Realising, Parker lifts her up by her thighs and guides her onto the sheets. She sighs in contentment when Parker starts working his hands at her body, caressing her hips as he lowers his head onto her neck once more, leaving another hickey but this time on the other side. Blake moans satisfyingly in response and grips Parker’s hair firmly, causing him to lift his head and sit up momentarily.

Blake reacts by shooting up as well and bringing their lips together once more, in desperate need for some sort of physical contact between them. Parker responds by latching himself onto her arms and deepening the kiss. He takes this as an opportunity to remove her shirt, breaking the kiss only for a second to complete the action and Blake feels an instant sense of relief when he removes her bra as well. 

His gaze wanders hungrily over the sight of her bare chest, as this is the first time he’s seen such a view before. Blake suddenly starts to feel self-conscious as Parker’s gaze drifts further down her body but at the same time, she can’t help but enjoy his affection. 

Wordlessly, Parker gently pushes her back down on the bed and lowers his head into her chest, prepared to supply her with her as much satisfaction as possible. His hands caress her stomach as he kisses in between her breasts before slowly showering her chest with kisses. His attaches his lips to one of her nipples and flicks it with his tongue a few times. That’s when he sucks onto her nipple affectionately, stifling a few moans out of her and she pants at the affect his touch is having on her. She’s enjoying every second of it. Every twitch, every caress, every time his hand grazes a curve. Blake almost can’t handle it.

Parker finally lifts his head after what seems like forever and then he finds himself moving further down her body, leaving a pathway of firm kisses on her stomach before he reaches the top of her jeans. He slides the zipper down and tugs her jeans off as quickly as possible. His eagerness is starting to kick in because of how close he is to getting to taste her. It’s what he’s wanted for a long time and he’s prepared to make her feel as amazing as possible. 

Once her jeans are discarded, Parker performs the same action to her panties before settling his head in between her legs. Only now does he realise how wet she is and he sucks in a sharp breath at such a sight. Maintaining eye contact, Parker teases her folds with his fingers and tongue, finding himself too eager to miss a taste of her when he gets the chance. Eventually, his mouth hovers over her clit and he takes her in his mouth at the exact right moment, when her anticipation is at its peak. She slams her eyes shut and savours the moment, enjoying the feeling as her body tenses up pleasure. Parker never slows his movements, not wanting to let her enjoyment falter as he cherishes the taste of her. His fingers continue to work at her folds and he plans to pleasure her this way until her release is mere inches away.

“Mmmm... Parker...” Blake moans out of satisfaction, her mind in disbelief that this moment is finally here. She eventually feels herself moving on edge and her release could arrive at any moment. “Baby... I think I’m gonna...”

Hearing that, Parker lifts his head with a smirk and lets go of her. She meets his eyes with irritation, raising her eyebrows at him questioningly. Parker stays silent and wordlessly removes the rest of his clothes and positions himself so he’s hovering over her. That’s when Blake realises what he’s planning instead and she can’t help but bite down on her lower lip as she imagines what that could be like. Parker notices how much her eyes have darkened and it drives him as his cock twitches in reaction. His teases her sex for a moment before finally sinking into her. 

Immediately, Blake releases a pleasured sigh and her body is flooded with a feeling of relief at Parker’s movements as he explores inside of her. Blake has never experienced this kind of love before and she can easily say it’s the best she’s ever had in her damn life. Parker could say the same as well, as he’s enjoying this just as much as Blake. They both melt into each other, being sure to make the most of this moment because who really knows what tomorrow could bring? Maybe that’s why Blake was so eager to do this now and Parker can’t say he’s complaining.

Parker eagerly palms her breast as they continue to rock rhythmically against each other. Cries of pleasure echo throughout the dimly lit house and Parker steadies Blake by resting his hands at her thighs. They continue moving against each other until finally... they both reach release.

Later, they both lay sprawled out on the bed, entwined in each other’s arms. They’re both slick with sweat but extremely and undeniably satisfied. They’ve both never experienced sex as good as that before and they’re still in disbelief that a night like this ended up leading to that.

Blake tilts her head towards Parker and her hazel eyes light up with energy. “Well, that was... fucking amazing.” She mutters, her head dropping back down on Parker’s chest as he smooths out her slightly greased hair. 

Parker lets out a breathy laugh, kissing the top of Blake’s head. “Sure was.” He agrees, burying his face in her hair. He meets her eyes for a moment and something immediately comes rushing back to him and frowns a little. 

