#well except for carrying a gigantic sign I suppose

[levemetal]

I humbly offer the svsss fandom this Yuebara plushie I made with this pattern. He is meant to be a shoulder buddy for SJ cosplay, once I find stronger magnets...

I made the embroidery file for the crown myself, it's very simplistic but if anyone wants it feel free to ask + say which format you need <3

[jeonsjiddies]

apodyopsis (m) | jjk

summary- apodyopsis (n.) ; the act of mentally undressing someone

alternatively, Jungkook is a nude model in your art class

rating- explicit / 18+ word count-  12k pairing- jungkook x reader genre- smut Warnings- daddy kink, slight degrading?, mild health concerns, very light bdsm?, masturbation, oral (female and male receiving), rough sex, kind of dom!jungkook, a little name calling?, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it bb)

blkjmn & dontaskshhhhh ( weak&wet ™) ;  2020 all rights reserved©

a/n: our lovechild is born! We worked so hard on this, we hope you love it as much as we do. Currently thanking my lucky stars that @blkjmn​ agreed to collab with me, and that she saved my life with that glorious sex scene because I can’t seem to stop writing mushy fluffy smut. I love you so much thank you for being by my side and co-writing this with me. <3

“There’s one last thing we need to discuss before you are signed, Mr. Jeon. Do we need to backtrack for a moment to review, or shall we continue on?” The business contractor asked, using his thumb and index finger to push his glasses up further onto his nose bridge.

Jungkook wasn’t registering a single word that left the man’s mouth. His eyes were glued to the fine print on the page that described the job he’d be keeping for likely most of his (young adult) life, or at least until he was able to successfully rid himself of the guilt that's been resting on his broad shoulders for the last ten years.

He would never be able to forget the way his mother’s face fell every time he was discharged from the hospital. Not only did she have no answers and a still sick child to take home, but she also had a weighty hospital bill to add to the others that she received about once a month. She worked her ass off to take care of him as best she could, even with the gigantic debt she kept under her belt for the entirety of his childhood.

All of this was hidden from Jungkook until he was told he had celiac disease at the age of ten. His symptoms had gotten worse the longer his condition remained unnoticed, even though he would complain to his mother of constant pain everyday, tearful eyes locking with hers as if begging for her to give him any sort of relief.

“Mommy, my stomach hurts!”

“I’m not hungry! It makes it worse to eat!”

“Can you please make it stop, mama?”

He cringes every time he thinks about what he must’ve put his mother through as a child, and how she always managed to push a smile even though she was fighting to make ends meet.

Even after all of that, he was hesitating on signing this contract because he was too shy? Bullshit. He’d be selfish if he were to deny this opportunity because of his underlying fear of being seen naked in front of a large audience of people.

He knew he had no real reason to be afraid, though. After constant teasing in school for being extremely thin due to his illness, he built up the courage to get himself a gym membership when his condition became less overbearing.

He ate more often, built up more muscle, and managed to become more confident in himself and his abilities.

So, what did he have to be nervous for?

Jungkook no longer had any issues with stripping himself down. His body was sculpted perfectly, and he had a massive dick to accompany the figure he had worked for so many years towards.

Sure, everything was all set for him, but not for his mom. Jungkook knew that she barely managed to make her rent last month.

He needed to sign this contract.

“Mr. Jeon?” Jungkok’s glossy eyes were blown wide. He hadn’t moved an inch in the past minute.

“Mr. Jeon…” The man rolled his eyes, obviously knowing that it would take a bit more than calling the young man’s name to get him out of whatever trance he’d put himself in. He slammed his fist down onto the table, and Jungkook’s eyes crossed for a moment before he jolted to his senses.

He cleared his throat, and immediately began sputtering apologies.

“I-I’m so sorry. I’m not quite sure what came over me, I-” The contractor held his hand up, effectively silencing the boy as he picked up the pen that sat to the right of him while offering it to Jungkook with a raised brow.

“If this is something that you are not going to take seriously, then you may escort yourself out of my office. If you’d like to begin your career in this field, then take this pen and sign this contract.” Jungkook didn’t hesitate in grabbing the pen from the man, immediately apologizing for the way he snatched it out of his grasp.

He gnawed on his bottom lip, eyes scanning over the words on the thin paper as if he hadn’t been in this chair reviewing them for the past three hours.

This job paid well, and he had nothing to risk.

Except for the probable denial of any office job he’d try to apply to.

Why would he want an office job anyway?

Probably because--

“Any day now, Mr. Jeon.” He cast an annoyed glance toward the man. Couldn’t he see that he was contemplating on signing the damn thing?

He sighed, stretched his neck from side to side, and lifted the pen to the paper with a shaking hand.

The moment he finished signing, the crumpled sheet was ripped from under his fingertips, and tucked away into the desk of who Jungkook really hoped wouldn’t be his boss.

“It’s nice to have you along, kid.” Jungkook smiled nervously.

“You’ve got a great look, but of course, nude modeling is about what’s under the clothes.” His face instantly began to pale as he gripped the armrests of the chair he sat in.

Was this old dude asking to see him naked? Right now?

“You can step inside of the bathroom behind me to change. There should be a robe hanging on the door. Put it on, meet me outside, and we’ll take a few pictures for your portfolio.”

Jungkook sat still in the chair, staring at the man across from him with those adorable eyes widened in slight panic.

He was trying to pull himself up so he wouldn’t look like a fumbling idiot, but he couldn’t move a limb.

There was no turning back now, and he was fully aware of that.

“Am I… am I supposed to be naked for the f-first photo shoot?” Jungkook asked, his voice weak.

The contractor raised an eyebrow. It was normal for newcomers to be nervous, but he couldn’t understand why it was so difficult for him to follow directions.

In due time, he supposed.

“No, Jungkook.” The contractor sighed, pressing his thumb and middle finger against his temples in distress. Jungkook noted that this was the first time the man had addressed him formally as well, so it was probably in his best interest to go get changed if he didn’t want to get fired before he officially started the job.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” He said, standing from the chair as he looked over the contractor’s shoulder to the bathroom. It seemed to be decently sized, and he could really use some time alone to get his nerves settled before he had to… well, pose naked for the camera.

Well, not naked. Not this time. That’s what the contractor said.

He looked toward the man one last time, before he began pushing himself in the direction of the bathroom. Upon approaching it, he could pick up the smell of lavender coming from the candles that were lit inside.

He opened the door, and immediately turned around to close and lock it.

He checked to make sure the door was locked before he pulled his shirt over his head and carefully pulled each of his shoes off.

He checked once more as he unbuckled his pants.

He checked one final time as he threw his belt to the floor.

Jungkook slid his thumbs in between his hips and the fabric of the jeans as he tugged them down toward the ground. He had no issue with this as of yet, seeing as he was still in his boxers.

He pressed his body up against the wall, giving himself something to lean up against as he took his jeans off and threw them toward the pile of his clothes he created on the floor.

The boxers were all that were left.

“Come on, man.” He whispered to himself, glaring at his reflection in the mirror as he began to get annoyed at his own anxiousness.

It was just a couple of pictures, and he’d be covered by a robe. He was acting like a wreck for no reason.

He closed his eyes and yanked the boxers down in one swift motion, knowing that if he hesitated, he probably would’ve just left them on.

Jungkook shivered as the cold air went straight to his dick, and he almost knocked one of the candles over and sent the bathroom up into flames as he lunged for the robe that was near the door.

It was soft and fluffy, and it also carried the faint scent of the lavender that engulfed his senses. It was warm as well, like a heated towel.

Maybe this wasn’t so bad, then.

He noticed that there were a pair of flimsy sandals sitting near the door as he prepared to leave. He was never told to put them on, or to mess with them at all, but he’d rather not walk around with his bare feet, so he slid them on anyway.

He checked his reflection once more, adjusting the robe a bit so it hung loosely around his waist, and so more of his chest could be exposed.

Sure, he was nervous, but that didn’t mean that he wasn’t going to put on a good show.

He ran his hands down his sides, purposely brushing them over his cock as he considered giving it a few quick pumps before he made his way outside.

That’d be sure to leave a great first impression, which was what he was going for, but it’d be obvious that he was touching himself because his face would blush bright red.

He reached down to grab his clothes, folding them somewhat neatly. He grabbed his shoes and sat them on top of the stack of clothes he’d made.

Worry began to bubble in his stomach once he stepped out of the bathroom to find himself alone in the large office room, but he quickly remembered that he was told to meet the guy outside.

He hummed a small tune as he took quick steps toward the office door, placing his large hand upon the knob and opening it slowly, just in case his boss (Jungkook decided to assume that’s who this man was going to become. It’s better to wish for the worst anyway, right?) was right in front of the door.

Once he didn’t feel any force being pressed against the door, he opened it carefully and shimmied his way out of the office. He pressed his back against it to close it, and this small action caught the attention of his boss, who was sitting on a small bench a few feet away from the office.

“Great! You’re all changed.” The man smiled gently at him, clapping his hands together as he stood up and quickly approached Jungkook.

Jungkook stumbled back a few steps, confused by this sudden change of behavior. Was it because he was finally complying, or was it because he was about to be used for profit?

Either way, he didn’t mind. It’d be a hell of a lot easier to work in a less stressful environment, so he’d take what he could get.

“Uh, yeah… I wasn’t sure of where to put my clothes,” Jungkook began, holding up his clothes as he spoke, “so I decided to—“

“Ah, thank you for the reminder!” The man spoke, retreating back toward the bench he sat on to fetch an unmarked black bookbag from behind it.

He handed it to Jungkook, who took it thankfully and with a small smile.

“When do I return this to you?” Jungkook asked, not bothering to look toward his boss as he spoke as he was busy stuffing his belongings into the bag.

“It’s yours to keep, son.” Jungkook closed the bag and stood up, tossing it lazily over one of his shoulders as he raised his eyebrows in surprise.

“Oh, thank you so much.” He smiled sincerely. He was especially thankful that it was unmarked, because if he were to wear the bag out in public, he’d hate for someone to actually read the company name and google it, only to find pictures of him covered with only a robe on the home page.

He shivered at the thought.

“The studio is actually on this floor, so we haven’t got far of a walk at all.” His boss began to walk, and Jungkook followed a few feet behind him as he began to survey his surroundings at each turn they took.

“Now, there will be a handful of people in this room with you. Other models, photographers, of course, lighting specialists, stylists, and a few possible employers.” Jungkook hummed as the man spoke, ignoring every word that was coming out of his mouth as his heart began to thud loudly in his chest.

He didn’t need this explanation, anyway. The average person knows a little something about how a photo shoot works.

Even though he was a considerable distance away from his boss, he was almost sure that he could hear the thudding in his chest.

“Every single one of the people waiting in this room are going to do their best to make you look good, so there’s no need to worry. Relax, and you focus on making the company look good.” He laughed throatily, and Jungkook laughed stiffly from behind him.

‘Make the company look good my ass,’ Jungkook thought.

He rolled his eyes, almost crashing directly into the short man in front of him as they abruptly stopped at a door tucked away into the corner of the hallway they were on.

“This is it. Do you have anything else to ask of me?” Jungkook hurriedly said no, his nerves being replaced by the excitement to show himself off a bit.

“Alright.” The man nodded once before he opened the door, and once again, Jungkook was slapped in the dick with a blast of cold air.

He raised his eyebrows in interest as he surveyed the few models that were scattered about the different sets that were spread apart in the room. One set was sexy and seductive, dripping in elements of crimson and black, another was a bit more fun, which used orange and yellow to contrast against the white, and Jungkook couldn’t even conjure up the words to describe the other sets.

He continued to watch the models pose as if this was natural for them, flinching every now and then at the bright light that would flash every time a picture was taken.

He also noted that all of the models were nude.

They seemed to be masters of their talents, so maybe Jungkook got to leave the robe on because he was an amateur?

“Shit.” Jungkook cursed under his breath. Another cool draft of wind ran through the room, and he scurried to look down and pull the robe over his thighs.

Jungkook heaved a sigh of relief once he successfully covered himself, and his boss quickly strolled over to him to grab the bag off of his shoulder. Jungkook immediately looked over to ask him what he was doing, but before he got the chance, he was being whisked away by a manicured hand.

Everything moved quickly, but this should’ve been what Jungkook was expecting. This wasn’t just about his money.

He was thrown onto a couch near the center of the room, which was white just like the walls.

As soon as his ass touched the couch cushions, there were at least four people crowding over him to add some blush to his cheeks, and add some hairspray to his hair.

He was startled, but he didn’t mind the chaotic environment. It reminded him very much of the hospital he frequented when he was younger, and the thought of him finally being able to help his mom out after so long brought a smile to his face.

After the clutter of bodies went away, Jungkook was left alone on the couch with a camera pointed directly at him.

He gulped, his mouth suddenly dry.

The man behind the camera snapped a few shots of Jungkook to test the quality of the photos, and once he was pleased with what he saw, he stared expectantly at Jungkook with a raised brow.

“Uh…” Jungkook began.

“Take your robe off.” He stated bluntly. Jungkook choked, and immediately looked to where he saw his boss last, but he was nowhere to be found.

That fucker.

“I—I thought that I—“

“You may want to be quick about it, too. Time is money, and the more pictures we take of you, the better your chances are at being promoted.” Jungkook sighed.

If there was one thing he needed, it was money.

Hell, that’s what he got the job for.

He slowly brought his hands down to the sash that was holding the robe together and undid it, tossing it next to him on the couch.

He smirked lightly when he heard a few of the women standing behind the photographer gasp, quickly scanning every one of their faces to see their shocked expressions.

Jungkook could read the women easily. They all bit their lips, winked, or waved flirtatiously as he made eye contact with them, except for one woman.

She smiled teasingly at him, although she was seemingly unimpressed with his level of confidence. She raised an eyebrow tauntingly, pretending as if she didn’t understand why everyone was reacting as if they’d never seen a penis before. Though her cool exterior radiated disinterest, Jungkook could see past her facade, her eyes gave everything away. He could see the desire in her y/e/c irises. Jungkook understood, he felt it too.

Jungkook returned the smile, oddly at ease by her presence. He absentmindedly licked his lips as he raked his eyes up and down the curves of her figure.

She wore a long sleeved shirt that hugged her frame perfectly, a tight skirt that rested a few inches above her knees, and a pair of black heels that made her legs look absolutely stunning from where Jungkook was sitting.

He was sure they’d still look delicious if he were to take a closer look, which he wouldn’t mind in the slightest.

His mind wandered, images of her naked body flashing behind his eyelids. He lost himself in his daydreams of kissing up her legs while she squirmed underneath him.

What the hell is wrong with him? He was made to be the one receiving suggestive glances, but here he was, blatantly checking out the cute girl that was just trying to make him comfortable.

The girl broke eye contact with him, and he immediately looked away as well, squirming slightly in his seat as he felt his cock harden between his legs.

He made no effort to hide it, but he did close his legs a bit to make it less obvious.

He did not just get a boner because he made eye contact with a pretty girl.

Well, on the bright side, he didn’t have to worry about getting himself hard in the bathroom.

He glanced over in the lady’s direction once more, pouting once he noticed that she was no longer paying any attention to him, instead scribbling something down on a notepad she held in her small hands.

Why did he want her attention so bad?

“Alright,” The photographer began, bringing Jungkook back down to earth, “Keep it natural. The more relaxed you feel, the better your photos will turn out.” Jungkook nodded, a bit more eager than he should’ve been to begin his first session.

“Perfect!” The photographer yelled, snapping one last photo of Jungkook before he closed the lens of his camera and began to pack up his equipment.

Most of the other models and workers filed out already, and Jungkook was overly thankful that it would be his turn to leave this room next.

Jungkook thought the shoot went very well, as it was very easy for him to… keep himself encouraged throughout, thanks to that pretty lady.

He relaxed from his position, in which he was leaned forward, his elbows propped onto his knees as he smirked cockily at the camera.

He wasn’t sure of what to do just yet, waiting for his liar of a boss to make himself shown again.

Especially considering that the man had his clothes and shoes.

Jungkook sighed and closed his eyes, pressing his back into the couch as he breathed in and out slowly. He continued like this for a few moments, until he could hear heels tapping against the floor in his direction.

He opened one of his eyes, taking a peek at who was walking toward him.

Jungkook immediately sat up upon noticing that it was the woman with the sexy legs that kept his dick hard through the entirety of his shoot.

She approached him with a friendly smile, and Jungkook returned her sincerity with a smile of his own.

“Could I take a seat?” She motioned toward the empty spot on the couch next to him. Jungkook nodded once.

“Of course.” He moved over a bit, his cock swinging against his inner thigh as he did so.

It was then that he realized that he was absolutely naked still, so he grabbed the robe that laid over the arm of the couch and threw it on, as if the woman hadn’t already seen everything he had to offer— and more.

“Thank you!” She smiled at him. ”I’m Y/N.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Y/N. I’m Jungkook.” She chuckled at this. Jungkook was confused as to what she found funny, maybe his name?

He gripped the robe between his fingers, nervously running the pads of them over the soft material as he pondered over what could’ve made the tempting woman in front of him giggle so sweetly.

“Why’re you laughing?” She noticed his nerves return, a knowing smirk on her lips as she watched the way he shyly avoided eye contact with her.

“I already know who you are, Mr. Jeon.” She tossed her hair over her shoulder. It’s almost as if she knew she was enticing.

“You did some great work today, you know?” She flashed him an adorable smile again.

It was something about the way that ‘Mr. Jeon’ rolled off of her tongue that was driving Jungkook up the wall.

“Look, I know this may seem a bit forward, but you radiate great potential.” Jungkook nodded, thanking her quietly, as she pulled out that notepad that she was scribbling in when she was too busy to give him attention while he was posing sexily.

“I conduct an art class at a community center, and I’d love it if you were to drop by and model for me a bit, since you’ve gotten the swing of things fairly quickly.” She giggled, as she ripped out the page from the small book and handed it to him gently.

“Please, feel free to decline if you’re uncomfortable, but if you’d like to give it a try then give me a call.” She eyed him carefully as he picked up the paper and read over it.

“That’s my personal number, so you can call me whenever you’d like.” Something about that sentence put an image into Jungkook’s head.

“Alright, I’ll get out of your hair now.” She stood up, collecting her belongings as she did so.

“If I never run into you again, then it’s been a pleasure, Jungkook.” She proceeded to walk away, leaving him on the couch alone.

Jungkook lingered just outside the door of the art room, his stomach twisting with nerves. When he’d first been approached about modeling, he’d laughed it off. It started off with easy stuff, brand deals and commercial advertisements. How did he end up here? Posing nude in front of a group of strangers to pick apart his body for their art? This was the best paying gig he’d ever been presented with… the small advertising gigs had been a couple hundred at best but this one would put a sizable dent in his mother’s debt, easing her misfortune. Jungkook had to do this. For her.

He held his head high and strolled into the room with a confident air, any trace of his uneasiness washed away. He glanced around at the unfamiliar faces, carefully watching his every move. He smiled in a greeting, until his eyes landed on you. His face lit up at seeing your familiar face and your heart clenched at the sight.  Should Jungkook have found comfort in your deceptively soft eyes? No. Did he? Absolutely. Your sharp tongue didn’t phase him too badly, not when he could see the tenderness in your eyes.

“Good morning, Mr. Jeon.” you smiled, extending your hand in an invitation.

Jungkook reached out, enveloping your small hand in his own larger one, shaking it professionally. He reveled at how soft your skin was.

“Good morning, Ms. Y/L/N.” he greeted. “Good morning, everyone.” he addressed the rest of the room. “Please call me Jungkook.”

“Alright. Jungkook here is going to be our model. Long gone are the days of fruit baskets. Here is where the fun begins.” you smirked, sending a raised eyebrow Jungkook’s way.

In spite of himself, Jungkook blushed under your suggestive gaze.

“Now, don’t forget that this is for art.” you emphasized. “The human body is a work of art and I expect you to treat it as such. Take this seriously. Okay?”

Most heads nodded automatically, a few older women rolled their eyes or stole looks from each other, mocking you. You were placing a young, muscular man in front of them without clothes. How did you expect them not to ogle?

“For this particular piece, we’re going to be exploring how to use charcoal to get those little details. Don’t forget your shading!” you chimed happily. “Ready, Jungkook?”

“I think so.” he smiled.

“Show us what you got.” you grinned, stepping back and sitting at your own easel.

Jungkook’s hands trembled a bit as he unbuttoned his shirt, trying his best to 1. Not look like a total basket case and 2. Not make it super sensual. Deft fingers worked their way down his shirt and soon the material was sliding off his body in a way he felt was unceremoniously, but judging from the mouths hanging open around the room, might’ve been a bit more enticing than he’d intended.

Jungkook’s chest was absolutely flawless, in your opinion. You were one of the few who managed to keep your tongue inside your mouth for the show, but that didn’t stop your eyes from wandering over his toned physique. Sure you’d seen him at his photography shoot, but he was wearing a robe and you were trying to be professional. Now, hidden behind your easel, you were free to really take him in.

His chiseled chest, the deep ridges of his toned abs, the smoothness of his skin, the light dusting of hair that teased its way under his jeans. He was a walking wet dream. Your mouth watered as your gaze followed the lines of his V. Jungkook popped open the button of his jeans, tugging the zipper down as well. You’d never been so entranced by a simple movement in your life. The man radiated sexual energy.

He shimmied his hips free of the denim, his every movement captivating his audience.  Firm hip bones, luscious thick thighs, deliciously tanned skin were all slowly revealed as he tugged the jeans off in one fluid motion. Maybe he should be a stripper instead of a model… You shook the thought away, but it lingered. Jungkooks movements faltered for a moment, his eyes seeking yours for comfort. You smiled reassuringly at him, and that was all he needed to tug his boxers over his delicious thighs and let his glorious cock free.

“Holy shit.” you heard from somewhere behind you.

“He reminds me of a lover I once had in Prague. I’d sneak him into my hotel room and we’d make love until the sun came up. I miss being young.”

Jungkook coughed and brought his arm up to cover the flush spreading across his cheeks at the older woman’s inappropriate comment. You bit back a laugh.

“Alright Jungkook, just make yourself comfortable and we’ll start drawing you, okay?” you instructed, attempting to take his mind off of the earlier comment.

“Okay.” he nodded, settling himself on the stool you’d set out for him, resisting the urge to strike a pose he knew he wouldn’t be able to hold.

The room grew quiet save for the scratch of charcoal on canvas as the class began attempting to do justice to Jungkook’s beauty in their renditions of him. You began by tracing an outline of his body, opting not to attempt any details yet. The pink tint that rested upon the apple of your cheeks was hard to ignore, and you weren’t sure you could handle trying to get details of certain areas just yet.

You did your best to ignore the effect Jungkook’s naked body was having on your own fully clothed one. He was ethereal, beautiful, the kind of man you could lose yourself in. He had charisma, a way about him that just drew people in. Or maybe it was just you. Every time your eyes locked with his, it was like he was the only thing you could focus on. Everything else was obsolete.

Jungkook held a power over you that honestly scared you a little, and he didn’t even know he did. He didn’t understand how magnetic he was. Sure, he was sexy and he knew it. He’d obviously spent hours painstakingly sculpting his body to perfection, but it wasn’t even just his flawless physique, it wasn’t just his gorgeous, greek-god-like face. His power was inside of him, his strength, his determination, that spark in his gaze.

Jungkook was different from the rest, whether he realized it or not. He was special. Everything about him invited you in and coaxed you to give all of yourself to him. You couldn’t stop your thoughts from wondering as you lazily sketched the outline of him. How would his skin feel under your touch? Heat flooded your veins as you imagined what his touch might feel like in return. You shook these thoughts away, focusing on the task at hand and trying to see Jungkook as nothing more than art you were depicting. You were going to make certain you got every detail correct. And for that, you needed to focus.

Jungkook forced himself to look anywhere but at the people who were gawking at his naked frame. He couldn’t stop himself from watching you though.  He found himself wondering what you thought of him. He wanted to see what you were doing on your canvas. He wanted you to look at him. As if reading his thoughts, you lifted your gaze and faltered when you found his already upon you. When your eyes met and he bit his lip in a nervous smile, you knew you were screwed.

The next time you saw Jungkook was a week later. Your class had nearly doubled in size as word spread of the toned man with the impressive cargo. You rolled your eyes to yourself but greeted your new arrivals with the same professional smile. You couldn’t blame them, not really. Would you have passed up the opportunity to see him naked again? Hell no. He was already undressed when you’d arrived, running late after a meeting with the program director congratulating you on your ability to gain interest in your class.

“Sorry I’m late!” you announced to the class, then to Jungkook specifically with an apologetic look.

“That’s alright dearie.” one of the older women commented, and you sent her a gracious smile.

“So! For those of you who are new, you can partner up with someone and observe or you can find your own Canvas located on the tables in the back. If you need any help please let me know, since you weren’t here for the introductory lessons.”

“Does she really think we’re here just to draw?” you heard a whisper from the back of the room.

“I know. I didn’t believe Karen when she told me an asian boy with a giant dong was modeling for her community center art class. I had to see for myself.” another voice giggled.

“If I were 15 years younger, I would climb that boy like a tree. I may be old enough to be his mother, but I could still give him a run for his money.”

“Mmm.. I wonder what he can do with those fingers. I bet he has stamina for days.”

You glanced up at Jungkook, who was actively trying to hide his discomfort, shifting a little on the stool as he attempted to stay still. You cleared your throat, loudly, sending a pointed look to the two women in the back.

