#you're never really grounded in her stories until the second read because there's not much for detail

[fictionadventurer]

In my mind, there's a platonic ideal of the traditional fairy tale retelling that takes the story seriously, follows the general outline of the fairy tale in a traditional fairy tale setting, and--most importantly--has well-rounded characters and a well-developed world that grounds us in the details of the setting. It often has romance in it, but the romance is part of the character's wider story instead of the focus.

The authors with books that fit this ideal include:

Gail Carson Levine (Ella Enchanted)

Shannon Hale (The Goose Girl)

Sarah McGuire (Valiant)

Amity Thompson (the first half of A Trial of Words and Worth)

[dduane]

The first part of that last message got me curious -- given how long-running of a series YW is, how do you keep track of All That when writing a new entry? Copious amounts of notes? Re-reading the entire series backlog? Keeping a fully-functioning simulation of the entire YW universe running in your head with perfect accuracy? (only mostly joking with that last one)

And somewhat-relatedly, did you have any plan or idea when you started for how long YW would run? Or was it more of a "I'll keep writing about this universe until it stops churning out ideas," type of thing and that point just (very thankfully!) hasn't happened yet? I know for per-book purposes you're a proponent of outlining (I swear I'll try writing to one one day Q_Q) but do you also apply that to a series as a whole?

Let me take this backwards, as it may make more sense that way.

Particularly when doing series work, outlining is more vital than usual for me. (Which is saying a lot.) Some of the most basic reasons for this are laid out over here.

The simplest one, though, for series outlining, is logistical. Without having achieved a sense well in advance of what events (or effects of events) are going to be most formative or important (or both) for the characters in a series, you won't have allowed yourself time to think about them enough. And to fail to spend enough time on this is to cheat both yourself and the books in the series. (And your readership.)

If you're smart, you learn very early on that attempting to save time by shortchanging or omitting the planning stages is potentially profoundly destructive. You need to have a plan... and you need not to let anyone make you ashamed of needing one. Putting off your detailed character-interaction and event planning in the name of some magically occurring fit of inspiration, or theoretical bid toward creative spontaneity, will serve neither you nor your creation. You can throw "Hail Mary" passes all you like... but you'd better be damn sure there'll be someone in the end zone to receive. ...If not Herself.

...And just in case you're worried, your initial plans can be really loose! They don't have to jump out of your head full-formed like some local war goddess after somebody hits her dad in the head with an axe. The plan for the Middle Kingdoms books—after The Door Into Fire dumped me gasping by the side of the road and left me a few minutes to breathe—was nothing more than "Now that his boyfriend's finally upped the ante beyond all expectations, Freelorn finally gets off his feckless Would-Be Robin Hood shit and gets to work becoming king." I then spent the next decade thinking purposefully about how that was going to happen, and writing the second book in the series—while sufficiently working out the fine details of the climax (and beyond) to then be able to get busy executing the third book. Even though there was a change of publishers between the beginning of that series and the end of it, the basic dead-simple MK plan from a very early stage quickly became detailed and robust enough (because the series was short enough) to withstand the change. Not least because I'd been thinking about it in a general way since the early 1970s... and continue to do so, pretty much daily. The Door Into Starlight is still hanging fire...

YW has been a different story—quite literally—because the only plan extant at the start of things was, "Everybody slowly gets older (and slowly closer)." I always knew there were going to be more than the original three: there was way too much interesting ground to cover to just stop with those. (I've never yet succeeded in finding out who started the rumor that there were only going to be three books. Over time it's become one of those things you just shrug at and move on.)

(Adding a break here, because this does go on a bit. Caution: contains publishing skullduggery, plans ganging aft agley, approximate word counts, software recommendations, and value judgments.)

("Now wait just one minute. 'Feckless would-be Robin Hood shit'? Can she just say that??")

The circumstances surrounding the writing of Deep Wizardry and High Wizardry, though, made it plain to me that I was not going to be at the then-publisher (Dell) all that much longer. By the time HW came out, they were already starting to pull away from midlist books and authors in order to spend that part of the budget on best-sellers... so it became plain to me that attempting to construct a long arc with/at that publisher would have been folly. Because who could be sure what was going to happen next, and blow everything I'd built to smithereens?

Sure enough, when I finished A Wizard Abroad, Dell declined to pick it up (even though the books had been selling steadily and increasingly strongly in paperback). This annoying validation of my concerns—and my shiny new agent's—made it plain to me that further books in the series were going to need to be thematically driven, rather than mostly character-event-driven, and almost entirely capable of being taken as standalones. Any long arc was going to have to be one that could be suspended, or reworked, with little warning. Because what happens to you once, in publishing, doesn't at all mean you're immune to it after that.

It wasn't until the YW books were picked up by Harcourt in the mid-90s, with a strong editorial team behind them, that I felt confident enough to start building longer-arc material into the books, beginning with the arc that kicks off in The Wizard's Dilemma and more or less completes in Wizard's Holiday and Wizards At War. There is a secondary (and I assume, generally less obvious) arc that picks up material still unhandled in the "War Arc," and deals with it in A Wizard of Mars and Games Wizards Play. But plans for those stories' management were already nailed down in electrons as soon as 2001, because I had made some early choices about where I was going with the characters and their situations; and as new books came out, my editors agreed with me that the choices had been sound, and should remain.

I'll say this only because I've said it before: there is one piece of business planted in So You Want To Be A Wizard that has never been explicitly dealt with/followed up on in any of the books, and is at the core of YW #11. For the moment, it's safest merely to say that I do not willingly leave loose ends hanging. Beyond that, I'll leave you all to your own deductions.

...Now. How do I keep track of all this stuff? (The urge to mutter "With great difficulty" and run off into the wings is strong. But never mind.) :)

The question's fair, as there's a million-plus words' worth of it in the series at the moment. ...Mostly my guide remains the books themselves, in ebook form (in their NME versions. If I need to, I refer back to the traditionally published versions as necessary). I normally have a general memory of where a given event happens or where a given issue comes up for handling. I then pull that copy of the ebook(s) in question, and do a search on various useful target phrases until I find what I'm after, and where it leads.

For new work, or stuff not yet committed to what passes for canon, I do have lots of notes. Some of them are actually out in public, at the currently-being-revised Errantry Concordance (though they're not in any form that anyone but me will recognize). Others are tucked away in the notes sections of pertinent Scrivener files—this being one of the most valuable things about Scrivener, as far as I'm concerned: the ability to store project notes in the project itself as opposed to "all over the damn place." Others yet are in my iPad, as either typing or dictation, and get transferred to other files/formats as necessary.

But the very first thing that happens, when a new work comes into train, is an outline. Sometimes a hilariously simple one, sometimes one with more detail in the middle than at the beginning or the end. Doesn't matter what shape it starts in. All notes, scraps, prose chunks, random thoughts, and midnight cogitations, get slotted into place in this until it's ready to be organized and sent off to an editor. And this outline—no matter how fragmentary or how polished—remains ready to hand at all times until I've finished with correcting the book's ARC and am looking at the release date.

And then I zip it up and put it away where I can find it later if I need to... because some other plan, still in the building stages, may need something in that one that never happened, but now has its chance. Because in YW, as everywhere else in my work, it's so often about the things that have always almost happened... until they do.

...Anyway: HTH!

[graneymar]

HII can you do a jealous neymar? Thank you!

#9. NEYMAR: JEALOUSY JEALOUSY

SUMMARY: Neymar is getting jealous because one of his friends seems to like you a little too much

WARNINGS: none

PAIRING: Neymar x fem!reader

"Oh God, that guy, Gabriel Medina, he’s literally so hot! Have you already met him?", Nessa, my best friend, asked and held up her phone, a picture of Gabriel on her screen. "Yeah, last time we were in Brasil I've met him a few times. He's really nice", I told her as I prepared Neymars favorite salad for him. He would be home from training soon. "I am having the biggest crush on him, literally. Next time you're going to Brasil and get to meet him you gotta take me with you", she insisted, "Why have you never talked about him before? I usually know when you're hanging out with Neys friends." The moment she finished her sentence, my phone lit up. An instagram notification. Speak of the devil and he appears. Gabriel replied to my insta story.

"The weather in Paris looks shit, you better move your ass to São Paulo soon 😏 jk. Tell me when you're here again tho!"