“What’s wrong?” Blake asks in a concerned tone, noticing his sudden change of mood.

“Nothing I just... thought you were gone for moment. It really scared me, Blake.” Parker admits, his tone breaking with a shakiness and Blake cups his cheek reassuringly.

“But I’m still here, Parker. You don’t need to worry about me going anywhere. It’s over now.” Blake assures, bringing their lips together briefly and he can’t help but form a weak smile, despite still being a little shaken up.

“Are you sure it’s over? Because I don’t wanna lose you.” Parker whispers, joining their foreheads together and Blake nods at his words.

“I don’t wanna lose you either. If another battle comes around, I’m sure you’ll fight this time and I’ll be right there by your side. Alive.” 

[katiekat1321]

The Master and The God (part 9)

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9 

A/N: In the Last Chapter... You met with a cosmic entity named Infinity who has asked you to help prevent a Universe changing event that is coming.

You walked up to Loki’s door, still wondering if your choice was right. Was it fair to Loki? Not really, I’m essentially a parasite feeding off his seidr now. But Infinity said this would make things better and I think it’s fair to assume a cosmic entity knows what she is talking about. You thought to yourself, then again, she could have just said that to manipulate me into agreeing. Infinity’s goal is to make sure the universe is safe; she probably would have said anything to get me to agree. Y/n, what have you gotten yourself into?

You heard one of the guards clear his throat and you realized you had been lost in thought in front Loki’s door for at least a few minutes. You smiled awkwardly and went to knock on the door but heard a something crash into the wall by the door. You jumped back a bit and looked at the guard, expecting him to rush in and see if everything was okay.

He just shrugged and said, “He’s been in a mood since you left. Yelling and breaking things.”

You nodded and knocked on the door. You could hear the soft thud of something being dropped to the floor and a cold “Enter,” from Loki.

Loki saw you peek around the door, a little scared of being hit by a projectile. He took a deep breath before greeting you, “Y/n?”

“I’m back,” you said as you walked in and set your cane down next to what was a dresser when you left, but now all the drawers were missing and broken, and the clothes were everywhere. “What happened in here? It looks like a tornado rip this place apart!”

Loki gave you a once over like he could tell something was different about you already. “It’s fine, just,” Loki paused for a minute. He tried look like he was searching for the right words, but you could feel the lie on the tip of his tongue before he said it, “a little, how do you say it on Midgard? Cabin fever?”

You nodded, that was probably not a lie. It was more of a half-truth. Loki was tired of being under house arrest and stuck in here, but that was not why he destroyed his room. You waved a hand around the room and everything repaired itself. “How about a little prison break then? Maybe a change of location will make continuing our earlier conversation a bit easier?” You offered.

Loki raised an eye brow but agreed nonetheless. He sat down in a chair and gestured for you to sit in the one facing him. You sat down in front of him and immediately allowed your astral form to be released from your physical form. You looked to Loki but knew he couldn’t see you. You put a hand on his cheek and watched him jump slightly in surprise before you moved your hand to his forehead and pushed his astral form out.

“Fancy meeting you here stranger,” you said before waving a hand over his body and floating towards the door and Loki followed. “Where shall we go? And just so you don’t think to try something I put a spell on you. If you leave the palace grounds, you’ll be shocked and forced back into your body. It’s not very comfortable. The Ancient One would use that on us in training.”

“The sun recently set, I know a of a small balcony off Odin’s private library that is great for viewing the night sky,” Loki offered. As soon as you nodded Loki headed off, leading you there. You breezed past countless empty rooms, up a few stairwells, and shelves of books in the library before reaching Odin’s private collection of books. You saw Loki go out the glass doors leading to the balcony, but one section of books caught your eye. You stopped to read the spines of the books and translated the runes. They were about Midgard’s history.

You pulled the first one off the shelf, flipped it open, and saw a picture of Master Agamotto. The caption under it explained that he was a master of magic known as the mystic arts and taught many disciples. It also noted that he was entrusted with the time stone and placed it in the necklace he is often pictured wearing.

You stared at the picture of Master Agamotto and tried to work through that this all meant. Odin had kept Earth’s history of the Mystic Arts existence a secret from the people of Asgard. He himself knew the history and it seemed Frigga did as well but destroyed all other books on the subject. That was some extreme censorship. Is it to make Asgardians feel stronger? You wondered, I want to believe Odin is a good person, was it to protect us from something? But from what?