“I just want to remind our newcomers that this class is about art, not objectification. Please remain respectful. If you can’t manage that, I’m sure you can manage to find the door.” you nearly hissed.

They shrugged sheepishly and grew quiet. You huffed in annoyance, glancing back at Jungkook again, who sent you an appreciative smile. You nodded, focusing on your canvas in front of you once more.

Once class was over and the others had filed out, you walked up to Jungkook as he was buttoning his jeans. He looked up from his task and greeted you with a warm smile.

“Hey, Y/N.” he grinned, apparently forgetting he still needed to put a shirt on.

You used every brain cell you had to keep yourself from staring at his chiseled chest.

“Hey Jungkook.” you smiled. “Are you okay? Did those women make you uncomfortable? I can ask them not to come back.”

“Oh it’s okay!” he assured you, placing a hand on your shoulder, “I appreciate the offer but I don’t want to be a bother. It did make me kind of uncomfortable but they stopped so it’s okay.”

“Are you sure? They said some pretty inappropriate things.” you pressed.

“I don’t mind that what they said was inappropriate,” he explained, “it’s more that they were talking about me like I wasn’t even here. Like I was some sex doll or something. I don’t mind women finding me attractive, but I do have sustenance.”

“I get it. You shouldn’t be objectified while you’re doing your job.” you told him.

“Kind of hard to remind people I have dignity when I’m standing in front of them in all my naked glory. I can see how that might be distracting.” he winked playfully.

“Ah, there’s that cocky personality.” you threw back at him with a grin.

“Seriously though. Thank you for being on my side.” he told you sincerely.

Electricity shot through your body when he leaned in and gave you a gentle hug. You took a deep breath to steady yourself but that only resulted in breathing in the scent of him, musky and woodsy, yet sweet. It reminded you of cinnamon.  It was intoxicating.

You desperately ignored the ache between your thighs and wrapped your arms around him to reciprocate his affections. His body seemed to relax against yours and the embrace lasted a little longer than a hug between mostly strangers should. He pulled away but held you at arms length to watch your features for a moment.

“See, now that’s the kind of look I don’t mind from a woman. Especially one as beautiful as you.” he smirked, turning and grabbing his shirt off the stool before sauntering away and shooting you a shit eating grin as you stand frozen in place.

You shot up, waking with a fright. Your chest heaved as you struggled to catch your breath. Images flashing through your mind once more. Your subconscious thoughts led way to the hottest sex dream you’d ever experienced, and of course the star was your male model. You couldn’t stop picturing  his mouth on you, his hands on you. You shook your head to clear it. Alone in your bed, you couldn’t get that cocky grin out of your mind. You tried to fight it, you really did. You tried to redirect your mind anywhere but his plump lips, his perfectly sculpted jaw, the way his warm skin felt against yours when he’d hugged you…

Shrouded in shame but overcome with desire, you let your hand dance down your stomach underneath the elastic of your pajama shorts, your fingers finding their way to your slit. You closed your eyes, imagining it was Jungkook’s fingers inside you instead. You pumped them slowly in and out of yourself.

“Ungh… fuck. Jungkook.” you whined, writhing against your fingers, trying to find that spot that drove you crazy.

You picked up the pace, letting your fingers find a delicious rhythm inside of you, wondering what it would feel like if it were Jungkook inside of you instead. His cock was so pretty. It took everything you had not to stand up and start sucking it every time you saw it.

“Jungkook.” left your lips as your whines got louder, moving your attention to circle at your clit with your juices as lubrication.

You wished you had a picture of him to look at while you pleasured yourself to the idea of him, but you let your imagination take control, replaying images from your dream, and creating new fantasies about the model with the sultry eyes. You were close, and the closer you got to the edge, the louder you became. You swore you could almost hear the faint sound of Jungkook’s labored breathing along with your own, but it must’ve been your imagination running wild.

Your orgasm crashed over you, Jungkook’s name leaving your lips repeatedly, like he was the only thought you could muster when your brain turned off and your high took over. You fucked yourself through it, soft whimpers leaving your mouth as you pulled your fingers out. You padded your way to the bathroom to wash up, climbing back into bed not nearly as satiated as you’d hoped to have been. You drifted to sleep anyway, thoughts of Jungkook and the hope of seeing him again soon on the forefront of your mind when unconsciousness took over.

Jungkook was early today, you noticed as you walked into the art room. You were the first two to have arrived, you wanted to make up for being late the previous week.

“Hey. What are you doing here so early?” you asked, setting your bag down as you made your way over to him.

“Needed to talk to you.” he responded, voice low and husky.

“Everything okay?” you asked, concern filling your chest.

“No. Everything is not okay.” he hissed, trapping you against the wall.

You shivered at the sudden change in his demeanor, at his body so close to yours, at the dominating tone of his voice.

“I’ve been horny as hell all week.” he grunted, rutting his hips into yours.

“O-oh.” was all you could muster for a response, your body immediately reacting to his movements and sending moisture to your core.

“Imagine my surprise when I got a call from you late Saturday night.” he smirked, lips ghosting over the hollow of your throat, allowing his cool breath to fan against the area. He watched your skin flush crimson and felt your heart rate pick up.

Saturday night? You hadn’t called him. Saturday night you were… oh.

“Do you have any idea how fucking sexy you sound when you’re moaning my name?” he teased, rolling his hips and pulling them back before pinning you to the wall with them once more, his erection pressed firmly against your aching heat.

“I-” you began to explain, but he cut you off.

“Fuck, the way you sound when you cum… I nearly came too. Listening to you fuck yourself for me. Tell me, what were you thinking about when your fingers sunk into that pretty little pussy? Was it my mouth?” he questioned, letting his lips graze along the shell of your ear.

“Was it my cock?” he ground his hardened member into you once more. “Maybe it was my tongue.” he mused, licking a bold stripe from the swell of your breasts to your collarbone.

A whimper was forced from your throat at his ministrations. You were hyper aware of every breath Jungkook took, feeling his body move against yours. You were also aware that at any moment, people were going to start filing through the door for class.

“Jungkook.” you breathed, a warning.

Or was it a promise?

Jungkook groaned, biting down on the side of your neck and sucking a purple bruise into the exposed flesh, then blowing cold air over the injured spot to soothe it. Your entire body shivered. Jungkook’s head turned as he heard footsteps approach the door. With a pointed look directly into your eyes, he stepped back from you and put much needed space between his body and yours, just in time for the first arrival to walk through the door.

You must’ve been a sight to behold, flushed and breathing heavily while pressed up against the wall. You hadn’t been able to make yourself move after Jungkook stepped away. He looked unbothered, but you were about to burst. You could feel your arousal slipping down your leg. You cursed yourself for wearing a skirt.

Jungkook, however, was thrilled with your outfit choice for the day. Especially since once you’d taken your seat at your easel, he had a front row view of your white lacy panties. Jungkook had already stripped naked for today’s modeling session, having put all of his effort into calming his dick down so he wasn’t hard in front of everyone. However, his efforts were moot when he noticed the dark wet patch imprinted on the ivory fabric that covered your heat.

Jungkook bit down on his lip, nearly drawing blood as his eyes latched onto your core. You shifted in your seat, attempting to press your thighs together to find some relief, an action which made Jungkook smirk to himself. Until his cock started reacting. In front of everyone. Jungkook wasn’t sure if he was more turned on or more embarrassed when he noticed your gaze unwavering on his hardening member. Your mouth hung open slightly, drool pooling at the edges. Jungkook chuckled to himself.

The other members of the class were just as astonished as you were, but Jungkook paid them no mind. All he could think about was getting inside of you. He couldn’t stop picturing the way your pupils had blown out just at his words, the way your breath hitched when he touched you. He bet you’d be so responsive when his fingers came to tease along your folds. He wondered how tight you were, if you’d be as loud as you were on the phone or even louder? Surely he could make you scream if you’d been that loud with just your own fingers?

Jungkook gave up trying to control his raging boner the moment he saw your arousal pooled at your core on display for him. Suddenly, he saw your hand sneak between your legs and tease along the ivory fabric. His gaze snapped up to your face, your eyes alight with mischief when they met his own. Your fingers pushed the damp fabric aside and began circling around your clit. Jungkook was the only one who could see from his position at the front of the room.

You were putting on a show for him, torturing him when he could do nothing about it. His eyes narrowed as he glared at you, but your face remained impassive, the epitome of feigned innocence. But like always, Jungkook saw the real you behind your heavy lidded gaze. You couldn’t hide from him, he could read you like an open book. There was nothing innocent about the way you were licking your lips, slowly dragging the swollen flesh between your teeth teasingly.

Your fingers spread your folds so Jungkook had a perfect view of your clit as you began rubbing it in slow circles. Jungkook’s eyes were glued to your bundle of nerves and the way your fingers teased at it. You gathered some of your slick to coat your fingers and lubricate them so they slid along your cunt with ease. Your digits were shiny, covered in your arousal. Jungkook nearly came when he watched in agony as you inserted two fingers into your entrance, pulling them back out and twisting them so he could watch the light reflect off your wetness. You stuck them in your mouth and sucked your juices off seductively before going back to your sketch.

Jungkook could not wait to punish your naughty behavior. He couldn’t wait to wipe that satisfied smirk off your face with an expert flick of his tongue. You had an attitude now, but once he was balls deep inside that soaking wet pussy he was sure you wouldn’t be quite so eager to tease him. You weren’t going to cum until you were crying and begging for it, he’d already made up his mind.

The minutes ticked by excruciatingly slow, each passing second felt like an eternity as Jungkook waited for class to be over. It felt like his dick twitched every time the little hand on the clock did. No matter what he did, no matter what he thought of, Jungkook could not get his erection to subside. His thoughts only led back to the lewd way you’d sucked your own arousal off your fingers.

Jungkook thought he might cry tears of joy when you finally dismissed the class with a chipper wave of your hand and a sweet smile. The second the last person walked out the door, Jungkook shut it and you heard the click of the lock echo throughout the empty room. You swallowed nervously, bending over to grab your bag, earning a hearty laugh from Jungkook.

“Oh baby girl… you really think I’m just going to let you leave after the little show you put on for me?” he purred, advancing toward you quickly until his body was flush against yours, breath tickling the space below your ear. “So naughty, teasing daddy like that.” he tsked.

His fingers trailed their way up your arm, leaving goosebumps in their wake. You shivered under his touch, though it was barely even there. His skin danced along yours, coming to rest at the curve of your breasts.

“Mmm… I think I’d like to taste these.” he grinned, suddenly yanking your tank top down so that both of your nipples were exposed to the bitter cold of the room.

A smirk played on his lips at the gasp that snuck its way past yours. His head dipped, and you thought he’d immediately take one of your nipples in his mouth, you were salivating over the thought of his warm, wet mouth on your perky buds. Instead, his pillow soft lips found yours, his tongue roaming along until you parted your lips and granted him access.

His tongue danced with yours as he brought his hips closer to grind into your aching center. You had never wanted anyone as badly as you wanted Jungkook. The man pressed against you had you brainless and ready to do anything he asked with a  simple roll of his hips.

Jungkook decided he didn’t like being the only naked one, and pulled your shirt above your head. Were you shivering from the cold air or Jungkook’s predatory gaze? Hell if you knew. Jungkook’s nimble fingers had your bra unhooked in a suspiciously short amount of time but you paid that no mind. He flung it across the room and his mouth was on your breast in an instant. Slick tongue working against your erect nipple while the other was massaged by his large hand. Every movement of his tongue, every playful pinch of his forefinger and thumb against your sensitive skin was sending lightning bolts straight down to your heat.

Jungkook’s mouth left your breast with an audible “pop!” since he sucked the flesh as he pulled away, switching his efforts to the neglected side, this time mixing it up by grazing his teeth ever so softly along the most sensitive part. Soft whimpers left you and you effectively became putty in his hands... and mouth. His tongue darted out to give a final flick against your sensitive bud before his hot kisses descended south. He kissed along the expanse of your stomach, slowly working his way down, sucking and nibbling as he went to leave small bruises dotted over your skin. He flipped your skirt up, exposing the lacy white panties that had been taunting him for hours, and the dark wet patch where your arousal soaked through them. Jungkook let out a growl, ripping the ivory fabric from your body and tossing it aside, revealing your pussy to him.

“So fucking beautiful. Better than I’d imagined.” He praised.

Without warning, his tongue darted out and swiped along your folds. Your knees buckled but Jungkook’s strong arms held you up, hands on either of your hips to keep you still and pressed against the wall while he worked his tongue along your slit then against your throbbing clit.

“Shit!” You cried out, body jolting forward and hands coming to rest on his shoulders when his plump lips wrapped around the sensitive bundle and sucked harshly.

Jungkook showed no mercy, devouring your cunt like it was his death row meal, the final wish of a man with nothing to lose. He lapped at your juices as if it were the last thing he’d ever do. Your entire body was thrumming, shaking violently as your orgasm was wretched out of you with no warning.

His name fell from your lips like a prayer, or a curse, you weren’t sure. The only thing you could focus on was the blinding white euphoria his tongue had shoved you headfirst into. You would’ve collapsed if Jungkook hadn’t held you up, allowing you to slowly sink to your knees to meet his posture as your body twitched and shook at the aftermath of your mind blowing high. Your breathing ragged and your eyes wide, you watched the satisfied smile appear on his angelic face. Cocky bastard. Sexy, skilled, ridiculously beautiful cocky bastard.

“Still feeling like a tease?” Jungkook asked, swiping his tongue over his bottom lip as he raised an eyebrow at you. Your chest was rising and falling rapidly, and all of his words sounded like another language at the moment.

“What?” You asked, causing him to laugh a bit at your clearly fucked out state of mind. Although the both of you were stripped down to almost nothing (save your skirt) and on your knees in the ground, it was clear who held the power between the two of you.

“You wanna taste yourself on my tongue?” He offered, already beginning to lean forward as he reached his arm out to pull your body closer to his, but you shook your head, an idea playing in the back of your head as you quickly conjured up a plan that’d have him weak and panting instead.

“I’d rather taste you on my own. Stand up.” You ordered.

He raised an eyebrow, surprised by your cute attempt at telling him what to do as if he hadn’t successfully put you in your place a minute or two ago. He stood nonetheless, vaguely interested in whatever you had up your sleeve. His goal was to make you suffer, but he supposed you could have a bit of fun before he fucked you brainless over that desk that sat a few feet away from the two of you.

You shifted yourself around a bit, as did he, so he now had his back pressed against the wall. You sat submissively under him, although Jungkook was anything but while he had ravaged your sweetness with his tongue.

“You’re pretty with your thighs around my face, but there’s just something about you on your knees.” Jungkook teased, his cockiness never failing to make an appearance as he ran a hand through your hair in appreciation.

You hummed to thank him, a sly smile of your own playing on your lips as you slowly lifted your small hand up to his cock. This small action alone had him tensing up completely, hissing quietly as you squeezed your hand loosely against his length repeatedly until he had to intertwine his fingers with your locks and pull your head up.

“You’d better stop unless you want to walk out of this room with my cum dripping down your face.” He warned.

You shrugged, leaning forward a bit, placing your free hand on his thigh while you stroked his cock slowly, your eyes honing in on the clear liquid that leaked from the tip of his length. You licked your lips at the thought of swiping it away with your tongue, but you weren’t supposed to give in this easily. This wasn’t a part of your plan, but you’d give anything just to keep seeing the expression of pure ecstasy on his face.

You continued to stroke him with your hand, purposely digging your nails into his thigh to see if it’d bring a reaction out of him. A shiver ran from his spine to the tips of his toes as you did this, and you couldn’t help the giggle that slipped past your lips.

“You like a little pain?” You teased, narrowing your eyes at him in defiance as you stuck your tongue out, pressing it slowly against his shaft.

You licked a stripe from his balls to the angry tip, looking up at him through your lashes as you swiped the precum away like you originally intended.

It was just as salty as you expected it to be, but you didn’t mind at all. You closed your eyes as you brought your tongue back into your mouth, pressing your lips together and swallowing slowly as you allowed the taste of him to burn down your throat.

“You taste just as good as you look.” You commented seductively, pressing a chaste kiss to his cock head and swirling your tongue around it once more before you began to spread your lips over the expanse of his cock.

Now, you’d definitely had your experience with this sort of thing once or twice before, but Jungkook was big, and there was no way you were fitting your pretty mouth over all of him, no matter how desperately you wanted to. As much as you were dying to get all of him in your mouth, for your own safety and wellbeing,  you opted to use your hand to continue to apply some relief to what you couldn’t quite reach with your mouth.

“Oh, shit. That’s so good, baby.” You weren’t sure if he was just in the moment, but your heart fluttered a bit at the pet name.

You hollowed your cheeks as you struggled to take more of him into your mouth. You gagged a handful of times, but Jungkook didn’t seem to mind. He even pulled all of your hair into his hands, using it as a sort of makeshift leash as he pushed you further down onto his cock, wanting to hear you gag on him again.

You worked quickly with your mouth, alternating the flicks of your wrists with your hand to keep Jungkook guessing. He had pressed his weight fully against the wall behind him, his leg twitching occasionally whenever you ‘accidentally’ dragged your teeth along the underside of his dick, not enough to cause any real harm, just enough to ignite a spark.

“Oh my God…” He whimpered.

You did yourself the favor of looking up at him while your mouth was stuffed full, your pussy spasming at the sight. His mouth was hung open in a silent moan, his eyes were screwed shut in pleasure, and a few of his sweaty black locks were stuck to his forehead. You figured you could make him cum just like this, but you’d rather be his personal cumbucket. Was it a bit selfish? Maybe, but you couldn’t care less at the moment. He looked absolutely delectable above you.

He cracked his eyes open just as you slid his cock out of your mouth, gathering up the saliva that built up while your lips were stretched around him and spitting it back out onto his manhood. You were deliberately slow with this, wanting him to feel it the moment it made contact with his head. You watched his face as your saliva spilled down onto his shaft, using this as lubrication as you continued to pump your fist against him.

You sank down further onto your knees, only able to give his balls a few licks with your tongue, and a short lived massage before you were yanked backward, head first. Your immediate reaction to this was a rough squeeze to his cock, since it was the only thing in your grasp at the moment. You let out a strangled groan as he clenched his jaw while looking down at you, cock standing at attention as he debated his next movement.

“Get the fuck up.” He commanded you, although he pulled you up off of the ground by the grip he had on your hair on his own.

He pressed your back to his chest, ensuring you felt every ripple of his muscles pressed against your naked skin. Making a path with his hand from your stomach, in between your breasts, then finally to your neck,  he held you firmly against him, so you had no space between your flushed bodies. You felt every rise and fall of his toned chest, his breathing just as ragged as yours.

“I’m going to bend you over that desk there, alright?” He whispered into your ear, his cool breath fanning over your cheek as you nodded eagerly, just wanting him to follow through with his plan instead of telling you the process. After all, actions do speak louder than words.

“When I let you go, I want you to walk over there like a good little slut and bend over. Flip that skirt up and show me your cunt. Can you do that for me?” You felt his cock twitch against your inner thigh, and you nodded again with a quiet moan.

“Go.” He let you go with one word, watching you swiftly walk over toward the desk as he took his length in his right hand and stroked it quickly while approaching you with loud, threatening footsteps.

You weren’t sure how that was possible since he didn’t have shoes on, but it only excited you further. You complied with his orders easily, pressing your cheek against the cold surface of the desk. You  hiked the skirt up a bit around your waist and wiggled your ass teasingly as you waited for him to come ravage you.

“You’re cute, but you’re so annoying.” He grunted from behind you, slapping both of your ass cheeks with his heavy hands, massaging them afterward before delivering two more harsh slaps.

“You work me up in front of a room full of people, and then try to collect your stuff afterward as if you weren’t practically begging me to use you? Bullshit.” He spanked your ass again, relishing in the way you hissed after every hit and gripped the edge of the desk tighter.

“I’m going to make a mess out of you, you know that?” He pressed his chest against your back, pushing his weight onto you as he whispered into your ear.

You nodded, his eyes scanning over the expanse of your back as his long fingers momentarily kneaded your muscles.

“What’re you waiting for, then?” You quipped, although your voice sounded a bit flat because of Jungkook’s body weight. He laughed as he pulled himself up off of you.

Silently, he grabbed his cock and lined it up with your pussy as he pressed the head against your tight hole. You moaned at this, inhaling sharply as he just barely slipped himself inside of you. You whimpered in defeat as he pulled out quickly afterward, not wanting to give you the time to savor the feeling of being stretched out by his length.

“I swear, if you wait any longer then I’m going to fuck myself on your dick.” You threatened shakily, to which he smirked at.

“Is that so?” He let go of his cock. “Be my guest, then.” He shrugged, although you couldn’t see him.

You turned around swiftly, beyond irritated at whatever game he was trying to play. You were turned on, and you wanted to be fucked silly, but he was acting like a brat.

“You know what? Fine, I will.” You challenged, looking over your shoulder at him to see the intrigued smile on his face.

You rolled your eyes, roughly grabbing his cock and pushing yourself back onto him hastily. Jungkook disapproved of this, landing a sharp slap to your right ass cheek he gripped your hips roughly. He held you securely, preventing you from sliding back any further onto his cock.

“You’d better slow down, sweetheart.” He warned shakily, his nails leaving small imprints on your skin as he moved his hands down to your ass. “I haven’t cum yet, and your little hole is so inviting.”

You gulped, although something about his threat to cum inside of you was one step closer to pushing you over the edge.

“Take it slowly. Take me in slowly, so I can feel you.” With this he let go of your ass, watching with lidded eyes as your arousal coated more than half of his manhood.

He licked his lips at this, loving the way your juices spilled onto him, and onto the desk. Perhaps he’d make you lick his cock clean afterwards. That’d be a sight to see.

Your hips stuttered before you could take the last few inches, which sent a gigantic boost to Jungkook’s ego. Of course, he knew he was big, but something about seeing you struggle to take him in fully even after you talked all of that shit previously was egging him on.

“You at your limit, baby?” He mocked you, and as soon as you tried to respond, your voice cracked.

He hummed, chuckling slightly as he slid his hands up from your ass to your back, scratching his stubby nails at your flesh before threading his fingers in your hair once more. He roughly yanked your head back with a malicious smile. Your body jolted at this, which sent the rest of his cock plunging into you in one go.

“God, that’s fucking it. Look at you, swallowing Daddy’s dick like a good girl. You look so pretty stuffed full like this.” You were incomprehensive, your entire being filled with thoughts of Jungkook pummeling your pussy out of existence.

“Not so eager to use that fucking mouth now, are you? Hm?” He asked, pulling your head back a bit further.

Your back was so arched that you could see the ceiling and a bit of his face, and this new position made it so much easier for his cock to brush against that spot that made you a mumbling mess.

“You should be ashamed, really.” He said, dropping his head down to look at your ass as he slowly began to work his hips against it. “Have you got anything to say for yourself?” You were taking him so well, but he couldn’t let his unbothered persona falter just yet.

“Well?” He let go of your hair, and you immediately dropped your head forward, your eyebrows furrowed in pleasure as you struggled to hold yourself up on your elbows while he ruthlessly fucked you.

“You’re s-so fucking big.” You mumbled pathetically, causing Jungkook to twitch inside of you.

“I know. You like Daddy’s big fat cock inside that tight little pussy.  Tell me, baby. Tell me how much you like it. Tell me how good you feel.” He pushed one of his hands down against your back, silently telling you to press your breasts against the desk. You obeyed, hissing as your nipples hardened instantly after making contact with the cool surface.

“I like—o-oh, oh shit.” Your jaw fell slack as Jungkook began to pick up the pace of his thrusts, his expert hips moving with such sharpness that you could feel it each time he pulled back a bit to fuck himself into you again. Although you didn’t do what he asked of you, he didn’t pressure you any further, his only goal to use you as his cute little cocksleeve.

“Spread your legs for me.” You immediately moved to follow his request, unable to balance yourself on your feet now. This was no problem, as Jungkook easily took a secure grip around your waist to keep you pressed against the desk.

“You feel so good around me like that, oh shit.” Jungkook whimpered, his tongue hanging out of his mouth slightly as he jabbed his fingers into your sides and pulled you onto the tips of your toes. You were startled at the sudden change, although it allowed for him to drive deeper inside of you.

“Put your hands on the edge of the desk now. Do it right fucking now.” He growled like some sort of feral animal. You scurried to follow his orders, just as he began to slam his cock so powerfully inside of your cunt that your hips banged against the metal desk with every other thrust, and you knew there would be bruises.

“F-fuck!” You screamed, and Jungkook responded quickly by throwing his hand messily over your mouth to quiet your moans.

“Shh, Y/N. We can’t let you get caught being a little slut.” He chuckled breathlessly, short moans and growls leaving the back of his throat as he continued to piston his hips in and out of you, your ass slapping against his abdomen every time the two of you connected. You were teetering over the edge, desperately wanting to lose control underneath him.

“I’m cumming, I’m gonna c—JUNGKOOK!” You yelled out in frustration as he slipped his cock out of you.

He grunted, pushing some of the clutter on the desk away before picking you up and setting you on top of it, so he could see your face.

“One,” He said, his voice raspy which caused you to shiver, “You’re not cumming unless I get to see your face when you do. Two,” He continued, slipping himself back into you with ease due to how fucking soaked you were, “You’re not cumming until you beg for it.” He reached for one of your legs and placed it over his shoulder, gripping onto it as he sustained the rapid pace of his manhood plunging into your inviting heat.