I never really knew how to react to Gabriel acting this way. Was he actually flirting or just trying to be nice and funny? I knew most of Neymars friends and none of them acted like this, at least not around me. I glanced up at Nessa and handed her my phone, "That’s why I prefer not to talk about him - at all." Nessas mouth fell open as she read the message. "Y/N, he obviously laid his eyes on you! Does Ney know about it?" I shook my head from left to right quickly. We were together for nine months now, but I still didn't feel good about talking negatively about one of his closest friends. Plus, Gabriel meant a lot to him, I didn't want to be the reason their friendship would come to an end. "Neymar doesn’t know anything about it and I don't want him to know, at least not yet", I answered her question and heard something drop onto the ground. I slightly turned my head to find Neymar standing in the door frame, his training bag on the floor next to him. His eyes said more than a thousand words. He must’ve heard us. "Hi babe, how was training?", I rapidly put on a fake smile to hide my shock. No reaction from his side. "Uhm, I made you your favorite salad! Are you hungry?" He watched me for a few seconds, my nervousness rising, before he finally spoke up. "I don’t know about what? What is it that you don’t want me to know?" I gulped, my heartbeat skipped a beat. Nessas eyes kept on wandering between us until she decided to get up from her seat. "I'll just leave you two alone", she shyly said, "Have a nice day!" And with that, the front door was closed behind her. Neymar still stood in the door frame, his eyes literally looking right through me, the silence in the room was unbearable. "Are you going to tell me what you’ve been talking about now or do I have to find out another way?", he said, his voice calm yet mad. I bit the side of my cheek, not sure what I was supposed to do. I unlocked my phone and went on instagram in order to show him mine and Gabriels chat, but I got cut off in the middle of doing so. "Seriously? You're going on fucking instagram now?", Neymar raised his angry voice. My body twitched at his tone. I put my phone onto the kitchen counter and pushed it to Neymar, Gabriels message already visible. I followed his eyes reading every word, but I wasn’t able to read his facial expression. He then took my phone and scrolled through the chat, reading about how Gabriel called me beautiful, saying I should come back to São Paulo, sending me songs and a lot of - mostly shirtless - photos of himself. "Block him", he suddenly said. I looked at him in disbelief. "Ney, he’s one of your best friends. Don’t you think it’ll be awkward when I see him again after I blocked him?" He handed me back my phone and looked me straight in the eyes. "Who says you’ll see him again? I won’t let that bastard get near you." I shook my head from left to right, "Don't talk about him like that, he’s still one of the closest people to you."

"You really think I'll act like everything is alright after this son of a bitch tried to get to my woman? He better pray to God I won't see him next time I'm in Brasil. He really thinks he can pull whoever he wants with his sparkly eyes, adorable smile and bodybuilder body. Always acting like Mister Charming and being oh so funny. You can try to pull whoever you want, but not my girl." I tried to hold it back, but couldn’t stop myself from quietly giggling. He looked at me all confused. "What’s so funny?"

"Is someone getting jealous?", I playfully raised my brows at him. "Me? Jealous? Of who?", he replied, trying to deny what was obvious. "I quote: his sparkly eyes, adorable smile, bodybuilder body." Neymar shrugged. "So what? I'm still better. He doesn’t even come close to me." His lips were pouted and his eyes wandered to the ground as he was speaking. "Aw babe", I started, positioning myself right in front of him and wrapping my hands around his neck, "You are the most attractive, truly the most handsome man I've met in my whole life. No one makes me laugh like you do. You make me the happiest and I couldn't imagine a better boyfriend than you." I smiled and kissed his lips gently. His facial expression softened as he placed his hands onto my waist. "Just block him, ok?"

"Your wish is my command", I nodded before pecking his lips once more.

[peterparkouryo]

no way remedy | ꕥ

before the storm | ꕥ

warnings: fluff. angst

word count: 3.7k

a/n: i just want to say this story was made in january of 2022 so the writing is horrible 😭 istg it’ll get better after chapter three

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ taglist

YOUR DATE WITH PETER WAS GOING AMAZING. You'd never would had thought someone like him could be such a romantic. Not that you're complaining, but given how long you've known the boy, it was hard to assume he could be the movie sort of romantic guy.

Your date consisted of a walk in Central Park ( a classic) and some ice cream from the local convenient store because fall was approaching rather quickly and the ice cream truck was no longer in season.

Now to be fair, you were never a hopeless romantic type, but when you had met Peter, he changed your life (in more ways than some). He had made you see the colour you were too blind to see because your life was always filled with darkness by choice. He helped you be more optimistic than pessimistic as you always were. You felt as if Peter was the sun to your moon, and sure that was probably cheesy but it was the honest truth.

Currently, you two were hand in hand, walking to your apartment instead of swinging, because you were afraid of heights and of course you trust Peter with your entire life, but being more than three feet above the ground was a terrifying thought.

When you had found out about your boyfriend being the friendly neighbourhood Spider-Man, it was when you and your friends were on the school trip that quickly turned to hell. You had always had an inkling that he was your city's hero, but you were never really sure. It wasn't until your sister Michelle, told you her suspicions as well, and you were eyeing him ever since. Of course you only eyed him for that one reason, well that's not true, you had eyed him because one, you wanted to know if he was Spider-Man, and two, you had an major crush on him.

It wasn't major per se, but every time you secretly read a romance novel, you'd picture the two main characters were yourself and Peter, an insane thing to think, but you couldn't help it.

After the school trip, and Mysterio's pandemonium, Peter confessed just how much he liked you, which was a total surprise to you. You had always thought it was one sided, and he had his eyes set on your sister, but it only seemed that way because the boy is truly just that awkward. 

You're glad things are the way they are for now.

"So, same time tomorrow?" Peter asked, swinging your hands back and fourth, the upcoming August wind blowing mercifully against your faces.

"A second date?" You quizzed, gazing at him with a small smile.

Peter shrugs.

"Sure, why not." He smiled back, giving your hand a soft squeeze.

Given this was your first official date after all the chaos that happened on your trip, you couldn't really say no to a second one, knowing that since this one went without problems and normality, the second one shouldn't be as bad.

"I'd love to." You beamed just as you two arrived at your apartment building.

"Awesome." Peter smiled, letting go of your hand, watching your figure walk to the building's doubled doors as you opened it, stopping in your tracks to turn around to give him a final wave, which he reciprocated. 

Your building wasn't fancy, not that you mind, and you were grateful you had a place to live, to be able to go to sleep in a nice warm not so comfy bed.

You walked up the stairs to your complex, and you would had took the elevator if it wasn't broken for the fourth time this month.

Your phone dinged with a notification, a text from Peter asking if you made it to your door okay, and your heart flutters at his thoughtful concern. You reply with a 'yes', grabbing your key from the back of your pocket and putting it in the keyhole before unlocking it.

Once you entered the abode, you're hit with a familiarity of books, the pages either crumbled or worn out with a tear. The soft noises of the TV in the living room filling your ears and being the curious person you are, you travel to the noise.

Your father is sitting on the couch, watching an old show made in the sixties, a habit you adored about him.

"Hey." You greet him, setting down the flower Peter had gave you when he arrived at your apartment, into an empty flower vase on the end table next to the couch.

"Hey hun, how was your hangout with your friend?" He asked, turning his attention away from the TV to look at you.

"Dad for the last time, it was a date, not a hangout." You corrected, rolling your eyes as you fixed the flower into the vase.

You had told your father about the date, and also about the fact you were dating Peter, but he was either forgetful or just didn't really like the idea of you dating anyone. Peter tried his hardest to make your dad appreciate him, but it was pointless, and that may be because your dad did not care about his attempts of overawe.

"Oh, right. With Peter?" He quizzed, raising an eyebrow.

You hum out your response, flipping over the ceramic flower necklace attached to your neck.

It was a white astrantia flower, one of the petals cracked, but you didn't mind, it still had special meaning and gave it a sort of character, you suppose. Peter had given it to you shortly before his confession back in London on the landmark bridge. He rambled about what it meant to you and why he was going to give it to you and you only had smiled and gave his cheek a quick peck to shut him up.

The flower meant a lot to you, because anyone and everyone you met had told you how strong you were and how you would be the first to defend anyone you cared for. Your bravery was an inspiration to others, something Peter would remind you of any chance he got.

"Your sister should be home from her shift shortly." You hear your dad tell you as you make your way to your bedroom.

You say nothing, going to your bedroom and closing the door.

Your room wasn't much, just a room filled with shelfs of clutter and books, notes of affirmation attached to your wall near your closet, and Polaroids above the headboard of your bed that consisted of pictures from your trip and adventures with MJ.

Your favourite polaroid was your recent one with Peter, the two of you sharing a ice cream, but instead of the two of you being a cliche and licking it, you were holding up the cone as ice cream melted, a bright smile adorning your face as Peter reciprocated it, his hand also nursing the waffle cone.