You were lost in thought, trying to figure out what Odin’s intentions were when you heard Loki right behind you. “Y/n, what are you looking at?”

You slammed the book shut and put it back on the shelf, hoping that didn’t make enough noise to raise suspicion that someone had snuck into the library. Before you could make up a response Loki continued speaking, “It’s not actually a blank book you know. It only appears that way to people less powerful than Odin. Mother once told me only she and Odin could read any of these books.”

“Oh, um,” You weren’t sure how to reply to that, but if you wanted Loki to be truthful to you about everything leading up to the Battle of New York you should be truthful to him too. “They’re supposed to be blank? I was looking at a picture of the Agamotto, the founder of the Masters of the Mystic Arts.”

“You can actually read it?” Loki asked incredulously.

You nodded, worried you had messed up again today and this would only upset him more. His eyes lit up a little as he pulled another thin book off the shelf at random, opened it to page, and held it out to you, “What does this say?”

You leaned in a little closer and translated the first paragraph. “Something about Dark Elves and the Ether returning one day.”

Loki closed the book and looked confused as he read the spine again. “This book is supposed to be about the final battle of Bor and the Dark Elves. We were taught that Bor killed every last one of the Dark Elves and destroyed the Ether on Svartalfheim.”

You took the book from Loki and put it back on the shelf from where he had grabbed it. “It seems that Odin has censored your history and kept the real records hidden away in this private collection.”

“Why?” Loki asked quietly. You knew the question wasn’t directed to you, you expected Loki didn’t realize he even said it out loud. It was more of an internal pondering.

“I think I know why actually, but I need to talk to Frigga more about it before I say anything more.” You replied and turned towards the door to the balcony, “Let’s just go outside and talk. The fresh air will do you good.” Loki agreed without protest and followed you outside.

Loki sat on the stone railing, legs dangling over the edge. You followed suit, sitting with a small gap between the two of you. “I still don’t know where to start.” Loki said softly.

“You can start wherever you want to. I wasn’t here when any of this happened so tell me your side of the story. I’m not sitting here with a negative image of you already.” You told him.

Loki scoffed, “How can you not have a negative image of me? I helped an army of aliens attack your planet in exchange for the promise of being named its king!”

You placed and hand on his. Loki’s eyes widened and he glanced at you in his peripheral. “I am not holding that against you. I never did. I’ve spent all my time at Kamar-Taj studying Asgard. I know your past and I know what Midgardian Norse Mythology says of you. I also know Frigga speaks of you with so much love and that she still has faith that you will do great things. Your mistakes don’t have to define you. I want to help you Loki.”

“Okay, I’ll being where I think everything started to fall apart, the day that Thor was supposed to be crowned king,” Loki said, turning toward you slightly, “I felt that Thor was not suited for the throne. He was too foolhardy and just wanted to fight and win glory. He didn’t really care about the people’s well-being. I didn’t feel it was fair for Odin to dismiss my claims to the throne so blatantly so I allowed a diversion to prevent the coronation from proceeding. I snuck a message out to Jotunheim and told them to send a couple warriors to reclaim the Casket of Ancient Winters. I hated the Jotuns, and I still do, but they were the easiest of Asgard’s enemies to trick. They were desperate and never fully recovered after they were cut off from the rest of the realms so I knew they would be willing to accept an anonyms message offering to help them; I knew they wouldn’t succeed and the Destroyer would kill them. I planned this all as a harmless trick to stop the coronation, to ensure that the date would get pushed back and I would have more time to talk to Odin and convince him Thor wasn’t worthy of the throne. Then Thor decided to go to Jotunheim to fight them. I admit I might have supported the idea, but I didn’t think Thor would be so quick to agree. I told a guard where we were going and to send Father after us after we left so that Thor would be punished and we would end up dead.”

You made a small sound of surprise, but Loki noticed and paused his story. He looked to you and asked what happened. “It’s nothing, you just finally called Odin your father.”

Loki looked away and you were worried he was going to stop talking and close up again but to your surprise he started speaking again, “Anyway, I was touched by one of the Jotuns and turned blue rather than getting frost burn so I knew something was wrong, after Thor was banished I spoke to Odin about it and that’s when he told me that I was not his son, but would have been the crown prince of the creatures I grew up being taught to hate.”

“That would be enough to fuck anyone up,” you commented.

Loki seemed amused by your response, “Your Midgardian simplicity refreshing as always Lady Y/n.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” you questioned.