“I-I wanna cum, Daddy.” You whispered in defeat, a twinkle in Jungkook’s eyes as he was beginning to finally get you where he wanted you. You weren’t begging just yet, though, which was unfortunate for you because you wouldn’t get an orgasm, and Jungkook was going to cum inside you either way.

“You do, Princess?” He whispered back, still holding your leg while his other hand moved to the back of your head. He pressed your forehead against his, your noses bumping as Jungkook fucked you. You nodded, tears threatening to spill out of your eyes at having to hold your orgasm back.

“You aren’t begging for me, baby. Beg me to give you permission to cum on this dick.” You cried out weakly, knowing that you’d have to give in to his rules in order to achieve that sweet release. It was right in the tip of your tongue.

You placed your arms around his neck, hanging them there loosely as you gazed into his eyes, which were full of lust and carnal desire.

“Can I cum o-on your c-cock—a-ah!” You failed miserably to finish your sentence, as Jungkook began pistoning his cock inside of your cunt with such force that the desk began to screech against the ground a bit, knocking at one of the metal racks behind it.

“I’m so close to cumming, pretty girl. Talk fast.” He warned, thrusts quickly becoming unorganized. You nodded.

“Please let me cum! I-Iv’e learned my lesson, I swear I have! I’m so close Jungkook, p-please!” He grunted his approval, nodding once and delivering about a dozen more thrusts before he dropped his head into the crook of your neck, biting down on the skin there as he began to shoot rope after rope of his cum deep inside of your greedy cunt.

You came with him, your body tensing up for a few moments before your release smacked you like a bus, heavy and unapologetic.  Due to the wild fuckfest the two of you had, though, a few utensils hit the ground, and a can of paint was wobbling on the edge of the rack that the desk was smashing against a few seconds ago.  Jungkook finally lifted his head up, leaving a trail of kisses in his wake. He placed one final kiss to your forehead before locking eye contact with you.

“I know for a fact that was the best fuck of your life.” You laughed, shaking your head at the fact that his cocky attitude would never settle. Not even after using up (what you assumed was) all of his stamina.

You didn’t mind it, though. In fact, you were starting to grow fond of it.

“It certainly was, but look at all the—“

The can of paint gave way to the pull of gravity, and tumbled to the ground with a deafening crack, the contents of the can flying out and splattering directly onto you and Jungkook. You knew what it was as soon as it hit your skin, and you immediately wondered why someone would leave a damn can of open paint on the top shelf.

It was brief, a big splash, so neither of you really had time to react to it. When you finally lifted your head up, Jungkook’s chest was covered in black paint, as were your legs and skirt. Seriously, the one fucking day you decide to wear pink?

“—Mess. Look at all the mess.” You finished your sentence with a giggle, thankful that you kept towels in the room during your classes. It’d never come out of your skirt, but at least you could wipe it off of your skin.

Your gaze met Jungkooks and you both burst out in a fit of giggles. You couldn’t help but notice the way his eyes lit up when he laughed, the polar opposite of the domineering man who’d just rocked your world minutes before. This Jungkook was soft, open, lighter. His laughter was the most beautiful melody that had ever graced your ears and you wouldn’t have minded listening to it for a very long time. His joy was contagious, and you couldn’t stop the goofy smile from spreading across your lips as he wrapped his arms around you in a playful hug.

Though his touch still sent electricity through you, this was different. It was sweet and gentle. You let yourself melt in his embrace, drinking in the way he made you feel so secure, so wanted. You sighed happily. You grinned mischievously then, collecting some of the paint off of the surface of the desk and wiping a thick stripe of it across his cheek. He froze in shock then glared at you, a hint of a smile playing on those gorgeous lips.

He reached out to grab you, but you were too fast, shrieking in delight as you ran away from him. Jungkook chased you around the small art studio, his laughter floating through the air like your favorite song. His arms snaked around you and he pulled you close, rubbing his cheek against yours to spread the paint over your skin. Your giggles dissolved as he placed a tender kiss to your lips.

Pulling away and placing a peck on his nose, you began pulling your clothes back on. Jungkook watched you, admiring the way your body moved, how much sweeter you were once your attitude had been properly taken care of. You smiled at him over your shoulder, and he couldn’t recall a time when he’d ever seen such a beautiful smile on any other woman. He couldn’t recall seeing another woman who even compared to you.

Then realization brought a similar smile onto his own lips, and Jungkook thought to himself, that he just might have found the one.

[kermitbread]

help

was this unnecessary? yes. am I going insane? probably. pls send hananene I'm dying

How did it get to this? Nene asked the same question over and over in her mind, as she sat still on unknown territory. It had water on the ground, so she could still identify it as a boundary.

It was a dark, rather dim looking boundary. Human bones were scattered around the ground, like someone deliberately piled them in one place and kept them there. And to make matters worse...

"Ah! It's Amane's assistant!"

The dreaded little brother of the Honorable No. 7 was also stuck with her.

How did it happen? She had no idea. All she remembered was she was with Hanako, trying to get rid of a rampaging apparition, then blacking out.

Shuddering at the sight of Tsukasa, it didn't really help that she was also sitting on human skeletons. Look, everything on the fear meter was cranked up to a maximum whenever he was there. The complete opposite of how she felt when Hanako was around.

Unfortunately, he shared the same face as his brother, so it surely did not make anything much better for poor Nene.

Well, it was better than being alone in a creepy boundary, at least.

"H-how did we get here?" She tried to speak to the boy, hoping he would settle for some civil conversation. Tsukasa tilted his head at her for a second, scratching his cheek.

"Hmm... dunno!" He cheerfully replied, with a big smile to top that. Nene sighed. She expected that answer sooner or later, especially from him.

She stood up, but a sudden pain forced her to sit back down quickly. She felt the pain sear on her right ankle. For some reason, she had sprained it, not too badly, but it hurt enough to make her back down.

Guess fear made her forget a lot of things.

"Geez... how are we supposed to get out of here?" Squinting her eyes, she tried to get any glimpse of a way out to the boundary, but all she got was a sea of darkness and more bones.

Honestly speaking, her leg hurt, everything was scary, and there was no sign of escape.

Everything's gonna be fine! Hanako-kun will come! He always does! It's just about a matter of time before he arrives!

Kept in her thoughts, she didn't notice Tsukasa making his way next to her, squatting down with his hands on his knees, eyes boring directly at her.

Nene flinched when his palm went to her cheek, and to her utter shock, his touch was surprisingly gentle. If it weren't for the intimidating stare he was giving her right now, it would have felt like it was Hanako and not Tsukasa.

"W... What is it?" Her voice was a little shaky.

"You're crying." Was his simple answer. She touched her other cheek, feeling the wetness travel down her skin.

Since when did she start crying?

"So...?" Nene struggled to form words, but it was rather hard when Tsukasa was invading her space by leaning even closer to her.

"That guy told me I'm supposed to be nice to girls. So," He put on that smile, moving his hand up to her head and pat her. "Everything will be okay! Yeah!"

She blinked owlishly, mouth parted open at his actions. It reminded her of their encounter back in the Mirror Hell, except it ended up with Tsukasa making her faint, which she rather not let it happen again.

If only he didn't look like Hanako-kun! I'm somehow scared of him, but at the same time I'm not! What's going on with you, Nene?!

A rumbling noise made her jump, and the ground beneath her began to shake. The bones rattled against the water, as the rumbling was replaced with loud stomping coming closer, accompanied by a ringing noise that was irritating to the ear.

To her horror, a gigantic skeleton appeared from the shadows, on a rampage. Its bony hands crushed the skulls underneath, roaring at an extreme volume.

While Nene stared on with fear, Tsukasa seemed... oddly delighted at the sight. Well, when was he not happy?

"Uwaah! It's an odokuro! I've always wanted to see one!"

"Y-you know what this is, Tsukasa-kun?" She trembled, looking back at the boy.

"Yeah! I heard they're indestructible. They take humans and gobble their heads up! Pretty cool, right?"

Not cool. Not cool at all. Nope.

The odokuro swiped a long arm around the boundary, as Nene squinted her eyes shut, preparing for impact. Not until she felt her body being lifted up from the mass of bones and suddenly—

"Hey, hey!" Tsukasa spoke next to her, and she opened her eyes, almost letting out a gasp. They were in the air, a few meters away from the giant skeleton, and he was carrying her princess style.

And if Nene was being honest, the heights they were on right now... didn't really help. Those sharp rib bones stuck out on the ground like spikes on a floor. A fall from that height would mean instant peril.

"Wait a moment! I might fall!" She unknowingly clung closer to him, not even noticing his eyes go wide at that. His attention, however, went back to the odokuro, who was scouring through the bones looking for them.

He smiled darkly.

"Oi, odokuro!" He waved a hand at the skeleton, getting its attention. "I got a tasty human for you! Come and get it!"

"Tsukasa-kun!" Nene screamed, and Tsukasa merely laughed at her face of pure terror. The skeleton screeched and started to make its way to them, the ground shaking at it's every step.

"I'm just kidding!" Sending out his kokujoudai, he lifted an arm forward, right in front of the odokuro. "Besides, I don't think Amane would like his assistant dead just yet!"

Nene didn't even have the chance to blink. The black will-o-wisps went in a flash, and in an instant, the skeleton shattered, destroying it completely.

She turned her head at Tsukasa, who was just staring ahead, not meeting her in the eye. The extent of his power never ceased to frighten her. Well, it was to be expected, he did manage to defeat a School Mystery IN their boundary back then.

But it bothered how he didn't hesitate to save her from the skeleton. Probably because of his attachment to Hanako, but Nene knew there was probably something more to that. Doing a favor for him? Or was he the one asking for a favor? Was she overthinking right now?

"Aww, it broke so easily! What a bummer." He sounded pouty, like a child who had broken their favorite toy. Descending down back on the ground, he poked at the remains of the odokuro with his kokujoudai, as if he was expecting for it to move.

"Oh well! Another one will come around soon!"

"Another one?! Not another one!" It was too much. She hid her face on his chest, not wanting to have to look at yet another giant skeleton approaching. She didn't care if this was Tsukasa, she was NOT having any of it!

"Hanako-kun, where are you..." She mumbled timidly, the tears starting to build up again. This whole situation was a mess. One, big, ridiculous mess. And on top of that, her leg still hurt like shit.

Tsukasa blinked, not expecting this sort of thing to happen. Here he was, standing, carrying that radish-legged assistant of his twin brother, who was currently crying onto his shirt. Oh, and did he mention she smelled good? Like, REALLY good?

(a/n: smh tsukasa always getting sidetracked with things he has a low attention span)

He promptly plopped himself in a sitting position, having Nene practically on his lap. She was too busy bawling her eyes out to notice, though, but she did flinch when he put his fingers under her chin, tilting her head to him, forcing her to meet him in the eye.

Teary-eyed, cheeks red. In his opinion, it was a good look for her.

"You're such a crybaby. Amane's assistant is such a crybaby." He commented like it was the funniest thing in the world. Nene mustered up a glare, forgetting that he could probably snap her neck in seconds.

"I have a name, you know."

Tsukasa looked up at the air, pretending to think, before turning back to her with a proud smile. "Can I call you radish legs then?"

"No!"

"Fish girl?"

"Absolutely not!"

"Then..." His eyes narrowed, and he almost looked like a predator out for the kill. "Nene?"

"...Eh?" She couldn't say another word at that. First name basis already? They weren't exactly friends, though.

"Amane calls you Yashiro, so I get to call you Nene!"

"Uh... s-sure." Nene just went along with it. Who knows what kind of crazy stuff would happen if she refused one more time.

"Ouch!" A yelp escaped her mouth when she accidentally moved her right ankle across the ground, as it began to react strongly with pain. Tsukasa observed her whimpering for a few moments, before reaching out and holding her by the shoulders.

"Eh—what are you—"

"Giving you a present." He smirked, leaning forward and she felt his lips press against her cheek.

Her eyes went wide, her heart began to pound fast. What was he doing?! What was he doing—

He lingered there about a few more seconds before pulling away, looking quite proud at himself. "Nene's very clumsy! I gave you a protection charm because rescuing you again would be too much work."

Nene put her hand on the cheek he had apparently cast a spell on, staring at him. For a moment, it was like Hanako had been there with her.

Maybe Tsukasa wasn't so bad if he just tried to? Emphasis on "tried".

Footsteps crunching on the bones approached them, as finally, Hanako and Kou had arrived. "Yashiro!"

"Hanako-kun!" She called out, wanting to stand, but Tsukasa's hold on her was really tightening for some reason. He didn't say much as a word, just watching as his brother and the young exorcist came closer.

"Tsukasa! Let her go!" Hanako readied his knife as Kou put himself in a fighting stance. Nene looked at Tsukasa, and he shrugged.

"I was just having fun with Nene! Can't I borrow her for a little more, Amane?"

"What?!" Both her and Hanako simultaneously shouted. Tsukasa chuckled, and as if to tease them, he let his fingers through her hair, leaning down close to her, cheek to cheek.

"She smells really good, Amane. And she's really warm. So that's why you cling to her a lot. I kinda like it!" He nuzzled his cheek against hers, ignoring her stuttering protests.

"Leave her alone, you bastard!" Kou shouted, gripping on his staff tightly as it began to spark with lightning. Tsukasa pulled away from the poor girl and pouted childishly.

"Aww man. Well... okay. Only because Amane's probably gonna cry soon. I would have wanted to see that, but..." He got up from the boundary floor, calmly walking up to Hanako, and just putting her into his arms like putting a sack away.

Nene automatically clung to Hanako as he unknowingly sighed with relief. Overall, he just couldn't stand being apart for this long.

"It was fun playing with you, Nene! I'll be seeing you real soon!" Snapping his fingers, Tsukasa vanished along with his kokujoudai, leaving a trail of black smoke behind.

"We should get out of here, too. Let's go, kid."

--

"Hey, Yashiro." Hanako asked. He and Nene were in the school's infirmary, while Kou went to fetch the school nurse. Nene sat on the bed, trying not to move her hurting leg too much.

"Yeah?"

"What did... what did Tsukasa do? Did he hurt you?" He seemed to be really worried and scared, as she could now see through his tone. Putting a hand on top of his, she smiled at him.

"He didn't hurt me, Hanako-kun. He was surprisingly... nice. He saved me from that giant skeleton that appeared before you came."

"Oh." Was all he could say. Inwardly, he was a little jealous his little brother was the one who rescued her this time. And calling her by her first name?! Very unfair!

"Ah, and he... also... uh..." Nene shyly averted her eyes from him, as Hanako looked at her with curiosity. "He also gave me a protection charm, just like the one you gave me before."

He blinked. Protection charm. Protection charm. Protection char—

Wait.

Squinting his eyes, he noticed the faint outline of something on her skin, and he probably was now going to lose it very soon.

There, written in black, was the number seven. Tsukasa's own spell.

Hanako felt like a heavy anvil dropped on his head and crushed him.

And as if it weren't already worse enough, Tsukasa suddenly appeared out of nowhere, immediately tackling Nene from behind with a hug. "Nene!!"

"T-Tsukasa-kun?!"

"Did you like my present, Amane? Looks great, right?" He cheekily smirked at Hanako, who was now in the middle of snapping.

"WHY IN THE WORLD WOULD YOU DO THAT?!" Hanako yelled angrily, as his twin laughed.

"Just because!"

"AND WHY WOULD YOU CALL HER BY HER FIRST NAME?!!"

"Only cuz you wouldn't! Right, Nene?" Tsukasa poked Nene on the cheek.

Nene tiredly sighed. It was too stressful to deal with this right now.

Things were going to get weird now, and she didn't know whether to laugh or cry at that.

[bandagegirl]

Tell me about your ghs ocs! The Judgment Boys already look cool

This will be answered in multiple posts due to how many characters there are. I'm on mobile, so I have no idea how to make read mores, sorry. Let's start with

The Judgement Factory

The Judgement Factory (will be referred to as the Factory) seen in GHS is only a small branch of the much larger Factory. Smaller sub-factories manifest in many places in many dimensions (or Zones following the Awful Hospital terms we accidently started incorporating) and perform one or two duties of Judgement Boy (JB) manufacturing.

JB Gold's factory for example specializes in the production of the glass hearts and gold nuggets and the training of JBs. The main Factory is its own Zone, having manifested itself through the Original Judgement Boy (OG JB) wanting to spread his judgement everywhere and as a reminder of a court case where he defended the owner of a factory in which many people came to harm and even died.

In the Factory, many types of JBs are created, from windup toy like Judgelings to JBs performing a huge range of task, some made for the well known judgements, others made to work in the Factory, be it transportation, assembly or scrapping of JBs to even higher ranking overseer JBs, the Metal and the Rare series.

The Factory, being it's own Zone, is practically infinite. "Easy" to enter, very easy to get lost in, very difficult to leave if you can't retrace your way. While most JBs use ceiling/upper rails, there are plenty of JBs that use ground/lower rails. Many Judgelings and a few Rare Series JBs don't require rails to traverse the Factory, either due to wheels, legs or the ability to fly/levitate.

Some areas are "invisible" to nearly all JBs (similarly to the Safe Room in FNAF). Two JBs are able to see and traverse these areas, being JB SMELL and JB Cobalt. Inside these "out of bounce" areas live and hide away JBs that range from proof of concepts to unfinished WIPs to JBs that escaped being scrapped due to being labeled "defective". One notable room here is the office of OG JB (which also houses the only still functioning bathroom).

The Judge

Deep inside the Factory, inside one of the biggest rooms, resides the Judge, a dual hammer wielding, gigantic, up to 40 meter tall JB (including his 300 tons on weight). He was supposed to be a JB Oni, closer to normal JB size and part of a yokai themed Rare series, but due to a mistake onle he was created and roughly 12 times the intended size.

Judge took OG JB's place as the Boss and Overseer of the entire Factory after devouring OG JB, which also made him the heart and core of the Factory. One of his first orders was to get rid of every evidence of OG JB, including ever JB created before Judge, the only exceptions being JB SMELL and JB Marionette. If Judge were to die without a replacement, the entire Factory, each sub-factory and everyone inside would cease to exist.

Personality: Very threatening towards both JBs and non-JBs. Even many Metals and Rares find themselves scared of him. No volume control and obnoxious. Very loving husband of JB Marionette. Reckless, conceited and prideful. ADHD king. Hot headed. Fiery personality. Luckily a big belly laugher and not a desk hitting laugher.

Abilities: EXTREMELY DEEP VOICE, both talking and singing (you know those gigantic drums used in parades that make your chest hurt when pounded? That's the closest I have to a voice for him). Remember how JB Gold wrecked his room when he judged Second Guest? Judge's judgement is even more destructive, making more than just his room shake, JBs and factory parts falling down everywhere. His two hammers, which he can switch out for simple hands, have both a heart on one side and a dollar sign on the other side, an allusion towards him symbolising "No Choice". The hammers heat up while spinning, leaving either ❤/❤, $/$ or both symbols as burned imprints on the floor, Double hearts being the rarest judgement.

Judge's stomach is a massive oven, allowing both smoke and fire to come out of his mouth if needed or enraged. If challenged to a fight, he can stack up additional 100 ton weights on top of his 200 ton weight. His glasses flash purple and pink during strong emotions, when controlling nearby JBs and when looking through a singular JB's eyes to check on their behavior. Due to his massive size, he is unable to traverse the Factory without being carried by JB Marionette but can transform into a smaller, more humanoid form when outside the Factory. His humanoid form has a lot of tattoos, the most important ones being a big back tattoo of his husband JB Marionette and chains and shackles that go from his neck to both his arms that he is able to transform into his hammers.

(Left two artworks belong to co-creator of the Extended Factory, @thermodynamiclawyer )

[theotheroccassionalfanficwriter]

The Antichrist Is a Perfectly Nice Human

Summary: Satan took one look at the human that was supposedly his spawn, the Adversary, Destroyer of Kings, Angel of the Bottomless Pit, Great Beast that is called Dragon, Prince of This World, Father of Lies, and Lord of Darkness and decided that you were an alright human.

Alternatively, the former Avatar of Wrath decided to screw over his successor by claiming to be him while up and about in the human world. Got a female human pregnant and had you, the Antichrist*, that had the Celestial Realm and Devildom panicking for an apocalypse that was scheduled way too early.

*not really but you were raised to be one

Tags: Good Omens AU, Sorta but not really, Comedy, Romance, Misunderstanding, Your Life is One Whole Gigantic Prank, First Love Mammon, End game Satan, non-binary reader because you get all the genders.

A/N: Sometimes I gotta write the content I want other people to write so I can read it ;w; 

Chapters: 1/3

[Chapter 1: The Beginning of a Joke]

-

0. The Fool in Reverse

The Earth as a Gemini was a complete and total bastard as far as most people in the know was concerned. Most people in this case, referred to God and his Heavenly Host, and the majority of Devildom’s upper echelon. You, however, had no negative nor positive opinion on Earth based on its astrological sign. Based on inhabitants however...it was best left unsaid.

The story or perhaps the start of the problem began when Ira, the Former Avatar of Wrath, was not resigned to the fact that he would have to step down easily and hand over his Throne to some upstart demon. Thus this particular crafty, bastard, and fearless former Avatar of Wrath decided to play a harmless prank* by deciding to create a Cambion and have it masquerade as the Antichrist that was not meant to be born until eons later on.

(*it was a harmless prank by both angelic and demonic standards had anyone from their logistics department was not an overworked  demon/angel and decided to launch an investigation instead of sending it directly to the higher-ups for them to decide on what to do)

Thus Ira, who was unfairly handsome, found a very willing and very enthusiastic Nun from the Holy Order of the Church of Satan in England, went and pretended to be Satan, the new Avatar of Wrath, had a very fun two month long vacation in the human world with the very willing and very enthusiastic Nun.

And thus nine months later, you were born. A perfectly healthy baby with pretty blue eyes. As Ira held you in his arms, he smiled gently and thanked the your Mother, the Nun for her contribution.

From that point on, your life became one whole prank to Heavenly Host and Devildom, however it mattered little to you who was born with a golden and diamond studded spoon on the mouth. You were, after all, much more interested on Sesame Street’s airtime.

1. The Magician

At the young and tender age of five, your Nanny Asmodeus was teaching you how to negotiate and get what you want. In the same vein, Brother Simeon, the Gardener was teaching you how to politely ask for what you want.

Both were adamant that you listen to them alone. Thus in the interest of fairness decided to do neither. And neither of them complained* when you told them of your decision and instead looked at you fondly and patted your head for a good job of being independent.

(*That was a lie, as the moment you were well asleep after Asmodeus’ nightly ritual of singing you to sleep, both had a very heated discussion in the Garden Shed with Solomon, your tutor, as a very happy spectator. It was the first time Solomon had seen Simeon quite angry)

Thus you slowly but skillfully learned how to be a leader, for the Army of Hell that you would lead as promised by Nanny Asmodeus, and learned how to make friends as Brother Simeon had said that all Great Leaders had friends they could trust. And so by the time you were 9, you were quite the charismatic child not only due to your upbringing but also the fact that you had inherited Ira’s charms.

And then you met Mammon, and all of their work went down the drain when you fell in love the first time.

2. The High Priestess in Reverse

Mammon had been curious to see what his younger brother’s supposed spawn was like. Thus he had decided to check you out and see how you were doing after being subtly influence by both realms in your formative years. Mammon had expected that you’d be a fascinating mix of cruelty and kindness, an oddity, and fairly attractive by human standards.

He had taken up the job of checking up on you as a pretense to fool around for most of the time and expected it to be an easy one.

None of his expectations were met except one; you were an oddity but you were not a fascinating mix of cruelty and kindness, and you were unfairly attractive by human standards.

Not of that mattered and paled in comparison by the fact that you had taken one look at him, professed your love, and invited him to your home. Thus he found himself living with you, in your large empty estate that only had your family servants and pets as your company.

“Mammon~ Do you want to go shopping in Dubai? Tokyo? or Las Vegas?” You asked him sweetly as you wrapped your arms on his biceps and pressed your chest on his arm*.

(*This was the result of all the years you've seen your Nanny Asmodeus jump Brother Simeon at all times of the day and how your Nanny Asmodeus would talk to Sir Solomon about your learning pace)

“Dubai!!” He quickly answered as he tried to gently pry you off him all the while battling with the heavy and scornful glares of your servants.

‘I’m innocent!’ He cried inside his mind and willed Lucifer to hear his desperate cries for relief.

His efforts were in vain. Lucifer did not hear his cries and neither was he able to pry you off. All he could do was mouth “Help!!!” to your servants as you stuck closer to him. 

He cursed Asmodeus in his mind and swore to screw him over for his current predicament.

The servants happily did as he requested and even helped him get out of the place to ran back to his onii-sama and cry about what happened.*

(*Lucifer pretended that he wasn't despairing for his little brothers' stupidity but ever since the Antichrist appeared, it was getting harder to do so. He tried to look at the bright side that Mammon no longer caused more debts and ignored Mammon's cries of not being a cradle robber.)

Your first love was quick to blossom and quick to wilt. But your heart never forgot Mammon and you ended up dating a few guys like him before throwing them away after one week.

3. The Empress in Reverse

You had, from the moment you formed your first observation, understood that your Mother was not your Mother in the sense that most people had a Mother. She was just someone who gave birth to you, occasionally asked about your day and made small painful talk.