You grabbed a pin from the drawer of the nightstand near your bed, your grip on the polaroid picture, closing the drawer and climbing on your bed holding the picture to the pinboard.

Before you could put the photo on the pinboard your sister practically bursts through your bedroom door, causing you to drop the polaroid, it slipping between your headboard and falling under your bed. You mutter a curse, getting off your bed and turning your gaze toward MJ.

"Sup, loser." She greets with a straight face, decorated in her work attire, her teal shirt with a hint of pink on the end of the sleeves the same pink colour also peaking from her collar, a mess.

"What happened?" You question, ignoring her greeting as you gestured toward her shirt that had a few stains.

"Some moron didn't know how to drink coffee, and I tripped with a donut in my hand." MJ shrugs, going over to your bed before laying down with a huff.

You nod, doing the same.

"Sounds horrific." You say, placing your hands on your stomach.

"How was your movie cliche date with spider boy?" MJ asked with a hint of curiosity. 

It made sense sister knew Peter was Spider-Man. You had nothing to do with her finding out, she told you how it was kind of obvious to begin with and she confronted him before things took turn for the worst during your time in London.

"It was," You started, pondering your thoughts as the curly haired girl expectingly looked at you. "Surprisingly great." You finished with a smile, your sister rolling her eyes.

"I always knew he'd turn you sappy." She sighed, sitting up from the bed, scanning your room.

You roll your eyes as well, staring at the ceiling.

"You're just jealous." You say back.

"I have Ned." MJ joked, causing you to chuckle.

"You apply to MIT yet?" She asked quietly, fiddling with her hands.

"Yup, just waiting for the letter." You tell her quickly, feeling your heart tighten in your chest at the mere thought of rejection.

You, MJ, Peter, and Ned had this almost impossible plan to apply for the same college, because you four were just that inseparable and even if you and MJ breathed being introverts, you were genuinely glad you met Peter and Ned. One being your best friend and significant other and the other being your best friend, but together, you'd die for them.

"Same." MJ says with a smile before the girl gets up from your bed and makes her way to your door.

"I'll be with Peter tomorrow for our second date." You tell her randomly.

"Gross." Is the last thing she says, exiting your room as the door closes.

You roll your eyes, dismissing her comment before turning off your light to enter a much needed slumber, anticipating tomorrow, your mind already filling with the things you and Peter could do.

peter parkour: omw, be thesr soon

peter parkour: thers

peter parkour: teher

peter parkour: nvm

you: don't swing and text :)

You quickly stuff your phone in your pocket after sending the message to Peter, warning him about his bad habit of swinging and texting. You were already nervous with the date you didn't expect, but adding him and his hazard swinging to the mix wasn't helping. 

Unfortunately for you, Peter had insisted that you two go on a swinging date, then go to Delmar's, which was at it's third instalment, and he promised for your third date that he would let you pick out what you two could do. You would hold him to that too.

You had hope that your current outfit was too much of a hassle for Peter to navigate with, because you know it would be difficult if he had to swing with you with the outfit you were wearing.

Your outfit wasn't plain, but it also wasn't extravagant either. You had barely just any energy when you were picking it out. You had borrowed a grey cable knit cardigan from MJ's closet, hoping your sister wouldn't notice, but given her observant personality, you doubt she wouldn't. You had paired it with a charlotte skirt you found in your closet with your black high top converses, because well, why not?

It wasn't that you didn't want to swing around with Peter, but you didn't, at all. There was nothing the boy could do that would convince you to do it, not anything that you knew would work. Somehow though, he convinced you anyway saying it would be fun, and a "one time thing only", which you only hoped was true.

A knock at your window broke you from your thoughts, your attention gazing over toward Peter, who was in his newly made suit, the classic red colour now assigned with black.

You send him a smile, going to your window and opening it to let him in.

"Sorry I took too long, there was this whole thing with Happy and May that I had to sort out, then it got all weird so I just left." The boy rambled, entering your room before taking off his mask.

"It's okay." You laughed, fighting the urge to fix his unruly curls.

"You look great, by the way." Peter adds quickly with a flustered face.

It always amazed you at how shy and awkward Peter could be at times when it came to complimenting you, or just giving you words of affirmation at any given time. It quite literally surprised you when he had the guts to ask you to be his girlfriend.

"Thanks, you too." You say just as shyly. You had no idea why you had said that anyway, he was only wearing his Spider-Man suit, but it was still the truth anyhow.

"I only wore this because I didn't want to go swinging." You admitted, watching the boy give you an eye roll.

"I promise it's not that bad, not unless you make it that way." Peter tells you, approaching your figure before taking both your hands in his spandex covered ones.

"And I promise to never let you fall. I will always be the one to catch you." He adds sincerely, and you swear your heart grows three sizes at his words.

Like you said before, Peter always finds a way to give you words of affirmation no matter what.

You give him a shy smile, your cheeks practically burning at his words, giving his left one a peck.

"Alright, let's go before I change my mind." You tell him, the boy letting out a breathy chuckle.

"Okay, okay." Peter says, tugging his mask back onto his face.

"Is MJ here?" He questioned as he exited your room, sticking to the building in front of your window.

"Yeah, why?" You ask, taking a hold of his hand he had it held out for you.

You wrap your legs around his hips, connecting your arms around his neck, clinging onto the boy for dear life and he wasn't even swinging yet.

"Just asking." Peter shrugs, closing your window for you.

"Ready?" He asked, one hand gripping around your waist.

"Never."

"Great!"

Everything happens rather quickly from you two being still at the outside of your window to Peter all too swiftly, without warning swinging you both through the city, your heart pounding wildly against your chest.

"Oh my god!" You scream, closing your eyes as you bypassed buildings, burying your head into his neck.

Your boyfriend seemed to pay no mind to your screeching. It surprised you, supposing you were quite literally screaming into his ear, which you hoped you didn't do too much damage to. However, your heart was no longer in your chest, instead at the bottom of your stomach, you felt like you were going to puke.

What really surprised you throughout this whole torturous swinging was the fact your skirt wasn't a problem at all, not that it would've been anyway because you were smart enough to wear shorts underneath.

"I'm not looking! I'm not looking!" You continue your whines, feeling the swift wind blowing wildly in your face, hearing Peter's cheers as you continue to navigate through the city.

Peter was keened on making sure you felt safe when swinging with him, though you did, it still didn't help with your fear of heights. Sure, you hated this, but you know somewhere deep down inside of you, you enjoyed this, maybe just for a bit though.

You let him be in the moment, him at one point doing some sort of trick where it seemed he was going to drop you, but doesn't, something that made you let out a loud throaty screech in fear.

After awhile though, the swinging thankfully comes to an end after your pleading of asking him to drop you in the middle of Times Square.

When he does, you two land near a lamp post, your hair that was in an up do, probably a mess from the rush of wind you induced. 

"You okay?" Peter concerns, watching your body relax as you catch your breath.

You nod, unable to form any words, your throat aching from all the screaming you did.

"Yeah, just-" You start, "never do that again." You warned him, watching him nod in understanding.

"Ever." You added, making him laugh.

"Alright." Peter reassures.

"You still want to go to Delmar's?" Peter asked unsurely, tilting his head in curiosity. 

You thought about his question for a moment. He did promise you he would, but in all honesty you really didn't feel like it, at least you thought you didn't. Plus Delmar's was all the way in Queens while you two were standing in the middle of Times Square, which wasn't anywhere near the deli.

"Maybe tomorrow?" You suggested raising an eyebrow.

"Oh okay, sure." He agreed.

"I'll just have my dad pick me up, because, you know." You tell him, hoping he caught on to what you were trying to get at.

"Right, understandable." Peter chuckles.

"See you tomorrow?" He questioned, and you give him a nod as your answer before going in for a hug.

You two mutter your goodbyes, you watch the spider boy swing to the lamp post you were near, causing the birds that were sitting there to fly away in alarm.

You were just about to pull out your phone to call your dad to pick you up, the spider boy also about to leave before something on one of the many screens in the Square catch your attention.

"This is breaking news." the anchor from a Led screen announces, dragging most of the civilians who were wandering the Square's attention, as well.

"We come to you know with revelations about last week's attack in London." An anchor on a big screen you were staring at says, Peter turning around to look at another one on a much bigger screen.

You furrow your eyebrows in confusion, curious as to what new information could possibly be provided.

"An anonymous source provided this video." The anchor says, your eyes gaze to Peter who was already looking down at you. It didn't take a genius to know that he was confused and fearful underneath his mask.