“Nothing negative, darling,” Loki defended himself, “The brashness of your replies is quite amusing. It’s so unapologetically honest. It’s very different from most people here and rather endearing,” you blushed in response so Loki changed the subject, “anyway after that Odin fell into an Odinsleep and being the only heir left on Asgard, I became the acting King. I wanted to finish the Jotuns off like they should have been hundreds of years ago, but now, looking back on my emotions, I realize that I was also wanting to erase my true past. I wanted to cut any and all ties I could have to them so I formulated a plan to sabotage them and elevate myself to the strong hero status Thor held. For my plan to work I knew I would need to keep Thor away on Midgard so I lied to him, telling him father died and though I was king, he would have to remain banished. Then I went to Laufey, claiming I wanted to betray Asgard, but as you know it was just a ploy to kill him, which was obviously successful,” Loki’s words trailed off.

“And then Thor returned,” you offered.

This seemed to refocus Loki’s mind, “Yes, Thor returned and stopped me from fully destroying Jotunheim by destroying the Bifrost and I fell from the bridge. Odin could have saved me, but he didn’t, and I fell to my doom.”

You could hear his throat tightening as he neared the end of his sentence so you tried to urge him to continue, “And then what happened?”

“It’s getting rather late isn’t it?” Loki said, ignoring your question entirely, “I think we should turn in for the night and continue this conversation another day.”

You knew what Loki was trying to do, he was trying to get out of continuing this conversation. He only shared what you already knew, but you appreciated the fact that he was willing to open up, even this much. “That’s okay, we can continue tomorrow. Thank you, Loki,” you said and held a hand up to his face, making him disappear and rejoin his physical form back in his room. Before you returned to your body as well you took one last glance at the shelves in Odin’s private library. How much else has he hidden? Everything about the Masters, everything about Hela, and apparently the truth about whatever happened between King Bor and the Dark Elves.

You were torn between confronting Odin directly about all this or just privately sneaking back in at some point and reading through more of the books. There was nothing you could do at the moment anyway so you returned to your body in Loki’s room.

“I’ll be back early tomorrow Loki,” you told him as you stood up, stretched, and cracked your neck. “I know this is difficult for you. It must not be easy to relive whatever happened to you, I can see the pain in your eyes.”

Loki refused to meet your eyes. “What happened to you out there, Lady Y/n?” He asked.

“What do you mean?” You asked in response.

“What did Heimdall summon you for?” Loki clarified. He watched your smile falter and knew he needed to press the topic further, “You’re stronger. I can feel your Seidr burning and the energy in you,” Loki placed a hand over the center of your chest, “I can feel it coursing through your veins.”

“It seems I’ll have some explaining to do tomorrow as well,” you agreed and removed his hand from your chest, but instead of releasing it, you held it for a moment in both of your hands. “But you’re going first.”

Loki’s eyes crinkled into a smile as he agreed. “Goodnight darling,” he said simply and walked away from you towards his bed.

“Goodnight my Prince,” you quipped back as you walked to the door, holding out a hand and your cane soaring into it. You could feel the mirth radiating from Loki at that comment as you left his room and headed to your own.

As you made the short walk back to your room you thought about what your next step should be. I obviously need to hear the rest of Loki’s story first, you thought. Then it’s a toss up between returning to Earth to begin the tasks of making sure these twins are properly enhanced and everything is on the path it should be or stay on Asgard a bit longer before that and figure out why Odin has been lying to his people.

It was moments like this that you wish you had the Eye of Agamotto to see what different futures held. Though even without the ability to see the future you knew fate would pull you down whichever path is more pressing.

You were so distracted by your own thoughts you didn’t even notice Thor until you actually ran into him.

“Lady Y/n?” He said as he steadied you, “What are you doing wandering the castle at this hour?”

“I’ll admit I have no idea what time it is, but I’m sure it isn’t that late Thor,” you said with a kind smile, “sorry, I should have been paying more attention to where I was going.”

“What is on your mind?” Thor asked. He really was like a human, or rather Asgardian, golden retriever; all blonde, friendly, and kind.

“I had an interesting meeting with… a friend of your mothers earlier this evening and I’ve only just finished speaking with your brother. I’ve learned a lot tonight and I’m not sure what to do next honestly. I’m not even sure if I should be telling you this much,” you confessed. Just saying that much to another person was relieving some of the metaphorical pressure you felt on your shoulders.

“I didn’t know mother had a friend visiting her,” Thor replied.

“It was just a quick visit. I’m guessing she was in the area so she thought she’d just pop in,” you lied.