Nanny Asmodeus had been more of a Mother to you than her, and you had taken to emulate most of Nanny Asmodeus' habits* up until Nanny was fired after getting caught with Brother Simeon and Sir Solomon.

You had not understood why they were fired because you had instictively, like all children with an environment as messy as yours beneath the surface, understood that the three were more of a parental figure than the ones that gave birth to you.

Nanny Asmodeus was your Mom.

Brother Simeon and Sir Solomon were your Dads.

And you had told your Mother so, in a strange mix of your parents teachings, in the blunt and honest negotiation for them to stay. And you were confident, and stupidly brave for a child because no one had ever denied you of what you truly wanted because you were the Young Master and you negotiated well.

That had been the first and only time you failed a negotiation. It had also been the first and only time that you cried and begged, totally unbefitting for a Prince of Hell but you had loved the three of them in whatever a way a child groomed to be the antichrist could. It had been useless and you had moved on quickly.*

(*That was well crafted act. You had shed all pretense with your Mother and stopped bothering with her. The same went for the Man that claimed to be your Dad. You had carried and nursed a grudge and swore that when your Army from Hell arrived they would be the first one example of your might.)

It had been hard, at first, to adjust living in a house devoid of them three. You had grown used to the fact that all three of them had welcomed you at all times. That Nanny Asmodeus would teach you how to care for your hair and doll you up however you want, that Sir Solomon would not mind your endless questions and let you read whatever books that caught your fancy and let you dabble in magic, that Brother Simeon didn't mind you getting dirty and running around with stray animals that visited the gardens.

But you learned how to live with it. And somewhere between them leaving, your first heart break, and managing your publishing company, you had made your peace with the fact that you had no warm home.

4. The Emperor

Diavolo didn't know what to do with the knowledge that he had accidentally brought the Antichrist to Devildom via his Exchange Student Program. Or the fact that you had just met your absentee father Satan. Or the fact that you had immediately demanded your Army after learning that this was Hell.

He wanted to go down to the Castle's basement and duel his old man. He just knew that this was just that bastard father of his plan to make his way to the throne harder.

"Hey! Don't ignore me the Adversary, Destroyer of Kings, Angel of the Bottomless Pit, Great Beast that is called Dragon, Prince of This World, Father of Lies,Spawn of Satan and Lord of Darkness!" You angrily demanded.

On the side he saw Beelzebub choked on his food, Asmodeus sweating nervously, and Lucifer glare. But Satan's expression was the most interesting as the Avatar had paled greatly and looked pained. Diavolo smiled and said,

"Your army still isn't prepared so why don't you study here for a while?"

"Hah? I'm already making money! Instead of studying why don't you just let me run a business?"

Diavolo took a look at Asmodeus and wondered whose influence was this*.

(*It was Solomon's and Mammon's but no one made that connection and chalked it up to spoiled upbringing.)

Diavolo knew when to retreat so he granted you your request and found yourself investing in a fashion magazine and secretly playing around with Devildom's stock market with Mammon by your side who had forgotten all past trauma* with your generous spending on him.

(*When you were back on your room and sleeping he had ran to Lucifer and cried about all the scornful accusations of laying his hand on his own niece. Lucifer compensated him with Goldie and decided to break out his 1600 Demonus Bottle)

You happily dreamed about Mammon and ignored the demon that had the same name as your absentee Father.

5. The Hierophant in Reverse

Ira had always known that he was not the best father considering that he was absent on your daily life and the fact that he made you because of a long prank he was playing on his successor. It hadn’t fazed him at all that you grew colder and more distant towards him and your birth mother after Asmodeus, Solomon, and that angel Simeon had to be fired.

He understood that part of you very well since you had inherited that from him. You had somehow managed to inherit all of his strengths and he was proud of that. Though he did wish you hadn't inherited your birth mother's tendency to love deeply. Love had no place in a demon's heart after all.

And he had told this to you once, long ago when your eyes had shined bright with all the youthful innocence human children had. And like true child of his, you had ignored him.

He had let you off that time.

Not this time though. You, for some Goddamned in explicable reason, were in Devildom. Hanging out with the still wet behind his ears Avatar of Greed, and the pathetic excuse for an Avatar of Gluttony. He could feel his wrath bubbling up at the way you were doting upon the two.

He had angrily left and decided to visit his Demon King. 

He didn’t like the way you were looking at that scum Mammon*.On the other side of the street, inside Cat’s Eye Cafe, was Satan who had seen all of this and knew that something was amiss with this whole Antichrist business and his supposed child that he never remembered fathering.

(* Ira, by demonic virtue, loathed all the New Generation of the Avatars by virtue of being associated with that upstart son of his King. Mammon getting the attention of his child however brought him to all new emotional plateau in the levels of Wrath and he did not like it one bit.)

6. The Lovers, and then in Reverse

You had found it fascinating, how the demon who shared the same name as your absentee father, looked pained whenever you talked to him. It was really amusing seeing him hold back in maiming you for yanking his metaphorical tail whenever opportunity struck. Lucifer had found it amusing and you had taken it as non-verbal agreement to carry on*.

(*Lucifer was amused by your stupidity of provoking Satan with his apparent slip-up. Not at the fact that Satan always had a pained looked at his face when talking to you.)

And then you saw him playing with cats, and you decided that he was someone you wanted to be friends with. You had told Nanny Asmodeus as much and he had replied,

“Oh Darling~, Are you sure?” 

And even if you knew that there was something off with his question, you had knew what you wanted,

“Yep.”

And your Nanny Asmodeus had promised to help you out in your grand quest of befriending Satan.*

(*The moment you went to sleep, he made his way to Purgatory Hall, magicked bottles of Demonus and fucking drank with the other two as he cried about how you were too kind to give his shit brother another chance, and then cried about how fast his baby had grown, and then proceeded to attempt fighting Satan while crying and shit faced drunk.)

Meanwhile, The Demon King in the Basement, was having the time of his life as he watched the gathering of his Avatars all of which were acting like Quetzalcoatl that lost their heads over the Antichrist for entirely different reasons. He glanced at Lucrum, his Avatar of Greed, who was ranting about how the Antichrist was playing around with Devildom’s stock market and economy and teaching what he failed to get Mammon to understand.

He smiled and turned an amused brow at Ira wondering how he was handling the mess he had made. He knew that as the Devil King, he could easily put a stop at this mess but seeing how even the Bastard Upstairs was running around like a headless Quetzalcoatl he decided not to. This would be a good learning lesson for everyone after all. Even if the prank would end in failure sooner or later.

7. The Chariot

Somehow without you noticing it, you had formed pacts with 4 demons. All of which were your Father’s colleague and your uncles. Which threw you off when you realize your pursuit of Mammon and cried at the unfairness of it all,

“Why are my Uncles so handsome and yet my Dad is like that!”

You ended up doing an informed* runaway and had a sleep over in Purgatory Hall with your Brother Simeon and Solomon, who was now your friend and mentor in all things.

(*You had politely asked Lucifer for permission to runaway, which threw him off his rhythm and made him agree, and once telling this to Brother Simeon, Solomon had laughed and cried about how good Simeon’s influence was in curbing demonic influences.)

Which somehow made its way back to your Shitty Bastard Father, Satan, who was standing in front of you, hair a pretentiously messed up, and clothes also pretentiously disheveled.

“Oh? You decided to talk to me?” You challenged, fueled by the fact that Solomon, Nanny Asmo, and Brother Simeon was behind you.

“Can’t Daddy, check on his precious child?”

“Get lost, Satan.”

And from behind you, Asmodeus mouthed, “What?!?”

Because he was quite sure that the one who stood in the door way was not his brother Satan the Avatar of Wrath, but Ira, the dethroned Avatar of Wrath.

|| Next

[hopingforromanoff]

Embracing the Silence (Third Part to Radio Silence)(Natasha Romanoff)

*The GIF is not mine, I found it on Google. If it is your’s and you would like me to take it down just let me know :)*

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Words: 2,252

Warning: Panic attacks and I think that it.

Requests are open, so feel free to send in requests and I will do my best to get them posted ASAP. 

A/N: Hey guys!! This is the third and final part of the Radio Silence series. I can’t thank you guys enough for all the love and support I have received on this story! This was only ever supposed to be a one part story so I can thank you guys for what it has become. Anyway, I’ll stop rambling. I hope you enjoy!

My Masterlist

Part One Part Two

_____________________________________

A loud buzz rang out through the crowded factory, signaling the end of your shift. The halls filled the chatter of workers eager to return home to their families. You slowed your pace, allowing them to pass you. You weren’t in a rush to go home, nothing there was waiting for you, nothing but an empty apartment. 

You slipped into the bathroom as you passed it. The bright fluorescent lights doing nothing for  bags under your eyes. You were a shell of your former self and your eyes lacked the sparkle that was once found in them. Your eyes caught movement in the mirror, your coworker coming into view as she left the stall behind you. She made small talk with you, asking what your plans were for the weekend. She mentioned taking her two children into the city, a treat for their father bailing on them again. Her cropped red hair bounced as she spoke. She reminded you of Natasha in certain ways, but with so much more innocence. Tears started to prickle in your eyes, you missed her but this was for the best. 

“Have a good weekend, Cas, I’ll see you on Monday�� she smiled as she left. In the last five months you had never gotten used to that name. You doubted you ever would, that wasn’t your name and this wasn’t your home.

 It wasn’t until after midnight that you left the factory. Your feet had began to ache in hour four of your twelve hour shift, and by now they were throbbing with every step you took. Your clothing soaked the moment you stepped outside, nothing stopping the cold air from seeping into your bones. Water splashed up onto your ankles as your cheap sneaker found every puddle along the way. Rain poured down on the street as a heavy fog settled on the town, each building wrapped in its embrace. 

A lone car sped past you, it’s headlights briefly lighting up the cracked sidewalk beneath your feet. The yellow New York license plate caught your eye; you couldn’t go too far from your home. The sound of footsteps echoed behind you. You were trained well enough to know they weren’t yours. Warning signs went off in your mind as you quicken your pace.  You felt a presence rapidly gaining on you. As you glanced over you caught a reflection in the dirty shop front window, a knife shining in the streetlight.  

A hand grabbed your shoulder as you reach into your pocket, your hand touching the cold metal of the pepper spray can. Your keys hitting the soaked ground with a splash. Pain spreads through your back as you hit the ground with a loud thud. Sweeping your legs, you knock your attacker to the floor beside you. You scramble for your keys and jump to your feet. Your back meets the hard red brick face of the building as a large hand wraps around your throat. 

Using your free hand you clawed at his arm that was strangling you, your other hand blindly searching for the trigger of your pepper spray. Angling your body as you could, you sprayed it directly into the attacker’s face, at the same time your foot violently met his crotch.

Your eyes burned as your wobbling legs carried you in the direction of your apartment. You had reached the corner when a voice sounded behind you “You can run as much as you want Y/N, but we will always find you”. You instantly froze, no one here knew your real name. This wasn’t just a spontaneous act, it was a planned attack and Hydra knew where you were. 

You threw the door to your apartment building open with haste. You waited a second for the elevator before deciding that it would take too long. You bound up the four flights of stairs two steps at a time. Upon reaching your hall, you could the sound of your neighbor fighting with her boyfriend, this happened nearly every night. With shaky hands, you slide the key into the door and pushed it open. 

You slid down the wall beside your tiny single bed. Your ears began to ring as your fingers ran over the rough, stained brown carpet, your chest tightening. “Now is NOT the time for a panic attack” you whispered to yourself. You had to get out of here before they found you again. 

You took a few deep breaths before pushing yourself off the floor. Returning the entrance of your home, you pulled a bag out from the cramped closet, dumping it on the dilapidated sofa. White fluff poked out from the ripped green material. Digging deeper you pulled out a box and upon opening it, the screen of your phone reflected the image of you. A bruise forming around your neck and your cheeks streaked with mascara. The phone stirred memories from within you, you hadn’t seen it in months. Not since you left, not when Tony could so easily track you with it. Throwing the phone into the bag, you began to rapidly fill it with as much as you could. The zipper caught as you tried to close the bulging bag. You jumped as a door slammed in the hall. Forgetting the jammed zipper, you threw it over your shoulder, some it’s contents falling on the floor. 

Panic bubbled up in you again when you slammed the car door behind you. You couldn’t drive like this, but you didn’t have a choice. If you didn’t, you were too close to your attacker and he would find you vulnerable. You turned the key in the ignition, taking a slow, deep breath and pulled out of the deserted parking lot. You clutched the steering wheel and the ringing in your ears began to dissipate. Tears continued to fill your eyes as you drove, your vision even more obstructed by the pouring rain outside. 

When you were a few miles from your apartment you spotted a dark alley on the outskirts of town. No one was following you, and you were out of sight so you pulled in. Your hands found the discarded bag on the seat beside you, you dug in for your phone. Upon pulling it out, you flicked it on. When the screen lit up, it flooded with hundreds of texts, calls and voicemails. You ignored them as you hit Natasha’s name.  

After waiting a few moments, you were sent to voicemail. “Natasha, I need you” you hiccupped into the phone. “Someone’s after me, I can’t do this alone, I miss you” you cried, hanging up the phone. You tried her again and again but were met with no better luck. You tried Steve, Bucky and everyone else you could think of but found the same response. You continued to call as you pulled back on to the road. 

It was around five a.m. when you pulled into the Avenger’s facility. The place was deserted when you reached it, none of Tony’s flashy cars adored the driveway and no lights lit up the building. Steve and Bucky should have been awake for their morning run by now. The specs of sunlight began to streak the sky as you stopped the car and got out. It was eerily quiet when you pushed the door open, no security system stopping you. 

The farther you walked into the building, the more dread you felt as a thin layer of dust covered much of the furniture. When you entered Tony’s office, you spotted Clint sitting at the computer, alone. You called his name, and he sprinted at you, lifting you in the air, embracing you. 

“Jesus, Y/n we missed you. Where did you go?” Clint spoke after a few minutes. 

“Where are the others?” you ignored Clint’s question. You could sense his hesitance. 

“I was home with Laura and the kids and Natasha called to say they thought Hydra had taken you. They all went to find you, and I haven’t heard from them since. That was a week ago and I came here to see what was going on. I only got here a few hours ago.” You pulled away from Clint and began to pace the room. 

“I managed to track the Quinjet, I was gonna head there and see what I could find, if you want to join me?” you instantly agreed to help Clint and he sent you up to your old room to retrieve your uniform. 

Nothing much had changed in your apartment, a few blankets scattered on the sofa and some boxes of mac and cheese lined the counter. Natasha never was much of a cook.

 Your pillow sat in the middle of your unmade bed, pulled over to Natasha’s side. She always did like to cuddle while she slept. You realized in that moment the mistake you made. You were selfish, you didn’t think about the impact you leaving had on her. You broke her and now it was your fault she was captured. Streaks of sunlight peeked through the curtains, catching the black leather of your combat suit sitting nested among the clutter on the huge brown dresser. You wasted no more time pulling up your suit, grabbing  your knives as you left.

The flight to the Hydra facility was a short one, especially if Clint was flying, not that you minded this time. Upon landing, you spotted the other Quinjet nestled against the entrance to an evergreen forest. You made quick work finding the team footprints and began to track them into the wooded area. All was silent except for the sporadic snapping of twigs and squelching of your boots on the muddy forest floor.

The forest thickened for a moment, You felt sharp thorns lightly tug at the skin on your hands. The scent of stale water wafted through the air. Before long, the treeline gave way to a clearing and in the middle sat a gigantic building ominously staring down at the two of you. It had soaring walls and windows lined most of them. You took in the serene look of the building, a facade to hide the vile creatures that lurked within it’s shadows. 

Finding a back entrance, you and Clint took care of the agent guarding it and quietly slipped inside. You searched the building for what felt like hours, you had managed to avoid encountering too many agents for the most part and the ones you did, didn’t live long enough to inform others about your presence. After sometime, you and Clint came across a large room filled with smaller holding cells. You could hear Steve and Tony bickering about something softly and you chuckle to yourself. You quickly found your team and ran to them, informing Clint to find a key. You had to see her. 

Your fingers intertwine with Nat’s through the metal of the holding cell. 

“You came back” Nat whispered with tears in her eyes. 

“I’m gonna get you out of here, baby” You promised, taking in her face. In had been a long time since you had last seen her and she was still just as beautiful as the day you met her all those years ago. It was in that moment you knew you never wanted to be away from her again. Catching a guard enter the room you broke away from her. The two of you struggle for a moment before you sink your blade into his abdomen. Nat smiled at your brief victory but it didn’t last long as bullets hit the wall behind you, narrowly missing your defenceless team. 

Without even thinking, you reach down, pulling a gun from the lifeless body’s thigh holster. With precise aim you bury the first bullet in the agent’s shoulder, the next bullet finding its target between his eyes. Nat gasped from behind you. Realizing what you had done, your now shaking hand dropped the gun. 

A chill ran through you and you felt light-headed like you were going to faint. You sank to the ground as your heart began to beat faster and faster. As you fell, you spotted Clint sliding the large metal gate to the cell open. Natasha skidded to a halt beside you, falling to her knees and pulling you into her lap. Natasha shushed your cries as she ran her fingers through your hair. 

You weren’t sure how long you sat with her, but after sometime she scooped you up in her arms as the team began the walk to the jets. You were thankful she was carrying you because you weren’t sure you had the strength to walk by yourself. When you reached the Quinjet, she sat at the back with you. Your fingers tangle in her silky red hair as she whispered in your ear about how much she missed you. You leaned up, placing your lips on top of her’s, the warmth and passion of her lips met yours as you disappeared into the comfort of her love and strength.    

A wave of calm washed over you, and you knew you could get better. Therapy was in order and a lot of it. However, you didn’t doubt you could make it through, you had an amazing family there to help you. You needed them and they needed you.  A blanket of silence fell upon the jet, something that would normally terrify, however this time you found yourself embracing the silence. Maybe silence wasn’t always such a bad thing... 

A/N: I figured I would make the end super fluffy since I put you guys through torture in the last two parts. Anyway, thank you for all the support and I hope you enjoyed this mini series! Let me know what you want me to write next, I will write for pretty much every MCU character!

Tagging the people that asked for a part three: @messuhp @caws5749 @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @toastybbb @justagirlnotathreat @cdc-1996 @carol-thirteen

[slaapkat]

Green Lantern + ISA - MR. BIG - "When Larry said his biggest enemy was Green Lantern, they didn't think he meant literally..." [Where rest of the ISA are floored at how GIGANTIC he is irl. Except Brainwave. He is jelly he ain't the tallest no more]

(set very early ISA)

---

We’re going to die, aren’t we?

It’s hard not to react at the thought that gets pushed into his head, courtesy of Henry. Impossibly, Jordan manages to keep a straight face throughout it all, even as Larry continues excitedly chattering away as though this were the first time he’s had a captive audience in ages. Though, given Larry’s entire demeanor, maybe just the first time it’s been a willing one. 

They’ve all gathered in Larry’s apartment, for once. The drive from New York City to Gotham had been nothing short of arduous, with Henry’s insistence on the radio being permanently set to NPR, and the frankly indecipherable directions Larry had sent them to navigate the labyrinthian streets of inner-city Gotham.  

All for a heist Larry had promised was going to be well worth it. The city was full of easy marks, he said. Barely anyone around to stop you, he said. Half the time the cops will even help, he said. 

Henry still wasn’t buying it, sat on the sidelines on the edge of a very beat-up couch, arms crossed with a deepening frown, openly projecting his disapproval at having been talked into this every chance he got. Larry, for his part, is completely oblivious, grinning brightly as he eagerly shows off his proudly curated wall of weapons-- by all accounts just a fancy collection of sports equipment. The key difference, however, being Larry’s showing off amounting to pointing out every piece and explaining in graphic detail exactly how he got kicked out of that particular sport for killing or otherwise maiming someone without sparing a single gorey thing. 

Jordan, sure to Henry’s extreme displeasure, is unfortunately fascinated with it all, eyes wide and bright and listening intently, utterly absorbed. He remembers researching Sportsmaster for weeks before finally seeking him out, carefully nurturing the idea of the new ISA all the while in the hopes that he’d finally get a bite. It must mean something that Larry had invited them all the way back to his home turf to share on a score, surly.

Because he’s going to kill us.

It’s now Jordan finally frowns, turning to face Henry with a stern, “He’s not.”

“Hah?” Larry’s looking at him, confused, brows furrowed and head tilted, grin still plastered on but for a second seeming vaguely threatening instead of manically excited.

Jordan startles, scrambling for a distraction and pointing at the first thing he sees, a long-handled wooden mallet with a narrow-tipped head still hanging on the wall. “I-- I mean, what’s that?”

It’s a sufficient enough distraction, apparently. Larry’s eyes light up in an instant when he sees, grinning brightly as he pulls the object down and looks down at it with a dreamy sigh. 

“My polo mallet,” he declares proudly. “I’ll be taking this baby with me, tonight.” 

“That?” Henry scoffs, finally taking a stand and gesturing disbelievingly at the mallet. “What use could that possibly be to us? And since when do you play polo?”

“Not since I caved a man’s head in on the field with this ol’ beauty here,” Larry states much too casually, his tone taking on an oddly wistful note as he strokes the head of it. If there’s a threat carried in there, it’s buried deep enough not to be obvious, though the suspicious stains that Jordan notices in the wood of the mallet certainly make Larry’s point well enough known. Henry’s eyes narrow, and Jordan feels a pressure on his temples usually indicative of Henry flexing his powers without strict care of a specific target, but whatever Henry sees is apparent enough not to make him press further. His lips press into a thin line and he relinquishes the point, however reluctantly. Jordan inserts himself more obviously in between the two of them and attempts an encouraging smile.

“Henry, it’s made of wood,” Jordan points out helpfully, like it’s supposed to explain everything-- because, well, it is. It evidently doesn’t. Henry’s frown only deepens and Jordan finds himself struggling for an explanation that didn’t sound completely ridiculous, all the while Larry whistles uncaringly and picks various other wooden implements off the wall in preparation for that night. “Because-- Because. Gotham has a superhero who is… weak to wood.”

Jordan sighs and cringes as soon as he says it, cringing again when Larry chirps “It’s true!” over his shoulder. It does not help his case in the slightest. Henry sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose, as though staving off a fast-rising headache. “Okay,” he says. “Okay. Fine. Do we even have a plan to deal with him if he shows up?”

“Don’t get your snuggie in a twist, Brainy,” Larry says brightly, laughing as he hefts a cricket bat of all things onto his shoulder and wrangles Jordan in close with an arm thrown around his. “Of course we have a plan! Classic smash and grab! We get in and get out before the Big Guy ever knows what’s up!” 

Wrong answer, apparently, as evidenced by Henry running a hand down his face in exasperation and groaning, with an added little oh, so we are going to die projected mentally for Jordan’s benefit. Jordan smiles rather terribly. Larry seems to take it all as signs of encouragement. 

“Alright then, bud, alright!” Larry lets out with a whoop, and plants a sloppy wet kiss on Jordan’s cheek with an audible smack; subsequently, the temperature of the room drops ten degrees in an instant. Nobody seems to notice. “It’s game time, baby!”

---

Heists in Gotham apparently don’t amount to much. Larry’s big score turns out to be a slightly upscale jewelry store right on the edge of the Diamond District. Henry’s car is stashed in a nearby alleyway in case of a quick getaway after several earnest promises (by Jordan) that it won’t get stolen and easy assurances (by Larry) that the job will be quick enough that they’ll be back before that even happens. 

“Is it always this easy in Gotham?” Jordan asks, having dutifully frozen solid all the alarms and cameras to allow for Larry to go to town on the window with his bat and an excited hyena-like cackle; Henry stands watch, having been designated as the lookout due to his adamant refusal to partake in any actual smashing until it came time for the grabbing, though Jordan can sense him rolling his eyes even while turned away. 

“Sure is!” Larry replies, vaulting through the destroyed window and wasting no time in driving his fist through the nearest glass display case and grabbing a fistful of jeweled necklaces, stuffing them in his pack and immediately moving on to the next one. “Do you know how many other places are being robbed at this exact moment? They can’t catch all of us!”

Jordan makes a face, but nonetheless climbs in and joins Larry in gathering as many priceless jewels as he could get his hands on; Henry lingers just outside, watching them with shrewd disapproval until his face screws up in confusion, nose wrinkling. 

“Is something… burning?”

That’s enough to give Jordan pause, halfway through driving an ice spike into a safe. The entire store had been dusted with a coating of frost, logically nothing should be getting hot enough to even make a spark. Sure enough, he smells it too-- that unmistakable scent of something on fire, intermixed with the distinct smell of ozone. That couldn’t be right--

Jordan has just enough time to hear Larry’s little ruh-oh before the wall to the side of them suddenly erupts in stunningly bright, green flames. Henry swears aloud, and Jordan feels inclined to join him when the flames unfurl to reveal an outright giant of a man, eyes alight in burning fury and nearly outright snarling at the lot of them. Green Lantern, Jordan knows immediately, remembers him from his first meeting with Larry, but seeing someone in flight is leagues different from seeing it right in front of you, a brick wall of a man emerging like a demon from Hell. Jordan feels himself sweating, actually sweating-- or was he melting? All he knows is that this man is terrifyingly huge, and Larry seemed the only one utterly unconcerned by it. 

“Greenie!” Larry greets enthusiastically, arms spread wide as though expecting a hug, and though his mask hides his face Jordan can hear his exuberant and manic grin loud and clear though his voice. “Where ya been, huh? How’s it going?”