"It shows Quentin Beck, aka Mysterio, moments before his death." The man adds, a small crowd gathering near you to watch the screen.

"A warning, you may find this video disturbing." He adds.

Your head unknowingly tilts in confusion, watching the screen switch from the news man to a video footage of the former villian at the London bridge.

"I managed to send the Elemental through the rift." Beck says fearfully.

"But I don't think I'm gonna make it." He exclaims, and you almost could roll your eyes at his victimized act.

"Spider-Man attacked me for some reason." Beck lies straight through his teeth, you knew it was a bold face one, Peter as well, but you feared the many people that lingered around you who was either watching or not would believe him. You really hoped they didn't.

"He has an army of weaponized drones, Stark technology." He informs wearily, the video glitching every chance it got.

The ironic part about that sentence was that army of drones were his weapon, the same weapon the man used to try to delusion you and your friends, the same weaponized drones that he tried to kill you with. Somehow, he managed to make it seem like Peter was using the Stark technology for bad reasons, which wasn't the case at all.

"He's saying he's the only one who's gonna be the new Iron man." Beck spits out yet another lie.

Your face falls in disbelief, no longer in its curious expression as it was before, you glance at a couple people who had their phones out, recording the scene ahead of them.

The footage then glitches, or cuts to a new footage of Mysterio, or Beck, laying limp on the ground as Peter stood before him, talking to the AI glasses Tony Stark had given him, EDITH.

"Are you sure you want to commence the drone attack?" The AI lady's voice asked.

"There will be significant casualties." She warned.

"Do it. Execute them all." Peter tells, but from your knowledge you can tell the video is heavily edited, chunks of what actually happened cut out for reasons you weren't so sure of.

Gun shots were being fired in the video, most likely destroying the drones, but it probably seemed as if it was doing something way worst, you had no idea since Peter was the only one there, able to know what actually happened.

"This shocking video was released earlier today." The anchor mans says, coming back into frame of the screen, and you feared the worst.

"On the controversial news website." The man adds, and you figured it was probably the Daily Bugle, to which was true since the man says it anyway, the screen cutting to the news website, showing a grumpy old man known as J. Jonah Jameson.

"There you have it folks, conclusive proof that Spider-Man was responsible for the murder of Mysterio." Jameson informed.

You gave your surroundings a quick look over, the crowd that was small much more bigger.

"An interdimensional warrior who gave his life to protect our planet and who will no doubt go down in history as the greatest superhero of all time." You watch the bias anchor say, you were now starting to see why this news website was so controversial, your blood boiling at the praise Beck was receiving undeservingly. 

Peter once again looks at you, and if you weren't so focused on his reaction you'd miss his body demeanour practically pleading for the both of you to get out of there, not wanting to face the public any longer.

You were about to call out his name, but the next words from the screen stops you.

"But that's not all folks." Jameson exclaims, your head snapping back toward the screen in-sync with Peter's.

"Here's the real blockbuster." He says and your face turns into yet another curious expression, your eyebrows furrowed.

"Brace yourselves. You might wanna sit." Jameson warns.

The screen shows Beck once again, the video glitching more evident this time, due to the damage it had most likely faced.

"Spider-Man's real-" The man starts, the video footage glitching. "Spider-Man's real name is-" He tries again, looking around in alert before the screen glitches to black for a second, and your heartbeat quickens, hoping what you think was about to happen didn't.

Unfortunately the screen glitches back to Beck, his face only getting inhumanly bigger on the screen as the worst came to settlement, his final words shocking everyone around you.

"Spider-Man's name is Peter Parker!" Beck exclaims, the video cutting to an familiar image of your boyfriend, being plastered on many Led screens in the Times Square.

"Oh, shit." You say with dread, hearing people gasp in disbelief, a few citizens pointed to your boyfriend who still remained sat on the lamp post.

What was supposed to be an innocent date, turned into something much worst. You had no idea what to do, and you figured neither did Peter, the one who surely whose head probably was exploding with a million thoughts.

[saucyjothoughts]

Festival sex with Jan was my umazane misli request, and I love you too. Because YAAAAAY ADDGSSTHDFH🥵🥵 that was amazing and cute and hot and so much more than I had hoped for. My heart started beating faster when I saw my request on your Tumblr and I've read it at least 7 times by now. I looooooove it.

Thank you so much! Thank you thank you thank you ❤️ The whole festival atmosphere was spot on. In my mind it never was a just-for-once-hookup and I love it that you made them actually exchange numbers. Real numbers. They will definately hook up again on the second night, won't they? The festival weekend is far from over. So if you're up for a sequel..😇

Festival Sex with Jan - Part Two

(part one here)

(nsfw under the cut)

You can still feel him on your mouth when you get back to your tent. You’re a little tender between the legs and you smell of him and he’s left marks on your neck and your friends immediately quiz you about where you’ve been. Annoying, but also kinda good for your ego.

The second day of the festival goes much like the first. Except this time, you’re checking your phone a little more frequently. Because once wasn’t enough. The sun is hot and so are you, and you’re thinking about how his body felt against yours, how his cock pulsed in your hand, how good his tongue felt against your clit. It's another day of rushing between stages and singing until your lungs are raw and indulging in greasy food and feeling your skin burn under the summer sun and meeting people with cool styles but no one grabs your interest for too long because none of them are him.

When his message finally comes through, you forget all about the next band.

Jan Nosering Festivalfuck: “Can still taste you x”

Something deep in your gut quivers. He tells you that his tent buddy suffered an injury that meant he had to leave the festival early, so he has room if you want to 'hang out' later.

It’s already dark when he meets you at the agreed place and walks you back to his tent, leading you by the hand. So it wasn’t just the beer goggles yesterday – he really is as cute as you remember. You’d missed his voice and that little smile. He sneaks you inside when the coast is clear, zipping it up behind you. It smells of grass and his dirty clothes and cologne and there’s just enough room for you to stretch out and get comfortable before he’s touching the side of your face, asking about your day. You tell him about which bands you saw while he’s running his palm over the curve of your hips and about those amazing cinnamon churros while he’s tracing his fingers along your thigh and about your friend getting one of her shoes stuck in a tree while he’s flicking gently at the spot where your nipple pokes against your top. All the while he’s listening, asking you questions, telling his own stories, and you begin to realise you might actually like him. He’s nice, he’s funny, and you need him in your mouth right now. You don't even know how badly he's been craving you all day and how greedy his body is with you finally right there under his touch.

He cranes his head back for you to devour that milky-sweet neck and this time you’re in no rush, this time the whole night is yours if you want it. The grounds are loud but his tent is a bubble and before you know it, you’ve taken his shirt off and let him remove yours and the air is steamy, heavy with tipsy-tired breath and the need for relief after a long, restless day. It’s almost too warm to be this close to him but his bare chest against yours feels so good, even though you’re both sweaty and breathless, every touch almost unbearably intense.

He’s exploring your tattoos with his gaze, his fingertips, his mouth - logging every inch of you to his memory to keep him satisfied for long after the festival is over - while you fumble out of the rest of your clothes and you can’t get over being able to see all of him, to feel him everywhere. You wonder what his job must be to have these rough but oh so delicate hands, this lithe muscle (he mentioned something about playing guitar but half the people at this festival do - he probably isn't even good) but now isn't the time for such personal questions. He has just the perfect amount of body hair across his chest and down his abs and under his navel and… how did you get down here? He shifts a knee and if you’d looked up you’d have seen him biting the back of his wrist, but your attention is squarely on the cock that gave you so much pleasure last night. The tent isn't big enough for this to be comfortable but you don't care, crouching over to take his erection in your hand and kiss at his balls as he groans in encouragement, trying to keep himself quiet. His musk fills your lungs and his body tenses in anticipation of your mouth and when you do finally take mercy on him and press your kiss against his cock, he hisses an inhale through his teeth and bucks his hips up against you. He's been dreaming of your lips all day; against his own or around his dick. Those lips, too.

You suck him leisurely, all spit and salt, cock jumping in your mouth and the taste of precum on your tongue, balls tightening until he reaches down to lift your chin.

“I need to fuck you.” His voice is delicious.

He flips you over in the cramped, sweaty little tent and tastes himself on your mouth unapologetically. On your back, he kneels between your legs and takes a moment to drink in the sight of you while he dresses his erection and then all at once he’s on top of you, as close as anyone has ever been. He explores you with his fingers first, slippery and skillful, and then it’s his cock pushing into you as you wrap one leg around his waist and he holds it for you there, rocking his hips deep into you. It’s intense and filthy, an indulgent little luxury in the liminal space of this festival, of this tent. His hair is wet with sweat - as is yours - and a bead of it drips from his brow onto your cheek which he hastily follows with his mouth, lapping it back up. He feels so good inside you. You’re eager to let go, to push through into euphoria.