“Well if it’s about Loki then I can talk to him,” Thor offered, “I’m well aware you can handle yourself Lady Y/n, but I’m happy to help you however I can.”

You reached up on your tiptoes to ruffle his hair a bit, “You’re very sweet Thor. But Loki has been nothing but a gentleman to me. Honestly! You must know your brother well enough to recognize that he is not a bad person. Misguided maybe, but not evil.”

Thor flattened his hair and sighed. “I’m not sure what to think of him anymore. He’s changed so much from when we were kids.”

“Well of course, everyone changes as they grow and learn life lessons. I believe one dashing blond god-man recently learned that fighting isn’t always the best answer, especially for a king.”

“You are very wise for a Midgardian,” Thor murmured. You raised an eyebrow at his comment and he quickly realized what he said came out wrong. “I meant that you have the wisdom of someone who has lived hundreds of years, Lady Y/n”

“Of course, you did,” you joked. “Well, I should be getting to bed. Loki still has a lot more to explain tomorrow and I have a feeling I will need a lot of energy to get it all out of him.” You were about to walk away when you thought of something. “Actually, maybe you talking to Loki would help. But not quite yet, he still needs more time. Goodnight Thor”

Thor bid you goodnight as you continued down the hall to your door. As soon as you reached your bed you collapsed onto it, the day’s mental strain finally catching up with you.

**If you would like to be added to the tag list for this fic send me an ask!

Tag List: @missaphrodite23 @sidemenaremylife @casuallyobsessivewitchcraft @alfoos @fiftyshadesofriri @dammitkatt @awkwardnesshabitat @fiery-feyre @serrure-ikol @bone-ankle-tree @shysaladewriter

Part 10 -->

[ohmytheon]

Karma in Retrograde (1)

title: Karma in Retrograde

summary: When Dabi is struck by a de-aging quirk that regresses him to the most important part of his life, he finds himself turned back to a sixteen year-old U.A. General Studies student with a lot of self-esteem issues, parent problems, a destructive quirk that he can't manage, and no memory of the five years that he's lost - not the mention the fact that his little brother is now the same age as him and one of the top students in the U.A. hero course. In U.A.'s attempt to make up for what they missed and help the Dabi of the past, present, and future, he is placed with the only students that know him and have yet to find out what truly makes the difference between a hero and a villain. There, they must face the question of whether he can change or if his destiny is already set in stone.

– Chapter 1: An attack on a hero support equipment warehouse goes terribly wrong when Dabi is hit with a de-aging quirk.

notes: This is going to be a massive endeavor (no pun intended) on mine and @mistystarshine​‘s behalf, but I could not ask for a better co-conspirator, partner-in-crime, and co-author for this fic. For all we know, this whole thing could be debunked in this current manga arc, but you can pry the "Dabi is a Todoroki" theory out of my cold dead hands. I hint at it in a lot of my fics, so it was high time that I just did it. Mistystarshine and I went back and forth with a lot of jokes and ideas, but she came up with the de-aging idea and my brain ran with it like I needed it to live. I'm so excited for where this is going. It's a lot of headcanons, all things considered, and we've come up with ideas that range from totally silly to dead fucking serious. I'm not joking when I say that we've talked about this fic every night for like three weeks, maybe more. This is going to be crack treated very seriously. Are there plot holes? Sure. Would this actually happen? Probably not. Do we care? Hell no. We're having fun with this! A ton of fun! And I hope you do too reading it. I've got a lot of feels and so does Mistystarshine and apparently this is our outlet.

When he had joined the League of Villains, Dabi had expected to be dealing with pro heroes, not children, but sometimes it was more interesting that way. Maybe it had been a coincidence or fate, but something had aligned in the universe to bring together all his desires. Sometimes the League was fractured and they didn’t always agree or even like each other, something that was inevitable when a lot of strange and wackjob personalities were in one room, but hate could make even the worst work with one another for a common goal.

And right now, the goal was to bring down the false hero society that so many people worshipped.

To be honest, Dabi wouldn’t mind heroes if they actually did what they had been created to do. However, besides All Might, it had been a very long time since heroes were legitimately heroic. It was hard to be a true hero when all heroes were human and most humans were flawed. Could he fault them for that? No, he was plenty flawed as well. The difference between him and these so-called heroes was that he could admit it. He revelled in it, in fact. The heroes needed to be brought down a level so they could see their distorted reflections as well.