“I’LL SEE YOU IN HELL!” comes the roared reply, a shot of flaming green energy launched in his direction, swiftly deflected with a swing of Larry’s bat and an excited laugh.

“Aww, I missed you too!”

Jordan finds himself slowly backing away as Larry barks out another laugh and launches himself, bat swinging, at Green Lantern with seemingly little care to himself or others, and even less care to just how much Green Lantern seems to dwarf all of them combined. 

“That’s Green Lantern?” Henry hisses through clenched teeth when Jordan returns to his side. “That’s Green Lantern, and we let Larry bring a polo mallet and a baseball bat?”

“He’s weak to wood!”

A plume of emerald flame explodes out the store window, ejecting an airborne Larry along with it, signed Sportsmaster mask and all. He skids and rolls along the street until he comes to a stop and jumps up, wild-eyed.

“Start the car!” He shouts, then unsheathes the mallet and dives right back in without hesitation. Another roar is heard and the foundation quakes faintly beneath their feet. Jordan wilts just slightly. Henry turns with an annoyed hmph and Jordan finds himself trailing after, not quite trusting his powers in the face of the broiling heat inside.

“That’s Green Lantern,” Henry repeats, seemingly to himself, scoffing. “Good lord. Even his presence gives me a headache. And he’s taller than me. Remind me never to set foot in Gotham again.”

Jordan, despite everything, finds himself agreeing.

[reddie-fangirl24]

Eddie, The Patient Chapter 5     (A Reddie Fanfiction)

NOTE: Here is the final chapter to Eddie, The Patient. I have enjoyed every moment of writing this story. Thank you so much for the kind feedback. I hope you all enjoyed this story. It is sad to end it, but I know there will be more stories in the future. I may write little in-between moments. If you have any suggestions, let me know. Enjoy the final chapter!

This was one of the worst nights Eddie, or even Richie could ever endure. It was after two in the morning when Eddie awoke, screaming from a nightmare followed by running into the bathroom, vomiting and painfully crying. Please, let this be the last time, Richie prayed to anyone who could hear him.

Practically carrying his husband back to bed, Richie wiped a cold washcloth over Eddie’s head. Eddie’s fever was climbing like an elevator. It was sad to see the normally energetic chatterbox be taken down by the flu. 

“You’re going to feel better in the morning, Eddie,” Richie whispered to him. The instant Richie pulled up the covers, Eddie’s eyes closed and he was sound asleep. It was much relief to Richie fearing that he was going to have to call an ambulance if Eddie didn’t stop throwing up. It was almost nonstop all day.

Richie sat in a chair close to the bed watching his husband sleep. He held his limp, damp hand, holding it gently so as not to wake him. So fragile. So pale. His patient.

His heart broke at the awful memory when Eddie’s symptoms came out from the other end earlier that day. That was when Eddie choked, unable to cough up what he needed to get out. Ashamed and embarrassed as Richie cleaned him up, Eddie cried thinking he had done something so awful. If Richie hadn’t been there, would Eddie have choked to death? 

As Richie watched Eddie sleep, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of courage fill his insides. Sure, he had taken care of Eddie plenty of times, but prior to having to go back to Derry, Richie never took care of anybody, except himself. And he accomplished just that. That made him feel... good.

And now, Richie never realized how torturing it was when a loved one was sick. About a year ago, Richie had a terrible cold that lasted a week. Eddie was still studying in school, but there were days when he’d take off to take care of Richie. And that wasn’t even when they were married yet. Given how much of an anxious germophobic worry-wort Eddie was, it pained him to see his husband sick.

“Guess this is what happens when you love someone so damn much, eh, Eds?” he whispered, his voice breaking.

Watching Eddie snooze a little longer, Richie crawled under the blankets, spooning Eddie close to him as he went to sleep.

--

The sun hit Eddie’s eyes. Eddie groaned. At least he had an easier time waking up than yesterday morning -- though his mouth was as dry as a desert and his body ached all over, especially his back. His eyes ventured the room spying the bright sun rays coming through the window. He felt warm, not hot or any of those annoying chills shivering up his spine. 

To Eddie’s side, on the nightstand, was a bowl of water, a damp rag, a cup of ginger ale, a bottle of Tylenol, and also a glass of water. The rag obscured half the clock. Something -25. 

Water. Eddie smacked his dry lips together. That fermenting taste was still present.

Pushing himself up was too much of an effort and he fell back into the pillows. His arm was still trying to reach for the glass like a little child trying to reach for the cookie jar on a kitchen counter. 

Just then, Richie walked into the room. Aside from the dark circles surrounding his eyes, Richie had this look of pure excitement overtake his whole face. “Well, there he is! Look who’s awake! I was beginning to think that you were going to sleep the whole day, sleeping beauty!”

“R-Richie...” Eddie’s voice croaked. His hand pointed towards the glass as he struggled to lift himself off his side. 

Helping him sit up, and putting an extra pillow behind his back, Richie handed him the glass of water, helping him hold it. “Small sips, now,” he instructed. 

Eddie more so guzzled down the needed liquid. The water was pure bliss against his haggard throat. It immediately made his insides feel cool. He also noticed how empty it was.

“What time is it?” Eddie asked, wiping the sleep from his eyes as he relaxed back into the pillows.

“Almost 11:30!” Richie answered going to grab the damp rag on the nightstand.

Immediate panic set into Eddie who leaped from the pillows. “11:30?! Fuck, I never sleep in that late! Did my boss call a substitute? I’m late for work! My students are probably acting like a pack of monkeys! I need to take a shower, brush my teeth, find my shoes-”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! Easy there, Mr. Flash!” Richie placed a hand against Eddie’s racing heart and making him sit back into the pillows. For a moment they went through the calming process making Eddie calm down and breathe normally. Slowly, his heart rate went back to normal.

“Thank God you’re back to you!” Richie exclaimed with this gigantic smile, still pressing a hand against Eddie’s heart. Eddie knew that grin. It was the same overjoyed face Richie made when Eddie showed up at his stage door, announcing that he divorced Myra and wanted to be with him. “I already called your school to tell them you’re bedridden today!”

Eddie blinked, somewhat disappointed, but then more relieved feeling the aching pain in his lower back. “Thanks, Richie. That was nice of you.”

Richie washed Eddie’s body with a sponge. “You sweat like a dog yesterday. Your pits even smell like one!” he teased as he helped slide Eddie’s nightshirt over his head. For a moment, Richie frowned, staring at the scar. To relieve the tension, Eddie stuck his tongue out at Richie. It was just like when they were kids. Richie rubbed the soft sponge all around his stomach and chest, and even his armpits. Richie was right. He did smell like a dog! He put on a fresh shirt. 

“How does your stomach feel?” Richie asked, giving his stomach a light pat. 

“Fine. Much better. Just achy.” Wondering if he should have mentioned that last part, Eddie masked a smile. Remembering yesterday’s events at school only made him feel worse. Why couldn’t that have been a blur like most of everything else? 

Turning to Richie who was lounging by his side on the bed, scrolling through the channels, Eddie asked, “Did you have any scheduled rehearsals or shows today?” He still didn’t have the energy to speak.

“No. Well, I was supposed to record the rest of that interview but I told Steve to reschedule it.”

Eddie touched Richie’s hand, getting his attention. “No, Rich, I don’t want to hold you up. Go tape the rest of that interview. It’s-it’s okay.”

Richie scoffed and wrapped an arm around Eddie’s shoulder. “No way, man, you’re way more important! ‘Sides when’s the last time we spent some hubby time together?” He teased poking Eddie in the nose.

Eddie wanted to argue but felt too weak to do so. Richie made him some toast and they sat in bed watching TV, laughing at episodes and making jokes. When was the last time he and Richie spent time together? Leaning against his husband’s shoulder as he was finally able to smell scents without gagging, Eddie basked in Richie’s cologne. He loved that smell. It was his husband’s scent. His husband. His best friend who would do anything for him.

His eyes grew heavy and Eddie fell asleep again for a short time. 

The phone ringing woke him up.

“Hello?” Richie answered. “Oh, hi, Mrs. Alliston. Ruth, sure... yeah, I got the secretary when I called this morning, but I don’t think Eddie will be in until Monday, he is definitely sick as a dog! ... Talk with him? No, he’s pretty tired, like a hibernating bear...”

Oh no... oh no... he knew it, he was going to get fired! Eddie’s heart broke, feeling tears in his eyes. He didn’t want to get fired! This was the first job that he ever loved! Now, what was he going to do? Probably no other school would hire him all because he threw up in front of students. How would this look for Richie? He was going to be disappointed in him. As Eddie hugged his pillow, rolling to the opposite side of the bed so Richie wouldn’t see him, a quiet sob escaped Eddie’s throat.

Right when Richie was nearing the bedroom, his cell phone rang. Slightly groaning when he saw that it was Steve, Richie reluctantly pressed the ‘talk’ button. “Hey, Steve, what’s up?”

“Rich, I got your voicemail this morning. Is it that serious?” Steve asked him, sounding a little stressed. Richie couldn’t blame him after all. Scheduling not just him, but a couple of other clients was not easy. 

“Well, yeah, Eddie was throwing up for most of the day and night. And he had a terrible fever, chills, and he was in pain. Could have filled a bucket with everything that came out!” Richie tried to joke. Ironically, Steve wasn’t so easy to joke around with when it came to situations like this. 

“Just give it to me straight, Rich, will you be able to come in at this weekend?” Steve asked. From the sound of it, he was trying not to sound disappointed. 

Eddie heard Richie sigh. He could just feel the stress and weight on his shoulders. Was he being sick stressing Richie out this much? Oh, he didn’t want to do that. He already put enough over Richie’s shoulders. 

“Look, Steve, I need to take care of everything here. I haven’t been able to spend time with him and I need that. If we could postpone the rest of the taping for the interview next week that would be great. And that show we were thinking about doing on Saturday, that can be postponed, right?”

There was a long pause. Not a good sign. Richie was anxiously digging into his hair waiting for him to say something. Anything. “Yes, Rich, it can,” he finally said.

That was a relief. “Oh, thanks! Listen, I owe it to you, Steve!” Richie said thankfully.

“I know, Richie. But, I just want to bring this up again, I have said it a lot, but you have canceled a number of your own performances in the last five years. I don’t want people to think that you don’t care about your work and that you don’t do it for the fans.”

“What?” Richie exclaimed. “That is so fucking stupid, Steve!” Richie’s loud tone startled Eddie who was beside himself with guilt, burying his face into the pillows.

“You know I am just thinking about probabilities,” Steve said to him apologetically. 

“Well, here’s the truth, you need to consider me! Look, I am going to talk to you later. Just get all the re-scheduling shit together!” With that Richie hung up and slammed his phone on a nearby table, fuming to himself. 

Eddie let out a sob, clutching his pillow. Oh, this was awful! First, he went to school sick, he was getting fired, and now he was keeping Richie from doing any of his shows!

“Eddie?” Richie worriedly asked when he stepped into the room. Guilt swarmed his mind. He was so mad that he forgot about Eddie who was trying to sleep. 

Climbing into the bed, Richie pulled Eddie’s shaking back to his stomach, hugging him close, and kissing his neck. “Shh, it’s okay. I wasn’t yelling at you. None of this is your fault,” Richie soothed. 

“They’re going to fire me!” Eddie cried, clinging to Richie’s arms.

“Fire you? Who, your school?” Richie asked, nuzzling against Eddie.

“Oh, Rich, I did the worst thing yesterday!” Eddie hiccuped.

“What happened?” Richie asked, growing alarmed. 

“I fuckin’ threw up in front of my students! They were so disgusted! Teachers never get sick! They never come to school, that’s why? Now the students told their parents who want me gone! I feel so stupid! Now, Mrs. Alliston is going to fire me and what am I going to do now?”

Eddie sobbed into the pillow, his entire body shaking. Richie held him tightly, tearing up himself. 

“Your boss wasn’t calling to fire you,” Richie whispered into Eddie’s ear.

Relief ran through Eddie’s body. “What? S-She’s not firing me?”

“No, she was just calling to see how you were and wanted to tell you that your first-period class made you a get well card!” Richie explained to him.

Eddie turned around, finally facing Richie. “Really? She’s not firing me?” 

“No! You really think you could get fired for puking in class?” Richie asked not sure whether to laugh or be more concerned. 

“Well, I’m a first-year teacher and...”

Now Richie laughed. “What does that have to do with anything?” 

“I don’t know,” Eddie shook his head, downcast. He sat up on the bed, grimacing slightly. “It was so embarrassing, Richie. I-I don’t think I can ever show my face there again.”

Richie groaned rolling his eyes. “Don’t you think you’re being too dramatic on this, man? You’re not the only first-year teacher to get sick. It happens to everyone. Remember that one teacher who was out once every week because she hated her job? She was sick that one time. It’s normal. And look at me. I barfed in front of the class when I gave that report, remember?”

Eddie sighed, his emotions weighing him down. Richie did make a fair point. All teachers got sick. It was good that his class didn’t resent him for the scene that he caused. Still, that didn’t mean everyone would forget about it though.

Richie got his attention, putting his hand on his face and wiping away stray tears. “Still, you should have gotten my attention yesterday morning. I know I was busy, too, but you should have said something.”

Eddie nodded. “Yeah, I know.”

Richie looked into his eyes again. His love’s energetic enthusiasm still wasn’t there. Just a sad, forlorn expression. “Is there something else that’s bothering you?” Richie asked him. “How is your job going? Do you like it?”

And just like that, Eddie’s eyes beamed. “Oh, Rich, I love being a teacher! The kids, my boss, assignments, everything is great about it.”

Richie smiled. “That’s great. I’m happy.”

“I just wish you were here more so I could tell you,” Eddie told him, frowning.

His face falling, Richie touched Eddie’s hand. “I know. It’s tough trying to juggle our schedules together,” his lip quivered, but he held it together, holding everything inside. Richie was not one to show his emotions. That was tough for him. “I feel like a failed you yesterday.”

Eddie’s heart cracked, squeezing Richie’s hand tighter. “What? No way, Rich! You were busy! It’s my fault.”

“No, it’s mine!”

“I take more fault!”

“Yeah, well I take fault for not paying attention to you!” Richie yelled, his voice breaking. Eddie could just feel Richie shaking underneath his touch. It was heartbreaking to see him this way. “Eddie, you’re my husband. I-I’ve never been in an awesome position like that! I don’t want... to let you down.”

Fresh tears fell from Eddie’s eyes. “Oh Rich, I just don’t want to get in the way of everything.”

“Are you fuckin’ crazy? No way! Don’t you ever think that! You could never get in the way of anything!”

Cuddling together, the couple stayed in their warm embrace for the longest time, taking in one another’s scent. Eddie felt his nerves calm, all the aches and pains disappearing. This was the medicine that he needed. This. He never felt happier. A bliss. That overwhelming feeling he craved. 

Parting, Eddie noticed Richie staring at him. Not in his eyes. He was looking at the spot where he had been impaled. The scar. Doctors were surprised to see him wake up and recover. They were right in the prognosis that Eddie would be affected for the rest of his life. And for Richie, that didn’t make it easier for him.

“Rich, are you okay?” Eddie asked touching his love’s face.

In seconds, the tears and agony came spilling out. “You looked dead every time I looked at you! And-and when you were choking I thought I was going to lose you! I can’t get that fucking image of you bleeding out right in front of me out of my head! I-I thought...” Richie grasped Eddie’s hands, staring into his eyes. “I can’t lose you, Eddie! So many times I felt like I wasn’t doing anything to help you! I would never have let you go to school if I was paying attention. God, I’m sorry!”

Eddie gathered his husband in his arms, patting his withered hair. He let him cry. “Richie, s’okay, I’m right here. I’m getting better, all because of you.”

“I felt so scared,” Richie leaned into his shoulder.

Eddie smiled. “I felt safe when I was with you.”

Parting, they looked into one another’s eyes, touching their foreheads together. “I can’t lose you.”

“And I... can’t lose you,” Eddie admitted. “I wouldn’t be here if you didn’t get me out of that lair, right? Richie, I love you, man!”

A big smile appeared on Richie’s face as the tears fell. “I love you, Eddie,” he held him tightly. “Hey, you want to know something?”

“What?”

“July marks our one-year anniversary. Can you believe it?”

Eddie grunted, amused. “Feels like we’ve been married our whole lives. You annoy me!”

“Hey, don’t get personal or I won’t tell you the good news!” Richie giggled. 

“Okay, just tell me already!” 

“So, you’re finally out for the summer and you will be off for three months, right?” Richie giddily asked him.

“Yeah.”

“I have an offer to make you. I’m touring Nevada for a week at the end of June. And then, get this, I have two weeks off! Let’s go away for our anniversary. Hawaii, Ireland, or learn how to french kiss in Paris!”

“Oh, Richie!” And Eddie kissed Richie on the lips, a long, deep kiss. “That sounds great! Wait, how long have you been planning on this? You know we have to make bookings ahead of time, right? Because we can’t just go someplace without a reservation at a hotel. And we need to plan this together.”

Richie wrapped his arms around his love, smiling endearingly. “It’s great to have you back, Eds. Except you should really brush your teeth!” he grimaced but smiled.

Eddie slugged his husband in his arm. Staring into each other’s eyes, a magnetic force pulled them towards one another. That didn’t stop the couple from fervently kissing, holding one another, moaning as they kissed.

“Wait, Rich!” Eddie reluctantly stopped. “You’re going to get sick.”

“Don’t care, so worth it!” Richie covered Eddie’s chin with kisses. Oh, how they missed this. Eddie’s hands traveled down Richie’s chest until Richie could feel them at his stomach until prodding at his belt.

“Hey, hey!” Richie held Eddie’s hands in his, staring into the man’s wanting eyes. At least he recognized him. “When you’re better.”

Eddie pouted. “I’ve missed you.”

“Me too, man, but hey, I got the entire weekend free.”

“I love you, trashmouth.”

“I love you, asshole.”

The couple cuddled together and sat back into the pillows feeling relief and absolute bliss.

[kabane52]

I think years ago I must have listed the tag “Calvinism” as something to appear on my Tumblr feed, as I started my glorious Tumblr career by harassing Internet Calvinists. While I don’t do that so much anymore, I really do marvel from a distance at how myopic the theological world of the New Calvinist tends to be. Just look at Wayne Grudem’s appalling Systematic Theology. Before I make any criticism I do have to say that every indication suggests that Dr. Grudem is a Christian gentleman. And so I do not wish for my comments to be taken as a nullification of his life as a Christian. 

But with that said, the book’s immense popularity on the evangelical bookshelf speaks very gravely about the state of evangelical (i.e. doctrinally Baptist) theology. Doctrine is presented in its most compartmentalized form. In no place does the reader perceive the inner unity of Christian doctrine or the interconnectedness of each truth with each other truth. Doctrine is constructed simply by attempting to discover each place the Bible speaks to a particular issue and listing each text out. One wonders why God wrote the Bible instead of a systematic theology textbook. Why did God spend so much time describing pieces of furniture? Why spend ten chapters of the Bible in a row simply listing out genealogies (in Chronicles)? 

The Trinity is presented (in a strange form which rejects the eternal generation of the Son on an incredibly flimsy basis) not as a doctrine which informs the entire body of Christian theology and life, but as a deduction which follows from the addition of a list of texts to each other. And naturally, God is seen as choosing certain people for eternal torment unconditionally as well as choosing certain people for eternal bliss unconditionally without a real understanding of how such an interpretation would materially shape our reading of the arc of the scriptures. This is a reading of Romans 9 which is very much rooted in the atomism of the interpreter. Specifically, it is a reading of Romans 9:6-23 as a list of examples of how God makes unconditional choices. New Testament citations of Old Testament narratives are always understood as “examples” because there is no other category to place them in. An atomized system with no place for the typologically interconnected unfolding of world history will only see the past as a list of distinct examples to use in proving eternal truths.

But even more striking than this is the shocking lack of engagement with theologians and positions outside an extremely narrow range of evangelicals. The one example which has always stuck with me is the discussion of Baptism. Baptism, of course, is supposed to be an outward sign of an inward transformation which is entirely superfluous to the accomplishment of that transformation except as a particular “act of obedience.” And it is by immersion. The texts which prove that Baptism does not join one to Christ are not, of course, the texts about Baptism. They are about justification by faith. According to this way of thinking, if Baptism joins the Christian to Christ, then this would be inconsistent with justification by faith. Of course, such logic is the classic road to heresy: a particular doctrine is deduced because it is implicit in another doctrine which is supposedly present in Scripture- even though the doctrine which is deduced is never stated in scripture. Limited atonement is the best example of this.

But Grudem does deal with those texts which describe Baptism as union with Christ. He just doesn’t deal with them in the context of asking whether it unites us with Christ. Instead, he discusses texts like Romans 6:1-4 in trying to demonstrate that Baptism is by immersion- and I agree that it ought to be normatively carried out through immersion. But he quotes the text and then without skipping a beat says things like (not an exact quotation) “Paul here describes baptism as an image of our immersion into Christ’s death.” 

That’s not what Paul says. But he genuinely seems not to notice. All the time I hear Internet New Calvinists making idiotic assertions about their interlocutors ostensibly not engaging exegetically in the texts they cite. Of course, this is complete garbage! Even if we limit ourselves to Arminianism, Arminians have robustly engaged the Calvinistic argument from day one. The entire Arminian tradition was a biblically rooted campaign to bring the Reformed tradition into closer agreement with the Bible. Arminius came to the conclusions he did through a career as a Calvinistic professor of theology where he was engaging with the texts which Calvinists have ever since claimed have not been engaged. Just look at Brian Abasciano’s gigantic two volume discussion of Romans 9. It doesn’t get any more comprehensive than this, my friend.

[kpopfanfictrash]

Poets and Parties (M)

Author: @kpopfanfictrash 

Rating: 18 + (explicit sex)

Word Count: 5,037

Prompt: “I’m trick-or-treating with my kid and you answered the door and oh - fuck me, you’re seriously the hottest thing I’ve ever laid eyes on.”

Summary: As part of the campus little buddies program, you’re bringing Abby trick-or-treating. When she runs up to the GOT (Gamma Omega Tau) fraternity house though, and Jaebum opens the door - everything that once was sensible flies out of your brain. [ this is a repost ]

“Trick or treat,” Abby yells, holding up her hands.

The man and woman at the door – a young couple, late twenties – break out into smiles. “Hello, there!” the woman says brightly, bending down to reach eye level. “What a beautiful – ballerina, yes?”

Abby nods, clearly pleased that they understand. “That’s me!” she giggles, then spins.

You stand behind, watching the exchange. When the man looks up and sees you, he smiles. “Is this your daughter?” he asks happily.

Eyes widening, you nearly choke on the words. “I, uh – nope. She’s,” you swallow, struggling to control your annoyance. Of course, people assume she’s yours – parents bring their kids around,trick-or-treating. “Abby is my buddy, part of the Little Buddy University program,” you explain.

“Ah,” the guy nods, understanding dawning. “I see. Well, what kind of candy do you want, Abby?” he asks, reaching for the bowl in their entranceway.

Abby becomes serious, picking thoughtfully through the layers of multi-colored candy bars. “Hm,” she whispers, standing on tip-toe.

“The buddy program,” the guy asks, bringing your attention to him. “That’s Lewis Elementary school, right?”

You nod, lips tightening. “Yep.”

Lewis Elementary school isn’t in the best part of town. Many of the families are single-parent households, working multiple jobs just to make ends meet. This becomes complicated on nights like tonight – Halloween night, a holiday meant for fun and laughter, not the stress of trying to get off work.

That’s why you’re here. You and the other buddies bring the kids trick-or-treating, going door-to-door in the costumes you bought for them. It’s something you love, being around the kids and tonight is no exception. You smile at Abby, at the pure, unadulterated joy in her expression.

“Thanks!” she yells, grabbing a Snickers bar and turning down the sidewalk.

“Thanks,” you laugh. When the couple nods and wave – you follow. Trailing Abby’s skipping down the driveway, moving on to the next house on the block.

“Abby,” you laugh, adjusting the tiara she forced you to wear. “Wait up!” A tiara, paired with your black tunic and jeans. The most chill princess in existence, but Abby insists that you’re a princess nonetheless.

Veering around the corner, she does a pirouette before sprinting down the street. Your eyes widen when you recognize the street sign: Knight Avenue. Home to much of the University’s campus Greek life. Fraternities, sororities, all of them lined up in a row. An impressive strip, one you rarely frequent. Greek life is something you couldn’t care less about. Most of the guys and girls there are toxic, people you’re better off without.

It’s only four ‘o’clock in the afternoon, the sun just sinking towards the curve of the horizon but already you know the houses will be preparing. Readying themselves for tonight’s booze, drinking games, ping-pong balls and folding tables. They’ll be stringing tiny lights over half-cleaned floors – all in the hopes that their members will lure some semi-drunk person up to their room tonight.

Not that you’re bitter, of course. Rounding the corner, you spot Abby’s pink tutu already halfway up the lawn to GOT – the top fraternity on campus. GOT, or Gamma Omega Tau. You groan out loud at this, breaking into a jog and hoping you reach the house before she rings the bell. No way those boys will have candy – what’s more, they likely won’t look kindly upon some random child ringing their doorbell.

You reach her, just as Abby presses the buzzer. Almost swearing – you catch yourself just in time – you bend to grab Abby gently by the wrist. “Hey, munchkin,” you smile, at eye level. “Let’s go over to the next street, huh? I hear this house has awful candy.”