He pauses. You note him hushing his breath and lifting his head, listening. There are new voices outside, close. His friends have returned. His thrusts slow but don’t stop altogether, and you can feel every inch of him as he moves. The feeling provokes an involuntary whine from your lips and Jan Nosering FestivalFuck slowly places a hand over your mouth, begging your silence. His hand is big and rough over your face and he uses just enough pressure to push the back of your head into the ground. There's naughtiness in his dark eyes, wickedness in his smile. In a playful moment, you push your tongue out to lick at his palm and he just about melts above you.

You hear voices call his name and after letting you suck on his fingers for a second, he reaches to pull a sheet over you both, covering your nakedness. Just in case anyone tries to open the tent. A part of you hopes they do.

You want to make this worse, to make it harder for him to keep his cool. You slip a hand between your hot bodies to touch yourself while he’s inside you, his cock leaping in you when he realises what you're doing. Watching him drunk on you, losing more and more control, it doesn't take long for your orgasm to hit. With the way your wet pussy clenches around his cock and how your pleasure shudders through your voice and makes you cling onto him so tightly, he's coming hard in you while you're still high. He continues slamming himself wetly into you for a long time after your peak is passed and you free fall together through the ecstasy of this intimate moment, landing softly on each other.

Afterwards, sweaty and sensitive, he continues touching you, cuddling you, your body quivering in residual pleasure. The whole tent reeks of sex and you never want to leave.

But you'll have to.

You're heading home tomorrow. You’ll never see Jan Nosering FestivalFuck again. You wonder if you'll message him anyway (maybe share some naughty pics) but it'll be pointless in the long-term. After the summer you’re moving all the way to Ljubljana to study pure mathematics at the university. Maybe you’ll find someone there to take your mind off him.

[fbfh]

Do you still write for SGE?

If so, Tedros with a rebellious reader?? She’s an Ever but she doesn’t wear make up or fancy dresses, she’s a heavy book worm who skips class and sits by the boys training grounds to read in the shade it’s definitely not to see him. She doesn’t fit in and he loves her for it!

YES YES I DO. I JUST WATCHED THE MOVIE FOR A THIRD TIME SO I'M BACK ON MY BULLSHIT.

unfortunately for you, if you attend the school for good the odds of being able to avoid fancy dresses and makeup are very low. however, you managed to stay relatively in your comfort zone with dresses usually reserved for classes in the blue forest which are much more minimalistic and a little shorter so they don't get dirty or torn, and you've gotten much better at dodging the fairies that pursue you with makeup and hair pins. the benefit of attending the school for good is the library. Tedros didn't even bump into you until a few weeks into school because you were constantly devouring books. when you first found out the library was one floor above your dorm in Honor tower, you'd cried tears of joy. when you found out there was a second floor, gleaming and glistening and full of unread books, you thought you'd died and gone to heaven. your roommates have come to expect you sneaking in after curfew with another armful of books, only to return them for new ones a few days later. you ace as many of your classes as you can so you can get away with skipping them and not failing for a few extra hours of falling into book after book. professor Dovey has caught you skipping class to read on more than one occasion, but when you tell her about what you're reading you get so passionate your finger glow could light up a room. as long as you're not failing your classes, how could she keep you from something that not only makes you happy, but makes you even stronger at magic? she always sends you off with a wave, and has a bet with professor Anemone on if you'll be able to read through the entire library before you graduate. you had first stumbled on the shady trees near the boys training ground by accident. it was quiet and empty and so peaceful, the perfect place to read interrupted. a while later when the boys had come out to practice, as rowdy and lively as ever, you almost left. then you saw Tedros. you'd heard your roommates whispering about him, but had never really seen him. at mealtimes you were reading and you usually skipped the classes you have together. now you can see him up close, and you understand the breathy sighs and wistful looks that always acompany his name. normally you'd have left and found somewhere quiet, but something is keeping you there. you were there first, you decide, so you stay. it becomes something of a routine, and soon every time Tedros goes to practice sword fighting, he sees you there, just out of reach. you never look up at him, when he's looking at least, you never do much besides an occasional gasp or laugh at what you're reading.

one time he watched, intrigued as you very angrily slammed your book shut. you let out a disbelieving laugh, shaking your head, clearly enraged at a terrible decision the characters had made. you set the book aside, then picked up another one, and dived right in. Tedros has never been as attracted to someone has he was in that moment. as the days go on, he gets more and more curious about what books you're reading that can hold your attention in such a grip. he finally approaches you one day, striking up a conversation. you barely answer, glancing between him and the pages, hoping he won't see the nervousness you're trying so hard to conceal. "What are you reading?" his voice is so nice, and his stomach flips at the way you look up at him. you light up, describing in detail the story you've been obsessing over most recently. he sits down as you continue, cheeks flushing at the way you set down your book and angle yourself to face him. his smile mirrors yours, enamored at the passion you've been hiding. you're sure when you realize how much you've been rambling, you'll be embarrased, but he loves every moment of it. he's never had someone speak to him so freely, so enthusiastically about something they love, and he wishes you would never stop. whenever he sees you reading a new book, he goes out of his way to ask you about it. eventually you start showing up to more classes you have with him, and he keeps asking you about what you're reading, and for reccomendations. you really do have amazing taste, leaving little bookmarks with scribbled notes and comments for him. he loves doing that, and he'll keep doing that until he can work up the nerve to tell you how madly in love he's falling with you.

[writing-oof]

Books, Vampires, and Baby Vaccines

Day Six: (All) I got Technoblade and the Syndicate, and I started typing and ended up with vampires. Oops : ]

TW: mentioned dog bite, mentioned rabies vaccine

When Technoblade founded the Syndicate, he did not expect it to end up like this.

Honestly, it was just supposed to be a book club. How was he supposed to know that nobody read Greek Mythology except him and a bunch of immortals?

His aunt would probably kill him if she knew he was out in the woods cozying up to a bunch of vampires. In his defense, though, it is really cold.

And, despite the fact that they're dead as dust, Ranboo's pretty damn warm. Their blanket is super soft too.

And they're also like twelve, so Technoblade's pretty sure that even if they did decide to attack him all of the sudden, he'd be alright.

Probably.

He did see Tommy pick up an entire car once, but Ranboo had seemed pretty shocked themself so he figures that maybe that's just a Tommy thing.

Tommy's a weird kid.

Even weirder than Technoblade, who's the weirdest eleven year old in the whole city.

He knows because his teacher Mr. Skeppy tells him all the time, and he'd normally be upset, but the man says it like Technoblade's his kid and he just got an A+ on his report card so he doesn't really mind all that much.

Anyways, the point is that Tommy's weird, Technoblade's weirder, and the whole book club is vampires now except for him.

Actually--

Technobalde shifts to look at the spot between Ranboo's eyes. Ranboo, who's super polite, doesn't even look at Technoblade's face.

"Could I be a vampire?" Technobalde asks and Tommy makes a face.

"You're definitely not a vampire," he says and Technoblade rolls his eyes.

"No, I mean could I be a vampire," he says, "Like, could you make me a vampire?"

Tommy looks excited for half a second before his face falls and he scowls.

"No," he says, crossing his arms clearly pretty upset about it, "Dad said we can't make anyone else into vampires until we're a hundred and twenty."

"It's a mean rule," Tubbo says, blinking sleepily while Niki ties braids into his hair.

"It's still the rules, though," Ranboo points out.

Technoblade, who has never once followed a rule ever--and Mr. Skeppy doesn't count--says, "You shouldn't follow a rule if it's ridiculous."

Ridiculous is Technoblade's favorite word, ever since Mr. Halo--who he's pretty sure is Mr. Skeppy's secret demon husband--said that he was very ridiculous after he wrote a story about their demon marriage that made Mr. Skeppy so red in the face that he looked like a tomato.

"We have to follow the rules, though," Niki says and Technoblade scowls, sitting up more but not pulling away from Ranboo or his blanket.

"But were the Syndicate!" he points out, because they hate the rules and there's a lot of them and that's basically unionizing so they shouldn't have to do anything.

"Yeah, but Phil's the Syndicate too, though," Tubbo points out and Technoblade frowns.

He knew he shouldn't have invited any grown-ups into the Syndicate.

But Philza was cool!

He's the coolest vampire ever, with great big wings and a really nice bunch of birds that sound a lot like Chat when they caw a bunch at the same time.