These days, heroes were more about fame and fortune than they were about saving people -- about being good. Even the best of the best could also be terrible people behind closed doors. They weren’t the pure-hearted individuals that so many people made them out to be. Greedy, self-centered, brutal, cold. None of those things were in the definition of a hero and yet they applied to many of them out there right now. A true hero would know their flaws, accept them, and work every day to overcome them.

Not too many heroes were willing to do that and so it was the League’s job to show them how. It was more fun than Dabi had anticipated. He should have started doing this ages ago. The years that he’d wasted doing little more than passive aggressive petty crimes on his own were nothing compared to what he was doing now with the League.

Perhaps the most opportune moment of his life, and a surprising one at that, was when Dabi had been put in charge of the Vanguard Action Squad. Although they had attempted to come to blows at first and Dabi still thought that the guy was more than a little broken in the head, Shigaraki had still seen Dabi’s ability to lead. It wasn’t something that was immediately noticeable, the scars, staples, and dead but bright blue eyes too distracting, but he had spent his entire life raising himself, making it easier to guide others.

It had given him access to the newest U.A. students. Not one of his original goals, but something that had definitely turned into an opportunity to do even more with his time in the League. He wasn’t certain how long he planned on being in it, but for now, it worked to his advantage. In the beginning, he had been aggravated over the idea that he had to deal with a bunch of children, but then they proved to be a lot more interesting than many of the pro heroes that he’d seen so far.

What better way to bring down the hero society and start anew than by attacking the very beginning of the process? U.A. and schools like it were where every hero began their journey. Cutting them down right there, destroying all that they believed in, would cause a ripple effect throughout the entire hero community.

Dabi could see all of it -- the past that brought him to his lowest point, the present that he was fighting in, and the future that could go either way -- whenever he saw Shouto Todoroki.

It had been curious to see Todoroki’s face on the kill list when he and the Vanguard had attacked the U.A. Training Camp in order to kidnap Katsuki Bakugou. Not very surprising, if Dabi was being honest. Like most people, he had watched the U.A. Sports Festival and seen the raw power that made up Endeavor’s youngest son. With his mother’s ice powers in tenfold on one side and his father’s fire on the other, he was the perfect storm to make up a hero.

His unwillingness to use the fire half of his quirk had been of note. Dabi had known at least some of what he was capable of and yet Todoroki had clearly avoided using it until that Midoriya kid had forced him into a corner. He could have crushed Bakugou in the last round had he used his fire power -- and yet he hadn’t. A hero obsessed with power and being on the top, Dabi doubted that Endeavor had liked that, which had been a pleasure in itself.

To be honest, Dabi had expected to confront Todoroki at some point when they’d been on the mission to kidnap Bakugou. There was no way that someone like him would let something like a classmate being taken lying down. Perhaps he had lingered too long on Todoroki’s photo back then because Shigaraki had actually asked if killing him would be a problem. Many people gravitated towards people with similar quirks and even felt connected to them on some level.

No, being put into a position where he might have to kill Shouto Todoroki wouldn’t be a problem. Actually doing it was another matter. Dabi rather liked the kid being around. Both he and Midoriya were prime examples of who heroes were supposed to be. It would almost be a shame to put them down, not when Stain himself had decided that Midoriya was worthy of being kept alive. Dabi liked to think that if Todoroki had been in the other boy’s position, Stain would have made the same decision.

Maybe it was wishful thinking.

Or maybe Dabi just liked direct conflict.

It had been decided the League would strike again when the Class 1 students began to get their provisional hero licenses. After the whole Overhaul business, Dabi was itching to get back into the swing of things. He’d gotten a taste of what it felt like to completely overwhelm a hero and it had been addicting. Bringing a hero to their knees had been exhilarating, even more so when Dabi had been recognized for his most recent work.

Endeavor had been officially announced as the new number one hero. All Might was a shell of who he was once. Todoroki finally passed his test and Dabi, being one of the strongest in the League, was given the opportunity to attack the beginning stages of hero society and turn them to ashes. Things were coming together nicely.

They waited a few days before attacking a warehouse that created much of the support equipment for heroes. Not a lot of civilians realized that so many heroes relied on equipment to strengthen or control their quirks. Dabi had never had proper access to it while growing up with his destructive quirk. Who knew where he would be if he had? Destroying the main manufacturer of such equipment would not only cripple the heroes that depended on them, but also deal a devastating economic blow.

Dabi had been quite proud of the idea. The fact that the warehouse was in the sector where Todoroki had his provisional hero license was a bonus.