“Well, that’s just rude.”

You look up, surprised – only for your words to die on your lips.

Fuck, if you’re not staring at the hottest guy you’ve ever seen. He’s on the taller side, lean build with dark, almost black hair. Almond eyes, straight nose and two, adorable moles over his left eye. The guy is dressed in a black t-shirt paired with jeans, eerily similar your own. You straighten quickly, almost knocking the tiara from your head.

“Is that your kid,” the guy asks, nodding at Abby.

Abby stares upwards, her mouth a perfect o. “He’s pretty.”

The guy’s eyebrows lift, trying to stifle his laugh.

Blushing fiercely, you bend to grab Abby’s hand. “No,” you mutter. Somewhat worriedly, you appraise your outfit. Noting with defeat that apparently, this blouse makes you look thirty. “I’m part of the campus buddy program. Abby and I are trick-or-treating tonight.”

“O-h,” the guy nods, breaking out into a smile. The corners of his eyes crinkle, making him look much less threatening. “I was part of that program, freshman year. Then I joined GOT,” he waves his hand at the house behind him, “and things kind of spiraled.”

“Right,” you arch a brow. “I imagine party planning up takes a lot of time.”

Staring back, the guy’s lips tighten. “Actually,” he corrects, tilting his head. “I’m the president of GOT. It does take up a lot of time.”

Oh, fuck. Shifting your weight, you frantically try and backpedal. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean – ”

“I know what you meant,” the guy interrupts, eyes darkening. “I don’t blame you, really. It was my impression of the Greek system before I joined. Since then though, I’ve doubled our charity outreach, implemented three campus-wide initiatives and organized a fundraiser for a local organization which raised over five thousand dollars. The fraternity isn’t just fun and games,” he smiles, the gesture terse.

You stare at him, eyes wide. “I guess… I never really thought about it before. I’m sorry.”

The guy exhales, pushing himself from the frame. “Sorry, that was sort of preachy. I guess I should be used to it, by now.” He exhales and, upon looking down, sees Abby staring back at him. His face changes, brightening as he drops his knee. “Hi, there,” he grins. “I’m Jaebum. Are you a ballerina? I love your tutu.”

When you arch a brow, Jaebum looks up and shrugs. “My sister,” he explains, glancing over his shoulder. “HEY! JINYOUNG!”

You blink, unsure what he’s doing – until a tall, messy-haired guy appears behind him.

“Oh, Jinyoung,” you nod, recognizing his face.

Jinyoung was in your Calculus class, freshman year. The two of you often studied together, but you didn’t know he rushed GOT. Jinyoung was quiet back then, and you never really pictured him as the frat boy type – but then, Jinyoung is quite attractive. You suppose it’s not out of the norm.

When he reaches Jaebum’s side and sees you standing there, Jinyoung breaks into a smile. “Hey, Y/N. Long time, no see.”

Jaebum looks back and forth between the two of you. “You two know each other?” he asks, slight furrow to his brow.

“Yeah,” Jinyoung nods, stifling a yawn. “We were in freshman Calc together, with Professor Mooney. Y/N saved my behind multiple times. I’m hopeless at that kind of thing.”

“Behind,” Abby giggles, prompting Jaebum to wiggle his eyebrows.

He then looks at Jinyoung. “Hopeless at what? Numbers?”

Jinyoung punches him in the shoulder. “Calc isn’t numbers,” he gripes. “It’s letters, disguised as numbers. Honestly, it’s a small wonder you aced it,” he adds, looking at Jaebum.

“Why?” you ask, even as Abby tugs your hand.

“Jaebum is a poetry major,” Jinyoung explains. “Such a show-off, good at everything. Anyways, why did you call me over?”

“Right. Do we still have candy leftover from the last chapter meeting?”

Jinyoung nods. “Yep, why?”

“Abby,” Jaebum looks down, grinning at Abby. “Would like chocolate. I aim to please.”

“Oh,” Jinyoung blinks, as though just recognizing the child on their doorstep. “Right! Hang on.”

He turns, disappearing into the gigantic house as you stare. Jinyoung passes several boys on his way, all of them in various states of cleaning. Another guy – Jackson, you think his name is? – carries orange-colored pumpkin lights out to the backyard, with another guy fiddles with the speakers.

“We’re having a party,” Jaebum announces, noticing your gaze. “A party which, I suppose did take up a lot of time planning.”

Your cheeks flush. “I’m sorry, really – I didn’t think.”

His eyes are bright though, and you realize he’s joking. “I’m kidding, really,” he waves his hand, then looks at Abby. “Not to worry, fair lady. The candy is on its way!”

Abby frowns. “What kind of candy.”

Jaebum’s lips twitch. “What kind is your favorite?”

“Kit-Kat bars.”

“What a coincidence,” Jinyoung declares, striding into view. “We have a bunch of Kit-Kat’s right on top.”

When Jinyoung bends to show Abby the bowl – Jaebum looks at you. “You were in Calculus with Jinyoung?” he asks, voice quiet.

“Yep,” you nod, watching Abby and Jinyoung interact. She frowns seriously, taking her time. Picking up each bar independently to turn it over.

“Y/N is an Engineering major,” Jinyoung coughs, from his spot by the ground. “It’s why she basically saved my life in math. She’s crazy smart.”

Jaebum nods. “Ah, that’s amazing.”

“Not really,” you shake your head, cheeks warm. “Poetry, though – that’s a major you don’t hear every day.”

Jaebum shrugs, one shoulder rising and falling. “I suppose it’s not.”

He falls quiet, while Abby grabs a Kit-Kat bar. “Thank you, Gym-young,” she chirps, turning away.

You laugh, at the look on Jinyoung’s face. Slight outrage, without the proper avenue to express his concern. “Sorry,” you apologize, straightening your expression to normalcy. “Anyways, I better go catch up with her. You guys were nice, sharing your candy – but I doubt Epsilon Chi Omega is as accommodating.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” Jinyoung shrugs. “They’re pretty good guys. Just – oh, shit. YUGYEOM!” he yells, seeing the freshman teetering awkwardly on top of a ladder. “THAT’S NOT HOW YOU HANG THE HOLIDAY LIGHTS! Must I do everything myself,” he mutters, before walking away.

Jaebum laughs, watching him go. “So,” he turns back to you.

“So,” you say, intending to leave – but finding your feet rooted to the floor. “Thanks for the candy.”

“No problem,” Jaebum watches you a second longer, then clears his throat. “I know this doesn’t really seem like your scene but, if you’re bored tonight, you’re more than welcome to come to our party. After dropping Abby off, of course,” he adds, nodding at the sidewalk.

Abby stands at the bottom of the porch, frowning with concentration while counting her candy. You look back at Jaebum and before you can think twice about it, nod. “Yeah, that’d be nice.”

Jaebum’s eyes brighten. “Great. I – well, I should go. Need to make sure Jinyoung hasn’t killed Yugyeom,” he adds, dropping a wink while turning away. “See you tonight, Y/N,” he calls, voice fading as he walks down the hallway. “Don’t forget to wear your costume.”

Fuck.

Later that night you stand, transfixed on the sidewalk. It’s amazing, the transformation that’s occurred in just a few hours. Walking up their driveway, you almost don’t recognize the GOT house. Windows and doors thrown wide open, light and music spilling out onto the lawn. Pumpkins and lights sprinkle the porch, crowds of people milling in between.

Somewhere inside must be a dance floor since even from here, you can hear the loud thumping bass and catcalls. Games are located out on the side lawn – beer pong, flip cup and slap cup. None of which interest you, so you wrinkle your nose and move on.

“Wait, wait – Y/N,” your roommate, Chelsea tugs on your sleeve. “I want to play!”

“Chels,” you groan, turning to look. “Do you really want to suffer through the embarrassment of chugging beer, flipping a small, plastic cup and likely getting wasted in the process?”

Chelsea purses her lips, thinking about it. “Yep, I do. See ya!” she yells, bounding across the lawn.

You laugh, shaking her head when you see her join Bambam’s game. The two are close, always pretending to study in the library while getting absolutely nothing done. ‘Working on a group project,’ is their usual response, whenever someone deigns to ask.

Looking beyond, you continue up the hill. Stuffing both hands into your pockets and wishing you’d thought to bring along another person. You don’t know what you were thinking, coming with just Chels. Jaebum is the president of GOT, which means he’ll likely be busy all night. He probably only invited you from pity, or just because he’s a nice guy.

It’s just as you’re thinking this, someone taps you on the shoulder. You whirl quickly, coming face to face with Jaebum. “Oh,” you blink, the air rushing from your body. “Hi.”

Jaebum smiles at your surprise. “You came.”

Nodding, you scan his frame. He’s dressed in a tan, three-piece suit tonight. A white button-down underneath this, red tie loose around his neck and hair slicked back. He looks, in summary, nothing short of amazing.

But – you have no idea who he is. “What’s you costume?” you ask, frowning.

“Sebastian, from La La Land,” Jaebum shrugs. “I thought about lugging the piano around, but then thought that might be overkill.”

You snort, despite yourself. “Clever,” you nod. “I loved that movie.”

“Same,” he agrees, voice softening. He scans your body, coming to a stop on your face. “And you are… Daria,” he announces, nodding to himself.

Your eyebrows lift, surprised. “Bingo. How did you guess?”

“Please,” Jaebum grins, then waves a hand. “Give me a challenge, why don’t you?”

At this, you do laugh. “Of course, the sarcastic expression was a dead giveaway. It’s a great party you have going on,” you offer, glancing around.

“Mhm,” Jaebum raises his cup, sipping from its red, plastic rim. “I guess so.”

Arching an eyebrow brow, you smile. “You guess?”

“It’s better now,” he says simply, watching you blush.

“That’s – I,” you falter.

“Would you like to go for a walk?” Jaebum asks, lips lifting in a smile.

Nodding jerkily, you don’t trust yourself with words. “Don’t you have to stay here, though?” you ask, glancing back at the crowd. “As the president of GOT?”

Jaebum shrugs, following your gaze. “I’m sure they’d prefer it if I disappeared, actually. The less I see, the less I must yell at them for tomorrow. Already, Mark is on my list.”

“Mark Tuan?” you ask, recognizing his name.

Jaebum nods. “He invited both Youngjae’s ex-girlfriends, then forgot to tell him. The poor guy was in for a shock, when he came downstairs.”

You laugh, pushing a strand of hair behind your ears. “Rough night for Youngjae.”

“Yep,” Jaebum admits. He drains his cup, then exhales. “For sure. Even worse without alcohol, though – want any?”

“What kind?” you venture, hesitant. “Anything pink-colored, containing grenadine or that has the word ‘panty” in the title, count me out.”

Jaebum grins, turning to walk up the hill. When you follow, he glances sideways. “Odd,” he frowns. “Does that mean you don’t want a hearty cup of our Pink Panty-Dropper Punch? It’s delicious,” he wiggles his empty cup at you.

You groan, shaking your head. “Please, no. And you best keep your panties on, mister.”

Jaebum laughs, pushing open the side door and leading you into the kitchen. “Noted. How about a beer, instead?” he calls, opening the fridge. “I know, not exciting – but at least there’s a cap on it.”

You nod, accepting the bottle he hands you. “312?” you read, turning the bottle in your hands.

He nods. “My personal stash. Sh, don’t tell the others.”

Miming zipping your lips, you nod.

Jaebum moves past, walking out the same door you came. “You coming?” he pauses, looking glancing back.

You nod, barely considering anything else while you step outside. Out on the lawn, the party is in full swing. Laughing, dancing college students everywhere. To your right, two guys stand arguing about dibs and the rules; nearby, some girl yells that if Monster Mash doesn’t play, Halloween is officially canceled. You start to giggle, listening. Quieting quickly, when Jaebum turns and grabs your hand in his.

He looks down, then back up. “Is this okay?” he says, uncertainty in his eyes.

You nod, then whisper, “Yes.”

When you follow, you’re unsure why you whispered. Only that the butterflies in your stomach seemed to demand as much, choking your volume with fear and excitement.

“Good,” Jaebum smiles, before tugging you along. He continues to walk – past the beer pong, past Chelsea and Bambam. Past the members of GOT until reaching a break in the bushes. Lifting both brows, Jaebum ducks through, smiling back before sipping his beer.

“Ouch,” you grumble, as a branch nearly smacks you in the face – Jaebum almost drops his bottle, catching this to push it aside.

“Sorry,” he winces, starting to laugh. “That was my bad.”

You just shake your head, pushing forward to clutch his hand tighter. “Don’t worry,” you grin, brushing his hips with yours.  “I’m used to rougher stuff than that.”

Jaebum’s eyes darken, following your body. He walks beside you, letting go of you long enough to touch your waist. Sliding his hand around you, the tips of his fingers brushing your abdomen. You let him do this, inhaling shakily when his hand comes to rest on your hip – nothing more than that, but it’s enough to make your heart flutter. Your breath catches, quickening in anticipation.

As you walk, the houses change to gardens. This turns into a golf course, which becomes the campus grounds. The University is a beautiful place at night. The trees arch overhead, heavens breaching the branches to dot your face with moonlight. Jaebum turns to look at you, scanning your profile.

“What?” you ask, slightly breathless. Turning free of his arm to walk to the nearest bench, gently lowering yourself to sit.

Jaebum remains standing, looking at you. “Just… wondering why you came tonight.”

“You invited me,” you remind, drawing your legs up cross-legged, taking a sip of your beer. “Or did you forget?’

“Oh, I remember,” Jaebum smiles, then tilts his head. “But you could have come for any number of reasons.  Maybe you needed a place to wear your Halloween costume,” he muses, holding up a finger. “Or maybe you’re the world champion of flip cup, and wanted someone to play.”

“Oh, yes,” you laugh, taking another sip. “That’s it. I can’t believe you dragged me away from all the games I was playing.”

“Or maybe,” Jaebum continues. “You have a secret crush on a member of GOT, and desperately wanted to see him.”

Instead of answering, you take a sip. “Interesting.”

Jaebum’s eyes darken, sparking. “Oh? So, number three?”

Shrugging, you look down at the bench beside you. “It’s plausible, that’s all I’m saying.”

Chewing the inside of his cheek, Jaebum takes a step closer. “Alright, so let’s say you were crushing on a member of GOT.”

“A wild assumption, but go on.”

“Right,” Jaebum clears his throat. “I could help, you know.”

Stomach sinking, you look back up. He could help – meaning he doesn’t like you? You’ll admit, you thought maybe he did. When he held your hand, asked you on this walk. You thought Jaebum was making his move on you. Maybe not, though.

Taking a sip from your bottle, you let your lips linger on the edge. Watching Jaebum’s eyes follow. “Wait a minute,” you sigh, shaking your head. “I never admitted to having a crush on anyone here. This is all conjecture. Maybe,” you muse, eyes gleaming, “I came because I wanted to hear you recite poetry. You ever think about that?”

Jaebum nearly chokes, swallowing the wrong windpipe. “I – what?”

“You’re a poetry major,” you remind, swinging your legs out from under you. “Maybe I wanted to listen to some Halloween poetry.”

“I,” Jaebum stops, repressing his laughter. “You thought a frat party would be the place for this? Open mic at midnight, where I spit out my rhymes?”

You nod, expression innocent. “Is that not what frat parties are usually like?”

Jaebum stifles a grin, dragging his hand through his hair. “No, no – you’re right. This is exactly what happens, I just got confused. Right then,” he claps his hands together, serious. “What kind of poetry do you want to hear? Scandalous? Sensitive? Some combination of the two?”

“Acrostic,” you deadpan. “Halloween themed.”

Jaebum groans, dragging both hands down his face. “Are you serious?”

“Deadly serious. Ha – get it?” you grin, chuckling. “Halloween, dead. Wow, I crack myself up.”

Jaebum peeks out at you. “It’s good you crack someone up. Hold onto that feeling.”

You frown, tapping your foot against the bench. “I’m waiting,” you sing-song. “An acrostic, using the words Halloween Time.”

This beer must be going to your head, since you feel slightly fuzzy. Overly warm, watching Jaebum struggle. Either you’re getting drunk, or it’s a combination of several things – the guy before you, the chilly night air, the warming drink and spiraled excitement.

Jaebum squishes his eyes together, then sighs. “First syllable?”

“Ha.”

He opens one eye. “Haunted by ghosts of past beer, am I.”

You grin at this, holding up a finger. “Lo.”

“Lo and behold,” Jaebum throws out both arms, “my cup has run dry.”

Stifling a laugh, you lean back on your hands. “Ween!”

Jaebum shakes his head. “WEENED,” he declares, spinning to set his beer down on the ground, “from the bosom, of our dear mother night.”

Your lips are pressed firm together, trying to hold in your giggles. Setting your own beer down, you arch a brow. “Time?”

“Time,” Jaebum drops his head to his hands, “for your fears to up and take flight.”

“Bravo!” you cheer, bursting into laughter as you launch yourself to your feet. “That was beautiful, it was amazing, I – oh.”

Jaebum has caught your arms in his. He stands suddenly centimeters away, his gaze dark, moonlight bright and your breath caught tight in your throat. A strand of hair falls into his gaze, searching your expression. “Did you really come for the poetry?” Jaebum asks you, his voice soft.

“That’s not all I came for.”

“Oh?” he smiles.

“No, I – ”

Jaebum kisses you. Wrapping both arms around you, pulling you into him. His hands slide up your body, cupping your face with his fingers. Jaebum inhales, drinking you in briefly before pulling back to rest his forehead with yours. “I’m sorry,” he apologizes, voice ragged. His eyes shine, dark in the night. “I … you barely know me.”

You interrupt this by kissing him again, lifting to tip-toes and wrapping both arms around his neck. Jaebum stumbles backwards, catching you around your waist. His lips tangle with yours, tongue pushing into your mouth. His lips hot, welcome, tasting of mint and beer. You draw him into you, pressing your body everywhere you can reach. Jaebum is warm, solid. When he kisses, it’s both fierce and gentle, melting you straight to your core. You feel liquid, molten in his grasp and when he pulls away – you understand why he’s gasping.

“Do you…?” Jaebum hesitates, then looks over his shoulder.

You nod. Not saying more, just lacing your fingertips with his. Jaebum smiles, turning around. The entire way to his house, you’re giddy. Half-giggling, smiling when Jaebum pushes you up against a tree, his lips finding yours in the dark. His kiss hardens, hands trailing up your sides. Tangling in your hair, probably making you look ridiculous – but you find you don’t care. You’re just as excited as he is, ruining his perfect gel with greedy fingers.

When you reach his lawn, you break apart. Jaebum moves behind, keeping his hands on your hips while walking you back to the house. “Hey,” he nods at Jinyoung, voice deeper than usual.

Jinyoung’s lips quirk, though he says nothing – merely returning to the person he’s deep in conversation with. When you glance behind you, Jaebum’s gaze is steady. His eyes bright, crinkled when you look his way. “Just a little bit farther,” he whispers, reaching out as soon as you’re inside and tugging you towards the stairs.

No one pays any attention, when Jaebum leads you upwards. Pausing on the landing to pull you to him. Jaebum kisses you roughly, body molding to yours. “I,” he breaks off, kissing down your neck. “Just tell me what you… I mean, if …”

“Jaebum,” you interrupt, smiling. “Which one is your room?”

His eyes widen and he nods, turning back around. Leading you down the hallways, pushing open a door at the end. When you step inside, Jaebum’s room is what you would have expected. Messy, but in a way which suggests organized chaos. Piles of clothing by color, stacks of paper and pens strewn about on his bed. Jaebum crosses to this hastily, sweeping them aside.

“Sorry,” he bites at his lower lip. “I wasn’t thinking about – I, well didn’t expect this.”

Walking closer, you come to a stop before him. Without another word, you kiss him. Jaebum groans, pulling your lower lip between his teeth. Walking the two of you backwards before sitting down on his bed. He tugs you with him, your legs falling to either side at his hips. As you continue to kiss, you move above him. At first, just in small motions. A pressing of bodies, trying to get closer than you already are.

Then it’s Jaebum’s hands, anchoring you to him. Pushing upwards, while you grind against him. “Ah,” you gasp, moving down to his neck. “Jaebum.” Your lips trail to his ear, bite down. Taking care to be gentle with his multiple piercings.

Jaebum groans, bucking his hips upwards. You’re wearing a skirt, as part of your costume and Jaebum’s hands slide beneath it. Moving further up your legs, revealing skin while you shrug from your jacket. Letting this fall to the ground, even as his thumbs brush the tops of your thighs.

Jaebum’s eyes are dark with longing, fingers sliding until he feels how wet you are. His eyes widen. “Shit,” he groans and when you blush at his words, he kisses you again. “That’s so fucking hot.”

As you kiss, his fingers trace the front of your underwear. You tug insistently at his tie, undoing with practiced fingers, flinging this sideways to shove his jacket entirely off. Jaebum pulls back long enough to remove his vest and you’re midway through unbuttoning his shirt when he flips you over. Jaebum pushes your shirt upwards, kissing a heated path down your body.

You gasp, when he tugs your panties to your knees. His tongue replacing his fingers, tracing circles which quickly become needy, messy movements. His lips hot and insistent, one finger sliding in from below. You gasp, arching against him on the bed. Unable to stop the noises your making, nor the way your legs clench around him.

“Jaebum,” you groan, eyes shut tight. “Fu-ck.”

He smirks, pausing to look at you. “Mm,” Jaebum agrees, lowering back down. “You sound so beautiful when you moan.” He returns to your clit, beginning to tease. Drawing you close to the edge, body hovering on the brink of an orgasm before his fingers and mouth abruptly stop. “I,” Jaebum groans, suddenly unsure. “Do you want to – ?”

You’re already reaching for his pants though, already undoing his buttons. “I want you inside me,” you whisper in his ear, listening to Jaebum’s relieved groan.

“Fuck,” he mutters, reaching for the nightstand. He yanks open a drawer and pulls out a condom. Kicking his pants aside, along with his underwear, shoes and socks. Watching you with greedy eyes, as you remove everything else.

Taking his condom, you bite down on your lip. Jaebum is hard, erect between his thighs and he shudders, when you slide your hands over his tip. Watching his eyelids flutter, a groan slip past, you wonder if you’ve ever seen anything hotter. Jaebum opens his eyes when you’re done, sliding his hands up your thighs and lifting you higher. He lines you up to his cock, lowering you onto him.

“God,” you gasp, when he fills you. Burying your face in his neck and wrapping your arms tight around him. His hands are firm on your ass, stretching you slowly, pushing you down those last, final inches. “Jaebum,” you whimper, clutching him tight.

He stays like that for a moment, chest flush to yours. Holding you gently, feeling himself inside you. Then his breath hitches, and he looks up. “Baby,” he murmurs, shifting slightly. “Can I move?”

You nod, inhaling when he slides you off. Hovering briefly, before thrusting back up. “Ah,” he gasps, repeating the motion. Disappearing inside you when you whimper, dropping down with equal enthusiasm on his body. Jaebum moves slowly at first, each thrust purposeful – movements which quicken, as your body tightens around him.

Jaebum’s thrusts become harder, faster while he grabs your hips. Fucking upwards, slamming you down while you gasp in approval, hands fisting in his hair. You’re barely able to contain yourself when he finds your nipple. Teasing the hardened peak with his lips while fucking into you from below. You lean forward eagerly, greedy for more.

Each stroke is punishing, your body wet and sinful in the dark. Your body tightens around him, unable to do more than gasp out his name. Jaebum grunts, fucking harder – until you come apart above him. Body shuddering while Jaebum thrusts into you one, final time. He gasps, emptying himself and clutching tighter. His breath is labored, sweat beading on his brow as he looks at you.

As you come down from your high, you stare back. Body flushed, exhausted by pleasure. “I,” you start to say, stopping when Jaebum captures your lips with his.

“Will you spend the night?” he murmurs, into your mouth.

Heart lifted, you nod. Unable to think of what to say when he grins, pulling out and rolling to his side of the bed. Jaebum walks into his bathroom, cleaning himself off. When he returns, he pauses at the door. “Even if you didn’t come here because you were crushing on a member,” he grins, arching a brow. “I invited you because of my crush on you.”

Then, barely able to contain his smile – he joins you in bed.

Author’s Note: Thank you for reading! Please read @iwonchubebe ‘s installment, here and @rude–jude ‘s installment, here. Enjoy!

[lilpee-pee]

Hilda is even more obscure than I initially thought; a mythological masterpiece!

I’m not sure how many other people have noticed this, but here’s the list I’ve made from lots of research! This post will consist of no specific spoiler. But if you don’t want to know about anything yet, DO NOT READ THIS!!!

So after re watching the entire show, I noticed something rather interesting. Each episode features a creature or culture derived from ancient mythology. 

Episode 1;

The Elves: At first, I assumed this was about fairies. The tiny civilizations they must have. But after looking at the landscaping of the backgrounds, it hit me. These are based off of Iceland’s Huldufolk. This translates directly to hidden people. Said to be protectors of their good fortune, the government of Iceland made completely illegal any construction or interference with what is supposedly land that belongs to these small, invisible elves, who live in miniature houses called alfhols. Wait. Alf? Alfur? Coincidence? I think not. 