"Fine," Technoblade says, "I'll just become a werewolf or something."

"No!" Tubbo cries, "Don't be a werewolf! They stink!"

"Tubbo," Niki scolds, "Jack doesn't stink."

"He does too," Tommy says, sticking out his tongue at her, "You're just mad 'cause he's your boyfriend."

"You take that back," she demands, getting up to her feet and leaving a sleepy Tubbo falling back onto the ground.

"Never!" Tommy shouts, turning to run deeper into the forest.

Niki chases after him, hot on his heels and Technoblade decides to ignore any screaming that may or may not commence after the face.

Tubbo, now sleep and grumpy, pushes at Techno until he lets him crawl into the blanket with him and Ranboo.

When Technoblade founded the Syndicate, he did not expect it to end up like this.

He's pretty okay with that, though.

---

Technoblade does not turn into a werewolf.

He does, however, have to explain the angry-red dog bite on his arm to his aunt and he gets himself scolded silly and taken to the doctors for a babies vaccine.

He tries to insist that he's not a baby anymore, especially since he fought a dog all by himself, but his aunt does not relent.

Techoblade resigns himself to being turned into a baby by the doctors. At least then he might have a chance at living long enough to get turned into a vampire.

---

Technoblade never does turn into a vampire.

By the time Tommy's finally old enough to turn him, Technoblade has already made himself a place in the coven--his coven--as the infamous Blood God.

And, while the Sleepy Boys end up called a lot of things over the decades, the Syndicate always seems to be the title that sticks.

And to think that it all started over a book on Greek Mythology and a couple of kids in the woods.

---

So Wilbur just shows up one day to the book club, a normal human who definitely is not a changeling here to take Technoblade's soul

I just ran out of time to write his part again

[stevenatroupe]

Acceptance

How it starts

I now accept. I  accept all things I went through, I accept all things I'm going  through, and most importantly accept the season of life I'm currently in. I know this  journey is long overdue. And God has definitely been revealing that to me. 

While reading “What Moving On Really Looks Like” in the book Single. On Purpose. By: John Kim - Which I highly recommend reading if you're in a relationship, single but looking, single and not looking, or have never been in a relationship at all. The book not only helps you become a better you, but become a better you for the people around you. The book is good. Anyways. The “chapter” is on Acceptance. It describes why acceptance is good for you, and by holding and not accepting the feeling continues to grow. “Like a virus we  may be able to bury it for a while by distracting ourselves but it will eventually come back.” 

For a while I never realized how much I was suppressing my past. Rejecting all things that happened to me physically, mentally, and sadly sexually. Because if I told myself it didn’t happen then it never happened. I can move on with my life. This is not at all true. 

I was born in Gary Indiana, raised in Apple Valley MN, and moved around within the Minnesota  area a lot. Most summers my family and I would take a road trip to Indiana, and stay there for the summer. By road trip I mean my mom would literally drive there in one day non-stop, drop my sisters and I off and turn around and head back to Minnesota. We wouldn’t see her again until she came back to gather us late August. 

I remember  one summer, which was my last summer ever traveling back to my grandparents home. I think this summer was so memorable  to me because it was the most traumatic. Two events happened. The first event was when my  older sister was doing my hair outside, I was sitting in a chair in my grandparents parking lot holding gel in my lap, and she was standing behind me braiding my hair. I no longer wanted her doing it  so I asked if we could be done. She said no and I instantly got up. It’s summertime, I wanted to hang out with my friends, not sit around getting my hair done. I should also mention, My mom had done my younger sister's and I's hair before heading to Indiana and I can remember her exact words. “Don’t let nobody play in  your hair.” Black moms take hair seriously. Me getting up triggered something in my sister. She had always dealt with  anger issues, but I’ve never experienced it due to her being one of two sisters who stayed in Indiana with my grandparents (My  mom was  a single parent to seven.) Her reaction to  me getting up and not allowing her to do my hair was her fighting me physically. Now at  this time I was about  seven or eight. The  only physical hurt I've ever experienced at this moment  was a whoopin by my mom. I had never been in a fight before, so defending myself was out of the question. I allowed it. My grandma came and got her off me, And when she finally let up I threw her jar of gel  on the ground and it shattered. 

The second event that happened to me was something I've never suppressed  and thought about more than I should. I don’t know if I’ve never  fully accepted it, or if it  hurts so much that It’s always been at the center of my brain. Maybe I’ve never truly forgiven, and until I do it will continue  to sit. This one involves lotion, sisters, uncle, and a belt. My uncle was known for giving out grand whoopins. He’d have us lay our hands on the edge of the couch, stick our  butts out, and if we moved  we got more hits added on to the ones we already “earned.” we  got  a whoopin for everything. I was sick  one day, threw up on the floor and got a whoopin… I was sick and a kid . but that's a story for another day. This one I like to think is wild. 

One day my Uncle called my sisters and I to the kitchen in my grandparents house. As he brought us all together  he  asked  a question I will never forget. “Who spilled all the lotion in the bedroom closet in the back, and didn’t clean it up.” Everyone was  silent, because they knew whoever answered was  getting in trouble, and if no one did we were all getting  in trouble.  It was silent for about a minute until I raised  my hand and  said I did it. No, I didn't do it. But  I also didn’t want my younger  sister to get in trouble for  something she didn’t do. After I answered he told me to go and grab the belt, and get into placement. I  did as I was told. When he got to me he  had asked  how many licks I wanted. (licks is what he called hits) Not knowing I could just say one, I said five. But me being me  I moved a lot and got a lot more then five. After he was done giving me my “licks” he said “Now go clean up the lotion.” I again did what I was told. But after realizing there was no lotion on the fool, I went to him and stated what I had seen. He said “Yes I know, you got the whoopin because you lied.” I was pissed. But I think I was more pissed that my grandma, and sisters said nothing after they heard this. And even more pissed that no one asked me if I was okay after essentially lying to them. 

Now I can take these situations and look at them in two ways. One being they both taught me lessons, Especially my uncle. Don’t ever lie for someone, or to someone. Or I can just accept these experiences were not okay, they could have both been handled differently and I Deserved better. They hurt me physically, and long term mentally. If I didn’t want my hair  done, I shouldn’t have had to get it done, and my uncle should have come up with a better, more sustainable way of teaching my siblings and I how not to lie. 

I’ve come to the realization that although I say I have forgiven my sister and Uncle, I have not. I have never really accepted the hurt this caused me, and how much this was actually still hurting me. You don’t think about them every day, but something happens that triggers the memory, and sends you down a spiral. Pressing this has allowed me to accept, now I have to go through the journey or moving through, with these stories, and so much more. 

“As you start to accept what happened, you will naturally start to move on. I'm going to give you another new definition: You are not moving on. You are moving through. Acceptance isn't a corner you turn. It's a journey, and journeys take time. But eventually a journey can lead You back to the village, a changed person, because with every journey there is a transformation.” - John Kim 

This is two of many stories I will share. I'm no longer sitting in silence. It’s time for me to be heard, to heal, and to move through. 

Stevena Troupe 

[clairecrive]

hi! I just recently found your account and I've been spending all my time reading everything you've written, and I wanted to tell you that I absolutely adore your writing! it's so beautiful.

I also wanted to request a friends to lovers nikolai x reader fic (you don't have to make it friends to lovers if you don't want to!) something along the lines of this: they get seperated after the battle with the darkling at the end of siege and storm and reader has to go with alina but they finally reunite? and everyone is super smug because they knew it would happen.

sorry for such a long ask and no worries if you decide not to do it! I hope you're doing well!!

Fools, pistols blazing and shock

A/n: a promise is a promise and the second most requested fic was Nikolai and angst and so here it is! friends to lovers is not my favorite trope but I enjoyed writing this. I hope you will too x

Thank you so much for your beautiful words btw, they mean the world <3<3

tags: @jupiterandbutterflies , @agentsofsheilds , @for-bebbanburg , @randomoutsiders , @hannaxmaria , @vintagebitc , @story-scribbler , @crowssixof , @odetostep , @lizzie-he4rts , @korol-lantsov , @subjecta13-thefangirl ,@gallysonegoodlung , @a-c-lee , @mriddlemethis , @carnationworld , @thanossexual , @luvxginger , @sanna2020 , @partiesandblurrypolaroids , @edithsvoice , @wafflesandschemingfaces , @snugleo , @sugarmelonwater , @dobwhore, @sassybadqueen , @anything-forourmoony, @snokoi, @imaginingimagines, @vintagebitc_,

SHADOW AND BONE MASTERLIST

"So," he twirled around, "how do I look?" With a theatrical gesture, he stopped in front of you.