Those false heroes wasted little time in reaching the scene, but it was too late to save the warehouse or whatever was inside. Dabi’s cremation quirk was overwhelming in its destructive abilities. With the equipment added to his outfit to give him an actual villain costume, he could unleash it even further. Every time he used his quirk now, he felt a wild sense of power and relief. For the first time in his life, his quirk felt better than good. It felt great. He could go to one hundred percent without ever having to worry. This was power, all in the palms of his hands.

And then, without warning, it was all taken away from him.

A warehouse employee was cowering in the corner, trapped in the building by the blue flames. Dabi was thinking that it might be kinder to simply turn him to ashes when a wall of ice sliced through the room and cut Dabi off from everyone else in the building. He spun around and let off another burst of flames just in time to greet another row of ice. Steam, water, smoke, and ice exploded in the room the second the two opposites met each other. Dabi threw an arm up and let flames consume him to protect himself. He built them stronger, pulling them to his arm, and threw them at the young hero who had joined the fray.

Todoroki sliced through the blue flames not with his ice but with his fire and Dabi’s blood boiled. Fighting fire with fire was a power move that few thought of. While Todoroki’s fire wasn’t nearly as hot as Dabi’s, it was enough to break Dabi’s flames apart. Even better, as Todoroki countered with his flames using his left arm, he was able to slam his right foot down on the ground and attack with his ice, which forced Dabi to dodge to the left and shoot off another powerful explosion of flames.

“Why don’t you leave this for the big boys?” Dabi taunted, bolstered by the fire that surrounded them, blue and orange alike. It was hotter than hell in here, melting Todoroki’s ice like a popsicle on a summer day.

Todoroki grit his teeth in frustration, though he didn’t look anywhere near his limit. Dabi would have to drag Todoroki there until the kid was past collapsing. If he kept fighting, then he’d prove himself to be a hero. Didn’t mean that he might not still be killed, but Dabi would prefer it if not. The kill list meant that the targets could be killed if the situation called for it. Not exactly a hit list. They weren’t going out of their way to kill U.A. students, after all. Dabi would just get close.

“Looking for a rematch?” Dabi asked as blue flames shot out of his left palm like a tornado. Todoroki skated out of the way with his ice, smothering flames as he did so, and slid his right hand along the ground like he was rolling a ball and then an over-aggressive amount of ice jutted towards Dabi, just as he’d done during the Sports Festival. Dabi couldn’t dodge it this time, so he threw both hands out and let off an explosion of fire so massive that it knocked both him and Todoroki backwards and blew a hole in the roof. The building shook around and above them. Another blast like that and the whole thing would come crumbling down.

So focused on his fight with Todoroki, Dabi had completely forgotten about the civilian that he had considered giving a quick death. As far as he was concerned, the only person that mattered now was Todoroki. The villains that he had brought with him must have been dealing with the pro heroes outside. Good. That left Todoroki to him. Dabi wanted to see how they compared.

An ugly grin cut its way across Dabi’s face. He opened his mouth to attempt to goad Todoroki into talking when Dabi was suddenly struck by something sharp in the back. It sent him to one knee and he had to put a hand on the ground to keep himself from falling over. Nothing happened at first. He didn’t feel anything. But then a cold chill went over his whole body until everything began to tingle and his vision began to swim. With his free hand, he clutched at his chest, like he might be able to pull his erratically beating heart right out, and then began to struggle to breathe.

Somewhere around him, he thought he heard a voice shouting, “Dabi?” but he couldn’t be sure. Especially when his body froze without the help of any ice. He gasped in pain and shut his eyes tight as it felt like every muscle was being pulled together by a string and everything was turning upside down and he was drowning and he--

He--

He--

He opened his eyes, finding himself lying on his back and staring up at an unfamiliar ceiling that had a huge hole in it, the rafters covered with fire and ice. The fire. He blinked. There were spots of blue and orange. That was a familiar, if not welcomed, sight. His head hurt like a bitch, feeling like someone had whacked him in the skull with a textbook about twenty times.

Groaning in pain, he pushed himself up with his hands and then looked down in confusion when he found himself lying on a cold concrete ground half covered in ice. He slid his fingers across the ice, taking in the soothing feel of it, but the heat of the fire that surrounded him was beginning to make him uncomfortable. Finally, he raised his eyes and gaped at the scene around him.

Why the hell was he sitting in the middle of a completely destroyed warehouse filled with burning crates and large melting walls of ice?