Episode 2;

Giants: The giants of Hilda are solely based off of Norse mythology. Legend tells of a tribe of beautiful giants, who once lived between the Sierra Nevada and the Rocky Mountains. There were hundreds of species, living in hundreds of habitats. The Great Spirit, however, grew tired of their aloof and mighty behaviors toward each other, so he allowed their enemies to conquer them; the humans. Only two giants survived: Paiute and his wife. Sounds about right. 

The Woodman: This monotone cryptic of Hilda’s assorted friends took me quite a bit of research to track down the origins to. But finally, I found him. Based on Greek culture, he’s actually a dryad, or “oak nymph”. These walking, wooden creatures exist to look after the oak tree they were forged from. So let’s suspend some disbelief and assume Hilda’s ancestor used the Woodman’s tree in order to build the cabin Hilda lives in. Why else would he have stuck around, since he’s always minorly annoyed and yet indubitably shows up in many of Hilda’s childhood crayon drawings? Just a thought.

Episode 3;

Thunderbird: These birds originate from Native American beliefs. By flapping its gigantic wings, it creates thunder and lightning, controlling the storm season and bringing excellent harvest. With storms, come rain, so the arrival of the thunderbird was always a promising sign. Present in their dances, tattoos, and carvings, he protected them from the great horned serpent and it’s destructive tendencies, bringing whoever favored him good luck and prosperity. Slides right in with Trolberg’s annual parade, don’t you think? And it brings a whole new connotation to the city’s “statue”, when the Great Raven explains how he had sat on top of it; his symbol was always present at the very top of a totem pole. 

Episode 4;

Vittra: These stinky little onions are more than they seem to be. From Northern Sweden, these underground dwelling nature spirits are very aggressive, territorial, and hated humans. They’re also known to have invisible cattle, which they milk for food and commonly steal from mortals who have wronged them. Really explains the cows, huh? They’re known to make humans’ lives miserable, especially when they meddle with their tunnels, lifestyle, or even cross their borders. Even in modern day, people have moved their homes away from any nearby “vittraställe”, or vittra way, just in case. 

Episode 5;

Trolls: Another Icelandic folktale, trolls are said to have been dim witted, man eating creatures that turned to stone upon contact with sunlight. Even in Lord of the Rings, they used these concepts. So why wouldn’t Hilda? If you visit the beaches of Iceland, it is said that the huge boulders scattered about the shores, and in the water, were once trolls. They were caught by the dawn as they attempted to crush the ships returning to their homes, carrying fishermen finding food for their families. These “troll rocks” are their bodies, reaching out to the sea, now forever entrapped in stone. 

Episode 6; 

Marra: Originally known as mare, which eventually attributes to the word “nightmare”, the Hungarian marra are malicious entities that possess humans with certain amounts of negative energy. Teenagers with depression, mostly, which also helped create the possessed, creepy kid trope in horror movies. While you sleep, they perch on your chest, and expose your mind to its deepest fear. Eventually, the marra evolved into the legend of the boogey man, so in retrospect, they never actually disappeared. 

Episode 7;

The Bragga: These outcasted group of elves, who made a failed contract with the Aldric family over “No Elf’s Land”, aren’t just coincidentally donning beard braids and helmets, obsessed with fighting physically, drinking ale, spitting, and riding rabbits like they’re jousting horses. They’re based off of Nordic Vikings, their separation from Scandinavia, and the culture that they eventually developed. Their tendencies to favor combat over reason is made evident, too, however stereotypical it may be. This is pretty much the only example the show has used so far to allude to a historical period of time. 

Episode 8;

Tide Mice: Taken from Mapuche mythology, these voodoo rodents are actually supposed to be colo colos. Evil, rat-like creatures, they hide in your house to feed on your saliva while you sleep, eventually bringing about comatose states and long term memory loss. Once all of your life juice has been depleted, your soul is completely sucked from your body and the colo colo consumes it in order to go on living. Despite their complete irrelevance with wicca, the way the show manages to assimilate the two is genius. 

Episode 9;

Ghosts: I feel like this speaks for itself. They’re very commonly used, but the show does a good, unique job of connecting a ghostly presence not with a negative haunting that needs to be handled or else everyone will die, but with a helpful spirit, just hanging around a house because it’s linked to a specific item or object. 

Episode 10;

Wind Spirits: The wind spirits, which were based off of Roman Anemoi, minor wind gods that each represented a cardinal direction, are shown in Hilda as debaters who couldn’t come to a conclusion. Their fighting is what makes gigantic natural disasters. This is mocking a bit of fun of Roman philosophers, who were known to sit around in their forums, arguing until the entire town couldn’t stand it. The irritated citizens would call these prolonged discussions, “storms of the intellect”. 

Episode 11;

Cursed Cottage: I have no clue where this myth derives from, and I couldn’t find much else except Into the Woods songs, but this is basically adopting the enchanted cottage trope. The gingerbread house that actually houses a wicked witch, the lone hut that holds everything Goldilocks longs for except for its occupants; so many fairy tales center their setting around a manipulative house that tries to snatch you up and never let you go. So this one is probably just a primal usage of that timeless idea, combined with a cool twist of inter dimensional neurotics. Pretty cool!

Episode 11;

Nisse: Also fondly known as house brownies, nisse are Norweigian dwarves, living inside of your home. Sometimes known to mischievously steal your things, like socks, car keys, old toys, jewelry, etc, they make nests in your walls or your abandoned, most frequently forgotten to check spots. If you are kind to them, leave them food, and treat them well, they will go out of their way to do good things for you, like wash your dishes, dust your desk, or, yknow, purge evil energies from your body. But if you anger them, they can be quite a hassle; breaking things is a usual reaction. Either way, if you ever catch them, you have the right to forcefully evict them from your home. 

Episode 12;

Black Hounds: Black hounds, throughout the history of mythology, are always seen as a dark, ominous omen, warning you of potential suffering, struggle, pain, turmoil, chaos and death. So pretty darn bad. Seeing a black hound, or even owning one, is still a superstition, today. They’re literally called the “accumulation of everything that is evil on this plane of existence.” But, if you haven’t already watched Hilda, keep Sirius Black in mind, and his patronus, which reminds us, “don’t read a book by it’s cover.” 

That’s all I’ve got to say, gamers! There are some that I skipped, like the lindworm, water spirits, stuff like that. But all in all, Hilda is a mythological masterpiece. Watch it whenever you can if you appreciate lore in any way, because it’s not just a beautiful, naturally diversified show about a socially anxious girl assimilating into a new culture. It’s taking incredibly interesting and obscure pieces of mythological history and braiding it into a perfectly constructed storyline. Whether or not it’s educational is up to you. Not even including here how breath takingly gorgeous the animation, use of color, and backgrounds are. Just... please. Don’t sleep on it! 

[cerillosvillage]

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Eleven: What You Live By

Lay me down in the bed that I made/ Starved for sleep by the shrill serenade/ Singing over and over/ You will die by what you live by

Two hired hands slowly climbed down out of the back of the wagon, carrying a heavy slab of stone between them. The wagon looked out of place, sitting as it was on the floor of the box canyon. The canyon's walls were high and steep, and bent inwards towards the top, making the space feel like a natural cathedral. The rocks were striated with ancient layers of volcanic tuff and red sandstone, with black streaks like soot that ran perpendicular to the natural rock layers. The canyon floor was all rock and sand, the area devoid of any life.

The wagon was painted in a rich purple and lettered with gold paint, declaring in a fanciful script the name and occupation of its owner. The Spectacular Garmites, it read, Stage Magician, Psychic, Master of Illusions! But there was no magic show happening here; it just so happened that the show wagon was the only one Garmites owned.

"Are you sure you want to return this thing?" The magician asked as he watched the hired help struggle under the weight of the sheet of stone. "I dare say we could get more use out of it than this place could."

"Are you really suggesting we keep a piece of the place that killed me just because you want to have sex on it?" Picketwire asked. She had only blank white expanses for eyes, but Garmites was sure she was glaring at him out of the corner of them.

"Well, when you put it that way…"

"Men," she muttered, and he knew she had returned her gaze to the workers as they approached the canyon wall.

"Hey," he murmured, turning and reaching out to her with his stone arm. He cupped her face, running his thumb over her cheek. "I finally found out that I can touch you after six months of being in love with you. Can you really blame me?"

She closed her eyes and leaned into his touch. Her hand came up and covered his, and he knew she felt the same. Both in that she felt the same longing need to touch him, and that she loved him. They had expressed the mutual feeling after the first time they made love - and immediately fell into each other's' arms to make love multiple times in the same day. Six months of an enforced distance because of their curses, and finally a chance for closeness… it was like a floodgate had opened.

But here she was, willingly getting rid of the one piece of furniture that she could sit or lay on.

Picketwire opened her eyes again, turning her face up to Garmites.

"We'll figure something else out. Better yet, we'll find a way to restore my body so that I can touch all of you."

A chill travelled up his spine at the thought. He had wanted to reverse his own curse for the sake of his life, of course, but now that he had a goal for what to do with his body after he was free from the stone that was replacing his skin, he wanted to find a fix more than ever. Of course Picketwire would only feel the same.

He leaned down to brush his lips against hers, to feel that gentle numbing tingle that he was coming to enjoy, when one of the hired hands called out to him.

Both he and Picketwire let go of one another, straightening and looking ahead.

The closed end of the canyon consisted of a great stone wall covered with paintings and pictographs displaying all sorts of symbols, from animals to people to celestial bodies. Some were so old that they were barely visible, while others were only a hundred or so years old. Chunks of the pictographs were missing, slabs of stone having fallen off or been broken off by archeologists and would-be tomb robbers.

And there, in the center of the wall, stood the thing that had attracted Picketwire to the canyon in the first place. A great stone door carved into the stone, covered with elaborate designs that were outside of the technological capabilities of the tribes native to the region. Unlike the pictographs, it was utterly untouched - except for an opening only a few inches wide.

Picketwire had come closer to opening the crypt than any other attempt - and she had paid dearly for it, the magic protecting the place immediately striking her dead and leaving her soul to wander the desert, alone and cursed.

At least, alone until she found Garmites.

She stepped forward, walking on nothing, floating just above the ground, to join the workers. She looked at the slab - she and Garmites had dismantled the table it was attached to - and studied the patterns painted on its surface. There was the back half of a huge lizard on one of its edges, the image almost a foot long. The slab had been cut into a rectangular shape, so there was no way she could find the exact spot it came from, but with luck, she might find the rest of the pattern.

She stepped back, gazing up at the wall, carefully studying each empty spot where a piece had been broken off.

It took her nearly ten minutes, but she finally spotted the front half of a large lizard. It was on the opposite side of the one on the slab and its legs angled down as opposed to the upward angle the back half. But by tilting her head and thinking, Picketwire figured that the slab simply needed to be turned one hundred and eighty degrees clockwise. She instructed the workers to turn the stone piece over, then guided them to the correct spot.

It took some effort to get the piece into place, as the empty spot was about four feet off the ground, and both Picketwire and Garmites pitched in to lift it up. They group managed to prop it up about where it was supposed to go, like a giant puzzle piece.

Picketwire stood back, looking up at the wall. Then, there was a feeling inside of her. Like something had clicked into place. Like a piece of herself that she didn't even know was missing at been restored.

"Are you alright?" Garmites asked, concerned at the strange look that had come over her face.

Was she alright? She felt somehow slightly more complete, but at the same time she felt a great pull. It was as if someone was trying to drag her towards the crypt's door.

"I have to go inside," she murmured, more to herself than to Garmites.

He looked at the door, furrowing his brow.

"Do you want me to come with you?"

"What?" She had only barely heard him. She felt suddenly like she was underwater. Everything was hard to hear.

"Do you want me to come with you, into that thing?" He repeated.

She thought for a moment. "No. I don't want both of us being killed."

"But you'll try again, despite what happened the first time?"

He had a point, she supposed. And yet…

"I feel like it'll be different this time. Because I'm already dead."

She had kept her eyes on the crack in the door throughout the entire conversation. Garmites caught her by the arm but still she didn't look at him.

"Just be careful," he said.

She nodded, but she hadn't been listening. She pulled her arm away and stepped towards the door. She'd been drifting closer to it without walking since the stone had been put in its place.

She reached the door and placed a hand on the smooth stone surface. When last she had tried to open the crypt, the door had felt like it weighed several tons, and had taken a great deal of force to open even a crack. This time, it yielded instantly to her hand, swinging open like a well-oiled gate.

Inside, the crypt was pitch black. But as she entered, she saw the walls as clear as day. A long, vaulted hallway stretched before her. Every few feet, there was a niche carved into the wall on either side, and in each niche sat matching skulls. The first she passed held small animal skulls; what looked like a bird, a lizard, a rabbit. The animals got bigger in size as she walked forward. A lynx, a coyote, a deer, an elk.

And finally, at the far end of the hallway, two human skulls sat, one on either side of the hall.

Here, the hallway dropped off into a sloping pathway with a much lower ceiling. The pathway was narrow, enough to make her feel claustrophobic, despite her work usually taking her into small burial chambers. Still, she headed down, down into the depths of the crypt. The pathway snaked along with many sharp turns, and then finally opened back up.

The burial chamber of the crypt was a gigantic room, no doubt a natural cave that had been shaped by workers into a smooth-walled chamber. In the center of the room sat a huge stone sarcophagus. Picketwire approached it, to find that it had been carved out of a rock formation native to the room itself, as it was attached to the floor with no sign of nails or adhesive.

The lid of the sarcophagus had been opened slightly. Picketwire grasped the heavy stone and pushed it aside without any hesitation.

The sarcophagus was empty, save for a fine coating of dust. Frustrated, Picketwire stepped back and looked at her surroundings. The walls, she saw, were decorated with paintings of a style far different from the pictographs outside. These images were more realistic and more delicate, depicting life scenes of some ancient civilization. She spotted what looked like pictures of people farming, of people writing, of people playing instruments.

But all of this was overshadowed by a massive painting in the center of one wall that stretched from floor to ceiling. It was an image of a feminine figure with six arms. Each one of her hands held a sword. On the top of her head were huge sickle-shaped horns.

A name came unbidden into Picketwire's mind.

Nelan.

* * *

"Her name is Nelan," Castlerock said over the discussion.

All eyes turned to him. RedRock stopped what he had been saying, which had been a rundown of the creatures of myth he knew about, none of which had matched the description of the thing that had attacked Glyph.

"What?" Magdalena asked, breaking the confused silence.

"The creature in the dust. Her name is Nelan."

"How do you know that?" RedRock asked. He did not hide the slight annoyance he felt at being talked over when he was, in fact, the most well-versed in the tribe's history.

"The spirits told me. They say she is also a spirit, but one far older than any of them. She is a patron of dust, and of battle."

"Your spirits -- do they know what she wants?" Magdalena asked. Her tone was urgent; unlike the rest of the tribe, she had been around to see Elyakim's angels. She had watched as the monsters had decimated the village on the plains, had seen her husband die at their hands. She had watched as they almost killed the Rockbreaker cult. She alone of the tribe knew the dangers that came from the magic that touched the region.

"They said she was put to sleep long, long ago -- before the history of any of the current tribes of the region began. She was trapped, because she was such a danger to the peoples living her. Something must have awoken her."

"But what does she want, Castlerock?"

The shaman paused, closing his eyes. He seemed to be listening to something that no one else in the room could hear - which he was.

"It's hard to say. They keep talking over each other -- I think they're afraid of her. But," he opened his eyes, "the one thing they've all said is that if we cannot defeat her in battle, we're all dead."

[queenofmoons67]

Write Your Letters in the Sand

Summary: Eighteen year old Dean Winchester, his father, and his younger brother get a surprise when an older version of Sam appears in their motel room. Then he disappears, and an older version than the last appears. And it keeps repeating, over and over again, and their glimpses into the future show no sign of stopping. Not your usual time travel fic.

Note: I've read a few SPN time travel fics where multiple Sams go back in time, showing his and Dean's past selves and his father how he changes through the years. I can't remember who wrote them, but thank you to the writers for giving me the inspiration for this (and the motivation, considering none of them ever got past a few chapters).

The title of the story comes from Queen's song "'39".

Chapter One: Stanford Sam, Pre-Series

"Samuel Winchester!" The shout rang through the area, carrying to the short fourteen year old marching angrily across the street from the open motel door. "You get your butt back here right now! If you don't, I swear I'll -"

"You'll what?" the boy spun around, his I'm-so-mad-at-you-I'm-ignoring-you-for-the-rest-of-my-life stance finally breaking. "You won't let me play in the big game on Saturday? Oh wait!" The hysterical laugh almost made John flinch, but he stood strong. "You already are! And why?! Because we're leaving! For the fourth time in two months!"

"Sam…" the father's voice was softer, his hands out in apology. He knew when to retreat in battle so that winning the war was still possible, and now was one of those times. "I'm sorry, son, I really am. I know how much this meant to you, but -"

"MEANS!" the screamed word reverberated in John's ear. "Means, Dad, because it's not like the moment you said we wouldn't be here I stopped caring about it!"

John narrowed his eyes and straightened his shoulders, preparing himself for a bigger fight. It looked like retreat was no longer an option. He watched his youngest son square himself, fully prepared to face the charging bull. He opened his mouth, but he didn't get a single sound out before a loud crashed echoed behind him. At once, and in what was an almost eerily similar way, John and Sam abandoned their fight in favor of investigating the noise.

"Dean," the father called out, knocking on the door he had slammed shut in an attempt to rid himself of some anger. "Dean, are you alright in there? What happened?"

Rolling his eyes, Sam pushed his elder out of the way even as he pulled a key from his pocket. "Honestly," he muttered, and then stared angrily at John's back as the man stepped protectively in front of his son. "Dad," he complained.

"Stop it," John turned around long enough to glare and snatch the key. "We don't know what's going on, so I'll go first."

Sam huffed, then peered around his dad and stepped through the now open doorway, past his older brother standing with one hand still on the knob. "Thanks Dean," he said cheerfully. "So, what..." The younger brother stared in shock.

"What?" John questioned, trying to look around the tall figure of his oldest. He didn't have to wait long, as Dean hurried to Sam's side and poked him.

"Easy there shrimp," Dean joked. "You can put the knife away. I don't think he's a danger."

"What?" Sam tore his gaze from the gigantic man lying on the bed he shared with his brother. Said brother cocked an eyebrow, reached out, grabbed Sam's right wrist, and pulled it up to show the knife clenched between white knuckles. "Oh," Sam said numbly, staring at it. He hadn't even realized his reflexes had automatically taken it out of his boot sheathe.

"What happened, Dean?" their father demanded, closing the door and stepping further into the room than his boys were, carefully making sure he was between them and the stranger.

Dean shrugged, but his frown belied his easy stance. "One minute I'm alone, the next Bigfoot over there is standing next to the table. Or, well, sitting in a nonexistent chair. He fell back, hit his head on the table. Knocked himself unconscious, so I dragged him over to the bed."

"And?" John asked, testy with an unknown factor in the supposed-to-be-safe motel room.

Dean shrugged again. "Didn't have time to test him. But… Dad… I think he's a hunter. He looks familiar, and not only that, I found an iron knife and a gun with silver bullets on him."

Sam frowned, studying the puzzle, and Dean coughed to disguise a laugh as their dad did the same thing. "Get the rope, Sam," John ordered. "I want him secure in a chair when he wakes up."

Under normal circumstances, Sam would have argued. But these weren't normal circumstances.

Sam woke up to the bite of a knife in his forearm and a throbbing head. He groaned, and tried to remember what had happened. He had been studying… and then suddenly his chair was gone and his brother was there… except he somehow looked younger… and… and… he was missing something… "Jess!" Sam cried, eyes shooting open and lurching to his feet. Or at least, he would've, if he wasn't apparently tied to a chair. "Ugh… Dean…" he groaned. "Dean, this isn't funny." Sam paused, trying to understand where he was, and in that moment he could have sworn the temperature plummeted twenty degrees. Then he got a face full of liquid - probably holy water, he thought fuzzily, but why was he being tested? - and promptly turned his attention elsewhere. Specifically, the gruff familiar voice barking in his ear.

"You don't talk to him, you talk to me. Now," a callused hand grabbed his face roughly, pinching his cheeks and tipping his chin up, "how do you know his name?"

"Wha-…" Sam blinked blearily, trying to get the holy water out of his eyes. "Dad? Wha… what are you talking about?" He finally succeeded in clearing his vision and stared up at his dad. Standing right behind John was his brother. "De?" he questioned, trying to hide his embarrassment that in what was apparently a concussed state, combined with confusion and now a little bit of fear, his tongue automatically reverted the call to a childhood nickname. "De… when did you get so short? And…" he started to shake his head, then stopped as a spike drove through his scull. "Dad… where'd…" Sam coughed, trying to clear his dry throat. "Where'd that scar go? The… the new one… though I guess it's not so new anymore."

"Dad?" A new voice spoke, one that sounded vaguely familiar to Sam. "What do you mean, 'dad'?" A teenage boy, shorter than Dean and definitely familiar, moved into Sam's line of sight while ignoring John's glare.

"Wha…" Sam blinked, trying to get his mind cranking again. "What?"

"What?" John snapped, turning his gaze back to Sam. "And answer the question. Why are you calling me 'dad'? I only have two sons, and you aren't one of them."

Sam flinched. He couldn't help it. If you walk out that door, don't you ever come back! He had tried his hardest to forget those words, to ignore them, to shove them behind a wall in his head and never hear them again, but it hadn't worked. And now… he suspected what had happened, as unbelievable as it was, but even that knowledge couldn't soften the blow. "But I am," Sam said quietly, so quietly that the other three in the room had to lean forward to hear it. "As crazy as it sounds, I think I time traveled. I think I'm in the past, which means that I'm from the future." At least, Sam thought to himself as he watched the faces in front of him stare at him in shock, the emotional blow had temporarily overcome the pain of the concussion.

"He's lying," Dean said, letting the words out as soon as they reached the opposite side of the motel room of the 'time traveler.' "Time travel doesn't exist, and if he's telling the truth…" If he's telling the truth, then Dean has been watching his little brother suffer, completely capable of helping and choosing not to.

"But that's exactly why he's telling the truth," Sam argued. "Why would he claim he time traveled if he didn't? Nobody would ever believe him."

John hmmed under his breath. Both his boys had good points, but… "There's only one way to know for sure," he decided, and marched back over, steeling himself on the way. He understood where Dean was coming from. If this person was telling the truth, then John has not only been watching his baby suffer, but also adding to his pain. Then John has slid a knife across his son's flesh without an ounce of hesitation or regret. Then John has denounced his baby in the harshest way possible.

Shaking his head to rid himself of the thoughts, John stopped in front of the stranger. Sam. The man. His son. Resisting the urge to shake his head again to clear the confusion, John squatted in front of… the person. "If you are who you say you are," he began softly, carefully keeping his temper out of his voice, "Then tell me something only the real Sam would know."

Sam squinted at his father, doing his best to school his face through the concussion and keep his surprise to himself. Of course his dad was willing to hear him out, to be gentle. His youngest son hadn't dealt him the Betrayal yet. But what… "Umm…" Sam muttered. "Uh… what would…" His eyes squinted more, trying to concentrate.

Dean flinched as the man before him had to focus so much it showed outwardly. If this was truly Sammy… his little brother… he could barely entertain the thought.

"My twelfth birthday!" the tall man blurted, drawing Dean's attention back to him. "You," he looked at Dean, "gave me a new hunting knife. With my initials carved into it. But I opened the box too eagerly, and brought it out too quickly, and it slipped and gave me this scar." He wriggled his right pinky finger where Dean, when he leaned in close, could see a thin white scar identical to Sammy's. Dean nodded to his dad, unsure how to face the realization that this was actually his younger brother, and then paused and barely resisted a groan as John gave him a look that clearly stated, "We're going to talk about this later."

Sam blinked as his young self glared at him and Dean almost groaned, before groaning to himself. Right. They had been keeping that a secret from their dad, since he hadn't been there. Oops. He guessed the concussion was worse than he thought, if he was spilling stuff like that. But wait… if he was in the past, then... "Jess!" he cried out again, eyes widening. What had happened to his girlfriend? She had been with him, and now she was gone. Was she in the future still? Somewhere in the past? Was she ok? What if something worse had happened to her?

"Sam?" John asked, brow furrowing as his son was unresponsive. He had been startled at the sudden shout - who was 'Jess'? - but worry trumped that when Sam suddenly just stared past him. Was it the concussion? He glanced at Dean as his eldest moved forward, squatting down beside the time traveler.

"Sammy?" Dean inquired, worry clear in his voice.

"Sam?" The younger version asked, obviously concerned for his future-self. "Who's Jess?"

John, fingers touching the rope to begin untying the man at the same time his youngest son spoke the name, startled as Sam suddenly came back to them.

"She's my girlfriend." The three words were said so matter-of-factly that, had they still thought Sam was lying about everything else, John would have believed this. "I… I'm going to propose soon." And those five words automatically halted all thought processes in John's brain. Or at least, they did until his son disappeared from right in front of him.

"What the-!" Dean shouted, pivoting on his heels and nearly loosing his balance as he looked around wildly. "Where did he go?"

"I think the better questions are," the remaining Sam pointed out, "Why and how did he come, and why did he return to the future?"

"Maybe we changed something?" John wondered.

"And did he even go back to his own time?" Dean added. "What if he went further back? We don't remember it, so if he did he didn't return to us. Or he went back to before we existed."

"All of this is making my head hurt," John grumbled.

"Your head?" Sammy exclaimed. "I'm the one who's proposing!"