You looked at him, head to toe, before saying, "Like a fool I know."

He was imperturbable, by the smirk on his face one would think that you had paid him a compliment. "The answer was far simpler: handsome."

"You look like a prince," you conceded, " but so does your brother so take that as you will." And with that, you walked to your assigned post leaving a scandalized Nikolai behind.

The dinner went by smoothly even if you had to bear Vasily being his annoying self. So far so good. The important thing was that the people around the table were under no threat. The rest was bearable.

And no, it had nothing to do with Nikolai winking at you from time to time. Flirting was second nature to him and Alina's presence by his side was a cold reminder of how things were.

It took one look at her for your face to go as blank as Mal's on the other side of the room.

You had disconnected from the conversation at the table for a second, your attention going to the exit where a Grisha soldier had just walked in to talk to Zoya. If you had been paying attention to Nikolai, you would have known what to expect.

But you hadn't and so the next few seconds were pure chaos.

The unthinkable happened.

Black shadows filled the room, leaving no chance to the people they had appeared before. The Queen's scream brought your attention back to the table and consequently to the Vasily. Or rather, to what was left of him.

Beside him, the kind had crouched down to hide and was cowering behind the throne. The Queen clutched her son's body to her chest wailing and screaming. Then your eyes fell on him, standing tall in front of his parents shooting away.

You didn't know what you were going to do. You didn't think. You just acted and the next thing you knew, you were running towards him shooting fire at whatever tendrils of shadows you could see.

"Nikolai!"

In a moment, you reached his side, covering his back for every possible attack.

"You need to go," you urged him over the sounds of crying and shooting. A shot of light filled the room blinking you for a moment and panic shot through you at the possibility of Alina being hurt.

"Take your parents and Alina and go Nikolai. You can't stay here!" You insisted again, still back to back, unwilling to let anything happen to him. If he meant to argue you didn't know. You heard him speak but his words went unheard over the chaos in the room.

You turned around just in time to see one of those things trying to make their way to him. The tendrils of fire that shot through you slowed it down but it was only a shot of wind coming from a squaller that did the trick and sent it away.

Nodding in the squaller's direction you took Nikolai's shoulders and turned him towards the secret exit behind the throne.

"Stop playing hero and just go for Saint's sake!" Under normal circumstances, he was stronger than you. And well, he still was but too busy worrying about getting his family to safety and covering your back, he ended up succumbing to your shoves.

"I can't leave you here!"

"You can and you surely will! I'll make sure that Alina is safe," ushering him and his parents towards the exit, you didn't give him time to argue. Once they were through the door, you closed it behind them and melted the lock.

You allowed yourself only a moment to worry about him, to mourn him if things were to go downhill for you. Only a second for you to mourn the future that you knew you were never going to get with him.

Then it was over. Your heart locked away and your mind focused solely on the battle ahead. You needed to make sure that Alina was alive and get her to safety whilst also trying to save as many as you could along the way.

A piece of cake.

*+*+*+*+*+*

You knew that he had made it out of Os Alta alive. You had gotten word that he had arrived safe and sound to one of his hiding spots scattered around the country.

Alina and a group of other Grisha, including yourself, had managed to make it out alive out of the capital as well.

All was as well as it could be under these gloomy circumstances. And yet, you couldn't help but feel like you had lost.

Too many had fallen under the Darkling's wrath. Too many had given up their lives in honor of Ravka's freedom. Too many sacrifices for you all to be hiding in the tunnels like scared cats.

But you had a plan. You just needed to be in the same room as Alina, all of you at once, and you were going to make your way up.

It was only a matter of time before you were going to see him again.

*+*+*+*+*+*

It turned out that you were right. It was a matter of time indeed before you saw Nikolai again.

As always, he couldn't help but make a grand entrance while praising his good looks. For once, your eyes didn't roll in mock annoyance. The joy of seeing him again, safe and sound while also saving your asses, prevailed.

And the moment his eyes met yours? Priceless.

Despite being in the middle of running away and fighting the first army's soldiers, you felt like there was only the two of you. Nothing mattered besides Nikolai, his stupid smirk that shone brighter than all the stars combined.

It turned out that that moment came with a price indeed. Your distraction paved the way for an almost fatal mistake.

Too lost in Nikolai's eyes and restraining yourself from throwing yourself at him, you didn't notice the soldier sneaking up behind him. Or well, you didn't until it was too late.

The movement caught your eyes, but the bastard had his pistol already drawn. You had the presence of the spirit of pushing Nikolai out of the way before a shot was fired.

Focusing on the bullet you tried all your might to melt it, but you knew it was a desperate attempt since you had noticed it too late. Trying and losing was better than not trying at all so trying you did.

However, what turned out to be life-saving was Nikolai's counterattack. While you exercised the small science, Nikolai quickly drew his own pistol and shoot at the soldier.

Time seemed to slow down as you stared in front of him, hands in the air while Nikolai moved behind you. Right before your brain registered that while you had indeed managed to burn the bullet, it was still coming your way at high speed, another object entered your field vision.

At that moment you didn't exactly decipher what had happened, you blinked and the bullet was not there anymore. However, your stupor was short-lived as other soldiers were coming your way after hearing the noise.

At that point, Nikolai tugged you away and towards his awaiting ship knowing that the soldiers would surely outnumber you.

It all happened in a blink. One moment you were on the ground hellbent on not dying, and the other you were up in the air.

That, combined with the stress of the last couple of weeks. exhaustion and dehydration put you in a state of shock. Resulting in you staring numbly ahead of you.

Then, when you felt a hand on your face, your brain started working again and your eyes slowly began to focus.

"Are you injured?"

Nikolai was moving your head left and right to check for wounds and after that, he moved down on your neck and vital points. But you weren't hurt.

"It's so typically you to swoop in and save the day in the most dramatic way possible that I shouldn't even be surprised."

Your sarcasm reassured him that you were fine more than the absence of physical wounds. Leaning back on his haunches, he gave you a lazy smirk. "You know me, always read to save damsels in distress."

You almost hated how handsome he looked in that moment but the fact that he basically had saved your life made it really hard for you to get mad at him.

"Not a damsel and not in distress but I appreciated your gesture," you fired back falling naturally into your usual easy banter. "Thank you, Kolya."

"You shouldn't be thanking me. I did it for a whole selfish reason." His features morphed into seriousness which was usually something he left for meetings or that kind of stuff. Seeing it now directed at you, seriously worried you.

"Since when does Nikolai Lanstov shy away from gratefulness and compliments?" You tried to jest but to no avail.

"I'm serious."

"Alright, so why did you do it? You have tons of other Grisha available."

"Because a world without you is not a world I want to live in."

Well, damn. Trust Nikolai to make you completely speechless.

"That must be the shock talking," you murmured still taken back by his words.

"I've almost lost you, y/n, I'm not going to waste any more time avoiding my feelings." Crossing his arms on his chest, Nikolai lightly shook his head. Damn, there was no smirk on his face, no twinkle in his eyes. He must be serious.

"I should be having an epiphany moment since I was the one who almost died," you protested.

"Feel free to declare your undying love for me then."

"Ass. Now I'm tempted not to do it just to prove you wrong," you glared at him but sighed knowing what you needed to do. "But, as much as it pains me, you're right."

Your eyes flickered between yours and the sheer intensity of them gave you enough confidence to bear your heart to him, "I do love you, you know."

"Well, let's be honest, who wouldn't. I'm amazing," with a careless shrug, Nikolai gestured to himself. Which, of course, made you glare at him.

"Joking, I take it back. You're insufferable." Your mock-annoyance did nothing but amuse him to no end. However untruthful they might be, Nikolai played along with your words. While also progressively leaning closer to you.

"Nope, can't do that love. You signed your destiny, you're mine." You would have retired, of course you would have, but the truth is, his lips were more interesting than any witty comeback ever could.

[bangtaninborderland]

Risk It All (14) - Downfall.

Genre: Chishiya x f! Reader, angst, fluff, action.

Warning: mention of injuries, blood, guns, violence.

A/N: I decided to bring Arisu and Usagi in a little earlier.. your welcome! So just 6 days until the witch hunt…. Isn’t this exciting! NOkay I loved writing this chapter but I have had so many messages asking how I write Chishiya so well and the truth is, I was with someone just like him. I mean exactly like him and a mix of Niragi which is scary. But I think I also portray the reader as how I was with the person I was with. They don’t want to love so all you can do is love them and yourself enough for the both of you. Thankyou so much for staying engaged with my fic and I hope you continue to love reading it as much as I love to write it

Ch.13 | Masterlist | Ch.15

You hopped down the stairs from the hospital towards the car. Nothing could ruin your mood.