A bolt of panic shot through him and he jumped to his feet, although he nearly collapsed all over again when a wave of dizziness overcame him. He put a hand on his head, willing it to go away, and then began to search for an exit, lifting his shirt over the bottom half of his face so that he wouldn’t breathe in so much smoke, but he was starting to hyperventilate.

Where the hell was he? What was he doing here? How had he gotten here?

He abruptly took notice of the shirt he was holding over his face. It was somewhere in between white and grey, but the biggest detail was that it was too large for him. It hung on him like a loose tent. Half his chest was hanging out of the v neck shirt, making him feel exposed. The black pants were also too big for him, so he went to tighten the white belt around his waist when the jacket took him off guard. It hung over his frame like his shoulders were a coat hanger, but it was the sleeves that caught his attention. There was some sort of metal on them, like something the support course would put on a hero costume.

What the fuck was he wearing?

There was little time to consider what the hell was happening when someone called out, “Ryouta?” and his eyes snapped forward, landing on a teenage boy gawking back at him in shock.

It felt as if a rock fell into the pit of his stomach and he choked on the smoke. The familiar face sent him reeling for multiple reasons. He looked like… With that two-toned hair and those mismatched eyes and that angry scar over the side of his face, the kid looked dead up like… “Shouto?”

The kid jerked back at the name, clearly affected by it. He shook his head. No, that had to be impossible. This kid was tall, sharp, muscular -- this one was older. Shouto was eleven. He might not be the soft, little boy that always rested in his mind’s eye, but this kid was…

Shouto was a boy.

But how likely was it that there was someone running around that looked exactly like Shouto, just a few years older?

“What the fuck is going on?” Ryouta demanded, pointing an accusing finger at him. “Who the fuck are you? I swear, if this is some kind of sick prank, I’m going to flip!”

The kid -- Shouto? (No, it wasn’t him!) -- couldn’t hide the disbelief from his face. His eyes (one gray and one the same blue he saw in the mirror) were wide and his eyebrows raised past his messy bangs. There was even a patch of ice on the right side of his cheek, just the way Shouto’s would do whenever he used his ice half of his quirk more than the fire half.

“This whole time it was you?” the kid asked, sounding utterly gutted.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Ryouta shouted back, panic and dread threatening to swallow him. He took a few hesitant steps back, but then had to shy away from a patch of blue fire. “I don’t know…”

That dizziness was coming over him and his vision began to swim again. The kid stepped closer to him, but he waved a sharp hand at him to get him to stop. The kid actually raised his arms in reaction, fire and ice both flaring up. Oh fuck, it was him. It was Shouto. It was his little brother. Except he wasn’t so little anymore and he didn’t know what was going on and there was so much fire and destruction and he was scared and his head was pounding and swimming in a fog.

This time, when he collapsed, he didn’t wake right back up, leaving Shouto to stare in utter confusion at the unconscious body of his older brother.

end notes:

A lot of thought was put into deciding what Dabi’s given name would be, since we don’t have it in canon yet. I (Mistystarshine) initially saw ‘Ryouta’ used in another work. The kanji 燎 means ‘burn’ or ‘bonfire’ while the kanji 他 means ‘another’. Quite literally ‘another fire quirk’. However, because I cannot just let myself be content, I did some more research and boy am I glad I did! It turns out that Ryouta can also be spelled with the kanji 凉 , which means ‘cool’. Specifically, this kanji generally applies in a pleasant sense, so like ‘nice and cool’ or ‘cool and refreshing’, but it is written using 冫,  the radical for ice. A radical is essentially a root word that can be narrowed down with more specific variations. For example, for the words ‘sunny’, ‘sunshine’, and ‘sunlight’, ‘sun’ would be the radical. All three words, while having different specific meanings, refer to the sun.

What does this mean and why is it worth giving a linguistics lesson over? It means that the name ‘Ryouta’ could mean ‘another fire quirk’ or ‘another cold quirk/another ice quirk’. That means that (although it would require changing some legal documents if they guessed wrong at first, since it is spelled differently, but the pronunciation is at least the same) the name would have fit whether the child manifested a fire quirk, an ice quirk, or both.

If we get a given name reveal and it turns out we guess wrong, we may go back and edit it. If we’re right, I will be insufferable. (Lanni edit: I’m a stubborn fool and will probably want to keep Ryouta out of spite because I LOVE IT.)

Also, did you know that Dabi’s scars have been shown smoking after he uses his quirk? Fun fact.