"Yeah, and-" Dean started, only to halt and stare as a bright light shone in one corner of the room.

"Dean?" John questioned, looking from his eldest to the light and back again.

"That's what happened when future Sammy appeared," Dean told him anxiously.

They all stared at the light, but none of them were prepared for what happened next.

Note: You can find the rest of this fic (it’s currently at 30 out of 36 chapters) on AO3.

[yaytobio]

We Could’ve Been

Oikage Week Day 1 - Fantasy AU

I love theses dorks so much they deserve so much more attention!

SUMARRY:  Then, on our way home, the weirdest thing happened.

Oikawa tells a story about a journey that changed many lives, including Kageyama’s.

Chapter 1

So me and Iwa-chan were pretty happy, in fact, the whole of Aoba Johsai was ‘because we just won our game against Karasuno 2-0, they couldn’t even get one set. I finally got to show that prick Tobio who the boss was. And to be honest, I think Karasuno were also happy about the game, losing was probably the only thing that could’ve shown Tobio that he wasn’t all that, that what he was doing wasn’t right as a setter. Even though the idiot had the skills, all he ever did was show them off, he only did attacks that relied on his skills and I could tell Chibi-chan was losing it.

Anyway, he lost, we’re happy, so we went to this local ramen shop to celebrate and we even saw some Karasuno members there as well. The shop gave us free drinks and we had a little party and all was well.

Then, on our way home, the weirdest thing happened.

It was just me and Iwa-chan on that street then suddenly, everything went black, completely black. I couldn’t even see myself when I held my hands up and I started calling for Iwa-chan. I was confused and kind of scared, I think he heard me because he started calling back and we were both shouting out to each other. The darkness wasn’t going away. Then it felt like we were falling, and I was screaming with my eyes tightly shut. Then next thing I know, I land on some grass in what looked like a massive field. And Iwa-chan was there as well, we were both quiet for a really long time after that, until Iwa-chan punched me in the face!

It hurt like hell and I started yelling at him but then I shut up when he asked me if I had woken up. It was a dumb question but I got what he meant, I always do. But still, he could’ve just pinched me. After that, we were just walking and talking, we did both just as much as each other, the field was going for hours and we were so confused. But we had established that everything was too real for it to be a dream, and we weren’t drunk. It must’ve three hours of walking including two breaks until the scenery changed a bit. Cobble streets and sign saying Dateko. We were kind of surprised to see a name we recognise and carried on walking. When we got there, we saw that it was like a town, but all medieval-looking. There were tall buildings all made of stone and even a well in the centre.

Eventually we found someone who we recognised. It was those two tall middle blockers from Dateko. They were wearing weird costumes, like suits of armour or something and each of them had this big shield thingy. When we asked them where we were, they gave us funny looks and the brown-haired guy was probably going to say something shitty, but then the no-eyebrows guy eyed him intently. Then the brown-haired guy said that we were in the kingdom of Dateko, where the greatest materials have been discovered by its people and they showed us this huge iron wall. They said they were the first people to discover iron and made a wall to show off their superiority.

After that, me and Iwa-chan had a talk. A serious one. Because I had sort of figured out what was going on. We were in an alternative universe. There was no other explanation for it. That’s why the same people were here but all different. At least, they seemed to be the same people, I mean, no-eyebrows guy didn’t talk at all. Iwa-chan couldn’t believe and neither could I to be honest. Then I suggested asking about Aoba Johsai, if the insignificant Dateko is here then surely we must be here as well. So we did, and they pointed off to the west, ‘past the desert’ they said. And I was like, ‘great’, because we haven’t done enough walking already. But we set off anyway.

I remember during our long expedition, something came to me. And I started panicking, going on about how the hell we were supposed to get out of here and what the hell’s going on back in the other universe. Then Iwa-chan grabbed me and slapped me across my face and told me to ‘calm the fuck down’. He can be so overdramatic sometimes. He started saying that I was just hungry but I could tell it all began sinking in for him as well.  We walked for ages in the sand and were actually getting pretty hungry. It wasn’t that hot thank goodness but my feet were aching.

We ended up taking a break and that’s when we saw more people. People from Karasuno, you could tell by their ugly orange clothes, and I think I grimaced out of habit but Iwa-chan was pretty happy to see them. When we got closer, we saw that it was their ace and libero, and they were wearing bizarre costumes as well. The bearded guy had on clunky armour and with him a gigantic sword and their libero had all sorts of jars and ointments and general first aid stuff from the looks of it. And they had food. The ace spotted us ogling and offered us a ride to their place. They were in a carriage after all.

Iwa-chan said yes before I even thought about where we were going. But I didn’t complain. I was really tired. The ride was short and we made it to a camp site. And of course, we were greeted by all those other Karasuno lot. I think the whole team was there, except that I didn’t see their coach, captain and Tobio. And honestly I thought that was a good thing. If everyone here is the same person, then I’d rather walk that desert fifty times no breaks than see that bastard Tobio. Iwa-chan gave me a look like he just read my thoughts but he didn’t tell me off. He probably thinks the same.

So we were given food and Refreshing-kun, who was dressed as some sort of a wizard asked us where we were from. We didn’t know how to answer so it was lucky for us that the managers’ arrival cut our conversation short. He didn’t ask afterwards but I got the feeling there were still things on his mind. In fact, they were all side-glancing us like we were walking around headless or something. I told Iwa-chan that maybe they didn’t have manners in this universe but he was spacing out and didn’t hear me. Iwa-chan has his own ways with dealing with shit.

After dinner, we were planning on heading out again but that’s when the captain showed up wearing fancy-as-fuck clothes and told us to we should rest here before leaving. It was only then that I realised how dark it was. We said alright and got our own tent. Just when we were getting comfortable, I heard familiar voices from outside our tent and reckoned they belonged to Chibi-chan and Glasses guy. But actually, three of them came, Pinch Server was with them as well. They wanted to ask us more, like we were from and what we were. I didn’t know what to say to both of those questions until Iwa-chan bailed me out with the ‘sorry-we’re-really-tired’ excuse.

But although I couldn’t answer their questions, I wanted them to answer some of mine. Who were they, as in, what were they? And what’s their Karasuno kingdom like? I felt like such an idiot asking such a stupid and freaky question but it seemed genuine to them. And the answer was actually not what I was expecting, Chibi-chan was talking the most and said he was a knight, while Glasses guy was a guard, and Pinch Server was a reserve warrior. I came to the conclusion that in this universe, everyone here has a status, captains are kings, setters are wizards, liberos must be healers and spikers are knights.

Then they continued talking, well, more like boasting, about their kingdom getting better and growing. ‘We’ll never be called the fallen crows again!’ or something along the lines of that is what Chibi-chan had declared. He was going to carry on rambling but Iwa-chan yawned and Pinch Server led them out. ‘Way to make it obvious’ I told Iwa-chan but he said that he actually was tired and told me to shut up. Then after that, we went to sleep.

[anoutlandishfanfic]

Chapter 13: In the Lion’s Den

Premise: What if Claire had conceived on her wedding night?

You can read previous chapters here.

October 19th, 1743; Cranesmuir, Scotland

Rough hands shoved me into the gaping hole in the ground and squarely on top of Geillis. I rolled off her with a groan, glaring at the iron grate that was now being lowered and locked above us with a deafening clang. My entire body ached from impact and I was sure to have quite the bruise come morning where my head had collided with Geillis’.

“Are you alright?” I gasped as I tried to regain the breath knocked from my lungs. I couldn't make out her grumblings, but took the response as a sign that I hadn't injured her significantly. “Where are we?”

She moved to sit on a rocky outcropping, wiping the mud from her hands and face, “A thieves hole.”

“Are we alone?” I inquired, cautiously examining the deep shadows of the pit.

“Oh, aye,” she spat, “with the exception of a few rats, I suppose.”

I scrambled to my feet, ignoring the throbbing of my hip, just as a large, dark shape scurried past. Suppressing a cry of alarm, I crawled onto the rock beside Geillis and tried to pull my feet up after me. The action set me off balance, sending me over backwards and onto the ground once more.

Searing pain surged through my left hip, into my lower back, and up my side as I lay in the mud. My chest tightened, both from whatever injury I had sustained from the fall and the realization of what such a jarring impact could potentially have triggered within me.

No.

I lay completely still in the mud and leaves as I desperately tried to isolate the subtle movements within me from my spasming muscles. I held my breath, becoming hypersensitive to every twitch and twinge of irregularity.

No, no, no.

I willed them to move, to show me that my fears were unfounded. My heart plummeted deeper with every moment of stillness and my head began to spin.

Oh God, no.

My soul flung wide its arms, reaching, grasping to take hold of the lives within the quiet darkness of my womb and keep them there. With trembling hands, I gently moved through familiar motions, prompting, pleading them to respond as they usually did in slow, stretching movements.

Please.

I could hear Geillis speaking to me, but her words lacked any form of meaning, the sounds jumbling and swirling above my head as her face swam into view. She pulled me into a seated position and I cried out with the force of a new wave of cramping.

God, please!

…

I was unbearably cold. My hands and feet were numb, they had been for hours. I lay shivering in the mud as the dark, dense fog of slumber began to overtake me. It cradled me in its icy embrace, offering me respite in exchange for my sorrows, but I soon found that sleep was not a fair master.

The aching pain in my hip and back disappeared as I drifted off, leaving in its stead a sort of hollow feeling, as though I had been gutted like a butchered pig. Everything around me melted away into an endless, black expanse where my every fear swirled around me with the force of a hurricane. A voice, authoritative and unknown, called out to me from the wind.

“This is all your fault.”

It repeated itself, over and over and over, each iteration holding more scorn and derision than the last. I tried to cover my ears against the venomous words, but found I couldn't move. Strong bonds pinned my arms to my sides, lashing my body to something solid and unforgiving.

“You've brought this upon yourself.”

Jamie had warned me not to leave Leoch, of the dangers of being seen with Geillis Duncan, but I had soundly ignored him and fallen headlong into Laoghaire’s trap instead.

“They’re dead because of you.”

“No!” I sobbed, wanting desperately for my refutation to make it to be true, while knowing full well that it couldn't. My cramping hadn't ceased in the hours since I’d fallen. In fact, the steady, knifing sensation had only spread.

“It's only a matter of time, Claire.”

With this taunt, the void around me began to glow with an eerie, sickeningly green light.

“Give them to me,” the voice coaxed, becoming sugary sweet.

I choked as the air turned noxious and a dark shape began to move out from the shadows. The green glow illuminated its edges, giving it a razor sharp silhouette as it loomed above me. My bonds became clear as the thing moved closer. They were vines, thousands of them, running from me to the menacing creature and back again. Hundreds of arms, each with a dexterous hand, slid out of the black oblivion and grabbed onto me.

I managed to croak out “let me go” before one clamped over my mouth. I chomped down hard and it's finger snapped off between my teeth. Gagging, I spit out the sudden mouthful as the beast cursed me in its own language.

A beam of light cut through the gloom, and with it came Jamie's voice.

“Claire?”

Not Sassenach, his friend. Not mo nighean donn, his brown haired lass. He had called out for Claire… his wife, his lover, the mother of his children.

The beast’s hold of me tightened even more, suffocating me as Jamie's beam of light allowed me see even more of the many-armed monster who had ensnared me. I would have gasped, had I been able to breathe, as I realized what it was.

It was a tree.

Somehow alive and talking, it used its branches as arms. The hand I had bitten slapped me hard across the face and I caught the gleam of steel slicing through the air as my head snapped to the side. With a sickening crack, the arm dropped to the platform. It landed at my feet and I kicked it away as I strained against the branches, which were now beginning to give.

“Release her!” Jamie bellowed above the sound of another branch being severed.

The voice, which I now knew to be this thing, snarled back, “She's a witch.”

“I dinna care,” he responded as he pulled himself onto the platform, positioning himself between the gigantic trunk of the tree and me. “I made a vow before God and man to protect her!”

“I am neither God nor man,” it sneered.

No, you're a bloody fucking tree.

Jamie pointed the tip of his sword at what we both assumed was the heart of the beast. He lunged forward, shoving it into its rough bark. I screamed as another branch came out of nowhere and wrapped around his neck. His feet kicked empty air as it lifted him off the platform, dangling him above my head as he choked.

“What do you want?” I cried, “Whatever it is, you can have it!”

“You know what I want,” it sneered as it released me.

A vicious contraction tore through my abdomen, its intentions all too clear.

“If you give them to me, they'll live forever with the fairies.”

Visions of the changeling child, blue and pallid in my arms, began to clear the fog around my head. The contraction eased and I swallowed hard, trying to think clearly.

I realized in a flash that Jamie's feet were roughly at the level of my shoulders. Surging forwards, I pushed hard against the bottoms of his feet, guiding them to a place of leverage. I heard him gasp for air, coughing as he stood atop my shoulders.

“Dinna - give - it - anything,” he panted as he slowly regained the ability to breathe normally. “I will - live on - through the bairns - ye carry.”

The reality that I could very well loose all three of them in the same moment prompted me to ask of the tree, “How? How do I do it?”

“Claire!”

I pinched his ankles firmly, hissing, “This is my decision!”

A single branch slowly wrapped about my waist, just above my protruding bump, as the beast lifted Jamie from my shoulders and placed him next to me. He instantly tried to pry me free the moment the thing released him, but I stopped his hands with mine.

Turning my face away from him and to the tree, I begged, “Promise me they will be safe.”

It didn't answer.

Instead, in a small crook of the branch that held me, a nest began to form. Interlocking loops of vine created the shallow sides as a leafy dome sprouted to cover the top. Everything was still for a moment; the branches, the foliage, the very air waited in anticipation for what would be revealed.

A child’s laugh wafted through the canopy over the top of the nest, making the leaves tremble in excitement. I reached out my hand and softly traced the edge of one. Jamie moved closer, outstretching his hand to do the same. The moment his finger touched one, they all fell away in a soft woosh, exposing two small children.

The toddlers sat cross legged, side by side. Two sets of big blue eyes, Jamie's eyes, blinked back at me in curiosity. I opened up my arms and they scrambled to their feet, laughing as they ran to me.

“There's bread, Claire,” Geillis’ hand on my shoulder yanked me from my dream, sending consciousness to attack me with the strength of a dozen men. A strangled cry escaped my lips as my children vanished into the shadows of the thieves hole, my hopes with them.

Food was the last thing I wanted right now.

“Not hungry?” My cellmate studied me carefully as she retracted the proffered moldy bannock. Closing my eyes, I tried to block out the world around me and return to my children’s embrace. I was nearly there when Geillis sighed, asking out of the blue, “Do ye love him, then?”

I neither acknowledged her question nor opened my eyes until she shook me again.

“I ken you're awake,” she pressed. “Really love him, I mean. More than just wanting to bed him, for I ken ye want that and he does too. They all do.”

Did I? Beyond the urges of the flesh?

“He’s the father of my child,” I answered flatly, even though she knew I was precariously perched on the edge of a miscarriage.

Geillis flippantly waved my words away, adding “Tis his name ye call out in your sleep.”

“I didn't know I did that.”

“Well, do ye?” I knew she wouldn’t let the subject drop until I’d answered her.

Jamie’s face swam into view, not looking like he had in my dream, but as he had at the time of our parting. The rising sun had lit his auburn curls aflame, there in the courtyard. Our warm breath puffed around us in the cold air as we said our goodbyes. I'd looked into his eyes, telling him to hurry back, before he'd kissed me one last time.

“Yes,” My entire body trembled with this revelation as I turned away from her in the dark.

[kprciffdw]

Kim Possible: The Extremely Secret Files-Part 18

They took a long flight all the way to the next planet: Gorn. As soon as they arrived, they were attacked by many Thugs-4-Less ships. Clank: "I am detecting Thugs-4-Less ships a one o'clock." Ron: "I'm detecting Thugs-4-Less ships at Everywhere o'clock!" Ratchet: "It's payback time!" Kim: "I'll take the second controls."

And with that, they battled against the Thugs-4-Less fleet at their base. There were small fighter ships as well as large cargo ships. The fighters were tough to hit and the cargo ships were very difficult to bring down but Ratchet and Kim managed to bring down every last ship with their phenomenal teamwork.

The entire base was eventually cleared out. Kim: "Yes! We did it, Ratchet!" Ratchet: "Yeah! Good work, Kimberly, but it looks like the Thugs moved Angela out of this quadrant." Kim: "But where could they have taken her?" Ratchet: "I don't know, but see if you can pick up any transmissions on the deep space channel." Kim: "OK."

She checked on the receiver. Kim: "Hold on! I think I've found something."

The transmission was the Thug leader complaining about Ratchet and the group getting in the way of his company's work and threatened them to leave him alone. He seemed to have also been able to pick up on each of their names, except for Ron's. Kim: "Yeesh, even his threats sound stupid." Ron: "Oh, come on! Doesn't anyone around here know my name!?" Clank: "Does he not realize that he just transmitted his exact location?" Kim: "It wouldn't surprise me even the least bit. As always, his actions are as dumb as him." Ratchet: "Well, if he didn't realize it, then he's about to find out." Kim: "Bringing the fight to him now, are we? Now, we're talking!"

They left the planet and made their way to the next destination.

It was a long flight, but they were able to make it to the next planet: Snivelak. There, they arrived near the Thugs-4-Less headquarters. They landed and got out of the ship. They gave themselves a brief period of time to look around the entire area. Ron: "Oh…this place seems…kind of ruddy. Could this be the home planet of those Thugs-4-Less guys?" Kim: "I would think so. It is absolutely dreadful, so it does suit them quite well." Ratchet: "Come on, guys. We have to find Angela." Kim: "Yes, let's go."

They rushed off as quickly as they could.

They kept on going until they stopped in front of a massive obstruction. Kim: "Hm…looks like we've hit a roadblock." Ron: "And a massive one at that." Clank: "It appears to be a fortified gate of sorts." Ron: "So…how do we get passed it?" Kim: "Hm…"

Kim pulled out the Kimmunicator. Kim: "Wade. We arrived on what we believe is the home planet of the Thugs-4-Less. We have come across a massive gate. Do you know how we can get it open?" Wade: "Let me check."

Wade typed on his computer for a bit. Wade: "Hm…from what I can see here, there are 2 switches that can deactivate this gate, unfortunately, they're both on the other side. You'll need to find another way around it." Ratchet: "Hm…"

He had a chance to look around then became elated at what appeared to be an obstacle course of some sorts. He nudged Kim on her arm with his elbow. Ratchet: "Hey, Kimberly, look at this!"

Kim turned around and looked at exactly what he was seeing; she also seemed elated to see this. Ratchet: "So how about it, you up for going along that with me to reach the other side?" Kim: "Are you kidding me? Stuff like that is what I live for." Ratchet: "OK, then, let's go."

They rushed out together towards the obstacle course looking area. Ron and Clank stood on the sidelines and watched. Kim and Ratchet maneuvered themselves through the entire course. Sometimes, they would help each other out, other times, they would use other things around them to help them maneuver through. There were plenty of obstacles in their way such as enemies or even not being able to see a clear path ahead of them, but they always managed to find a way to get where they needed to be and they always counted on each other whenever they need to. Their performances while maneuvering to the other side were indeed very breathtaking; Ron and Clank could not keep their eyes off of them.

They were eventually able to make it to the other side and flipped the 2 switches to deactivate the gate. Ron and Clank were able to rush through and regroup with them. Ron: "KP! Ratchet! That was amazing!" Clank: "Yes, I have to admit those were spectacular maneuvers that you both carried out." Ratchet: "You really think so?" Ron: "Well, duh! Of course! You're both amazing!" Kim: "Oh, stop it, you guys; it was nothing." Ratchet: "Yeah, so not the…drama?"

Kim nodded. Ratchet smiled. Ratchet: "Come on, Angela can't be too far now."

They rushed off into a large metropolis.

The second that they entered the city, they were bombarded by another obstacle: a massive hoard of Thugs-4-Less goons. Ron: "Aw, man! Not these guys again!" Kim: "Well what did you expect? We are on their territory, after all."

Ratchet pulled out his guns and readied himself for another tough fight. Ratchet: "Let's do this!"

They rushed out toward the hoard and fought against all of them. Ron, however, stood by, quivering in fear. It was a tough and very, very extensive fight. With one hoard defeated, they ran into another and another and, of course, another. It seemed as though a few times, they wouldn't make it, but they really held their own during one battle after another.

At one point during the fights, Kim pulled out the Kimmunicator. Kim: "Wade, can you track where Angela could be?" Wade: "Hm…I'm picking up life signs of another Lombax in the middle of that metropolis. That should be Angela." Ratchet: "I agree. Let's go." Wade: "But, I'm also receiving a signal of something incredibly massive that is very, very close to this life sign. Proceed with caution, you guys; even I don't know what this is."

They kept persisting on with Ron eventually following behind. When they were able to reach the middle of the city, they were startled with what they found: an incredibly, gigantic robot mech. The Thug leader stood on its shoulder, laughing maniacally. Angela was trapped within a cage in its chest. Ratchet: "Whoa! Wade wasn't kidding when he mentioned that there's something incredibly massive; that this is gigantic!" Ron: "Um…how are we supposed to fight that?" Kim: "I've taken down massive robots before, but this is a colossal challenge in more ways than one!" Ratchet: "Let's bring it down!"

Kim, Ratchet and Clank readied themselves for an extremely tough challenge of massive proportions. Ron just ran and hid in a corner somewhere nearby. It was a very, very tough challenge that started off rough but as the fight persisted on, they were able to hold their own. The Thug leader gave out a lot of smack talk as he made many attempts to bombard them during the fight.

With some ingenuity, a lot of quick thinking and resourcefulness, they were able to bring down the massive mech and defeat the Thug leader. Ratchet: "Whew, you OK, Clank?"

Clank nodded once. Ratchet: "How about you, Kimberly?" Kim: "Of course. Were there really any doubts?"

Ratchet smiled at her, he then made a displeased look on his face as he turned his head and looked towards a particular direction. Ratchet: "You can come out now, Ron. The giant robot battle of doom is over."

Ron peered out of where he was hiding and timidly rejoined that the others who were annoyed at him. Ratchet: "Let's get out of here, guys."

He was about to walk off, but Kim grabbed him by his arm. Kim: "Uh, Ratchet?" Ratchet: "What?" Angela: "Ahem."

He then looked towards Angela along with Kim. Angela: "Aren't you forgetting someone?"

Kim gave Ratchet an annoyed look, he looked back at her with a nervous grin. Ratchet: "Uh, oops! After we…free Angela…of course."

With one shot of his pulse rifle, he broke the bars from the cage, releasing her. She then jumped down towards them. Angela: "Thanks. Now, before you run off, take a look at this."

She pulled out another monitor. Angela: "I picked it out of Lizard-boy's pocket."

On the monitor was a log entry that was recorded by the Thug leader. He mentioned that a Megacorp Distribution Center contained millions of crates; all of them containing massive amounts of Protopets that were about to be shipped out. Suddenly, the Kimmunicator went off again. Kim pulled it out. Wade: "Kim, I was doing a scan of those crates that were displayed on that footage. The readings indicate that what that Thug leader was saying was all too accurate, uh...somewhat; there are millions of Protopets contained within each of those crates." Angela: "Um, who is that?" Kim: "Oh, we've never had you properly introduced to him."

Kim held the Kimmunicator in front of Angela with Wade being displayed on the monitor. Kim: "Angela, this is Wade; he provides us with useful intel for all of our missions. Wade, this is Angela." Wade: "Oh, you were that girl who took the…" Angela: "Yeah, we've already been over this, so can we just get passed that already?" Wade: "Oh, right, sorry. Anyway, I looked into the shipping logs of those crates and from what I can tell, it seems as though those crates are ready to be shipped to numerous planets in the galaxy." Ratchet: "Are they insane!?" Ron: "This is just a whole new level of sick and wrong beyond even a shred of doubt." Clank: "Quite right, Ron; the galaxy is in far more danger than any of us would have ever imagined." Kim: "And we know that Mr. Fizzwidget intends on setting off this catastrophe of monumental proportions. We should find and confront him on why…" Angela: "We've wasted enough time on Fizzwidget already. If what you said about him unleashing a catastrophe on purpose is true, then that crazy old man really hasn't been the same person that I used to work for…" Kim: "Whoa! Hold up! You use to work for Megacorp?" Angela: "Yes! In the genetics division." Ratchet: "On the Protopets?" Angela: "On fixing the Protopet's flaws!" Ron: "As in making it into not a vicious and terrifying monster that wants to eat everything?" Angela: "Exactly! And I was this close to succeeding when Fizzwidget suddenly pushed up the release date!"

Angela let out an exhausted sigh. Kim: "Whoa! You've been having it rough lately." Angela: "That would be putting it mildly." Clank: "Is it worth disrupting the Protopet shipment?" Angela: "It's a start, but to stop them for good, we're going to need to break into Megacorp headquarters." Ratchet: "Break in?" Clank: "And how do you suppose we do that?" Angela: "I just happened to have an old Megacorp ID on my home planet." Kim: "And you think we can use that to access Megacorp HQ?" Angela: "But of course; I'm pretty sure it's still valid." Ratchet: "OK, we'll head for the Distribution Center and do whatever we can there while you go grab that ID." Kim: "Best of luck to all of us; we're going to need it." Angela: "I agree." Ron: "Great, on a mission to save an entire galaxy; no pressure, right?"

Angela rushed off while Ratchet and the others head back to the ship and made their way to their next destination.