Or so you thought.

Suddenly a painful blow comes from behind forcing you to the ground, you knew who it was and you knew why.

You turned your head to see Niragi standing there with his gun.

"You really think I was going to let this go bitch?!" He shouted as he once again used his gun to hit you.

You wanted to scream but you wouldn't give him that satisfaction, you pulled yourself up and turned your body so you could face him.

"You can hit me all you want Niragi, but that won't change that I wasn't the one who hurt you. If anything all of your fingers deserve to be chopped off for touching something that isn't yours. Didn't your mother ever teach you that?"

You laugh smiling into his face.

You see him begin to tremble with rage. However, you don't regret your words.

You didn't have time to move before he picked up his leg and kicked you in your stomach.

The kick winded you and it took you a second to regain control of your breathing. Niragi seemed to take advantage of this as he delivered another kick to your abdomen.

A familiar metallic taste invades your mouth and you spit it out, you weren't surprised when your spit had turned a light shade of red. At this rate Niragi was right. You knew if you didn't do anything you would be the next corpse.

You started to pull yourself up using the wall behind you, you closed your eyes preparing yourself for impact as you see Niragi once again raise his leg.

However impact never came, you allowed yourself to peek through your eyelashes and see Kuina pushing Niragi away.

Despite your blurred vision, you see Chishiya walking towards Niragi, maybe this was the part he broke the rest of Niragis fingers just like Kuina predicted.

Of course, you were met by disappointment when you heard Chishiya begin talking.

"You know Aguni won't like it if you kill three beach members. Especially an executive." Chishiya let out a dark chuckle that made you shiver.

"I don't listen to Aguni. I do what I want. Now move before I tear those condescending eyes of yours from your head." Niragi spat, walking around Kuina towards you.

"You could continue to do whatever it is you're doing. But we both know how stupid it is. Three bodies to dispose of, three stories to lie about, three members dead because of your pettiness? Aguni may be stupid but no one is stupid enough to believe you. Hatter won't like it if your anger ruins his plans."

Yeah and you wouldn't like it if he ruined yours, you thought about how Chishiyas plan would be paused if both me and Kuina died here. That's why he's helping. He always has to benefit from whatever he does. You roll your eyes at the thought despite the searing pain.

You felt relieved when you watch Niragi climb into the car and drive away. You weren't looking forward to a painful walk back to the beach but at least you were alive enough to be able to walk.

Kuina run over to you and helped you stand up.

"Are you okay? You've got to stop getting hurt." Her voice was full of panic.

"Thank you." You gave her the best smile you could and laughed lightly through the pain.

"And Thankyou too." You mumbled to Chishiya as he began walking behind you and Kuina.

'I didn't do anything." He sighs amused.

"Yeah you really didn't, what you did was nothing like what you should be doing right now." Kuinas voice had a unfamiliar anger with it but you knew why.

And so did Chishiya.

Luckily the game hadn't been too far from the beach today which meant that Kuina would be able to help you back and you wouldn't need his help. You didn't want his help.

"You let me think you were dead." You scoffed. Chishiya really was unbelievable.

"I didn't make you think anything you thought that by yourself." He was so right but so wrong.

"You didn't come back and you didn't tell me you were leaving!" You hissed through your clenched teeth.

"The people who needed to know knew. You weren't one of them." He mumbled unbothered.

Kuina gasped at Chishiyas words and you knew she would have something to say and you were about to enjoy it.

"'I NEEDED TO KNOW! IM IN YOUR PLAN! NEXT TIME YOU WANT TO DISAPPEAR LIKE A DEPRESSED LONER FINE GO AHEAD BUT FUCKING TELL ME BECAUSE I SWEAR TO GOD CHISHIYA I WILL SHAVE OFF YOUR UNCONDITIONED BLONDE HAIR! DO YOU UNDERSTAND?!" Kuina screamed not pausing even for a second.

You let out a deep laugh despite the pain roaring in your stomach.

"You'd have to find me first." Chishiya chuckled smugly.

"Oh, and I will." Kuina stated without a doubt.

Chishiya grunted at kunas response, your laughter died down and slowly the world was silent once again. No one else bothered to speak the rest of the short walk back. You wanted to talk to Chishiya but alone.

The beach party was well underway when you arrived back, there was no sign of Niragi which made you feel good, the last thing you wanted was to see him again.

Kuina helped you inside and took you to Ann. She helped you sit on the small bed that had been brought into the room before stepping back out of the way.

"What happened to you?" Ann said amused.

"Niragi." You mumbled.

She made a small displeasing sound before she walked over to you and began to check your stomach.

You winced as her hands pressed along your abdomen but the Pain was bearable.

"Did you cough up any blood?" Ann asks.

"When he first kicked me yes but not since then." You wince again as her fingers move along your stomach.

"I'm not a doctor but you seem okay, he's probably ruptured a minor blood vessel a lot of the time it will heal itself. You haven't coughed up blood since you started walking so unless you cough up anymore don't be too worried. You will have bruising, badly. I can already see it turning purple. It will hurt for a few days, mostly just aches. Take painkillers and lots of rest." Ann smiles at you helping you pull your shirt down.

You nod at her and take the painkillers from the table beside you. "Thank you, Ann."

"Anytime, but please stop getting hurt." She chuckles as you and Kuina leave the room.

"I think I'm going to head to bed." You groan facing Kuina.

She turns and gives you a light hug before backing away. "I'm happy you're okay, do you need help getting to your room?"

"No, go enjoy the party, celebrate for me. No one died today." You nod towards to pool outside.

"Okay. Be safe." she smiles as she walks away.

It doesn't take you long to get back to your room, the pain wasn't bad compared to what you experienced in your club's game.

You took the painkillers Ann had given you and decided to risk taking a short shower.

The water felt amazing as usual, the pain had numbed due to the painkillers.

You sighed happily, today was a good day and this is exactly how you wanted to end it but thoughts about Chishiya crept into your mind more and more every second and you knew that you wouldn't be able to sleep if you didn't have any answers from him.

You quickly finished your shower and threw your hair up. You carefully pulled on some sweatpants and a hoodie. It was going to be cold, especially after a shower.

You decided not to take chances that you wouldn't see Niragi and slipped the small knife into your waistband that you had stolen from Chishiyas' room.

You took a deep breath before leaving your room to look for him.

You knew the best place to find Chishiya would be the roof, the thought of the stairs didn't drive you crazy but you knew the chances he would be there were high.

The stairs seemed to be never-ending and you felt weirdly accomplished when you reached the top, despite the discomfort in your stomach. Although your accomplishment seemed useless when you see Chishiya wasn't on the roof.

You had a quick look down towards the pool but you didn't see him there either.

You groaned at the thought of going back down the stairs but you knew he had to have been in his room.

You walked as quickly as you could back inside, you felt stupid at the anger you had towards the 8 stairs you had to once again force your body to endure but nevertheless you finally made it down to the bottom of them.

You sat on the last step deciding to take a break before you continued your search.

Before the borderlands, before Chishiya you never would have gone through all of this for someone. Especially not some man.. but he was different.

Maybe you were crazy for caring about him, maybe you were insane for thinking he cared about you. But now you know what it feels like to be on the brink of death at every minute you don't want to waste a second. You want Chishiya and deep down he wants you. you think.

You sign at your intrusive thoughts and pull yourself up using the rail on the stairs. Before you could even begin to walk towards Chishiyas's room you see him walking towards you both relief and excitement washed over you and you struggled to keep your smile hidden.

You waited patiently for him to reach you before speaking.

"Can we talk?" You hopefully asked.

"I'm going to the roof." His voice was blunt but your relief grew deeper when you noticed he didn't sound annoyed.

"I don't think I can make it up the stairs again." You whisper, feeling slightly ashamed at your body's continued weakness.

He let out a deep sigh, you followed his movements as he began walking, you knew after 30 seconds of walking with him where he was taking you.

Your smile escaped you when he opened his door for you letting you walk in ahead of him.

You stood awkwardly in the middle of his room not knowing where to sit.

Chishiya really was particular and it wouldn't be a good idea to start the conversation off by annoying him.

"Are you just going to stand there like a statue?" Chishiya chuckled lightly sitting on his bed.

"No, I. I just don't know where to sit." You stuttered, your cheeks growing red.

Even though you were here to get answers you felt comfort being in Chishiyas's presence.

"Sit wherever you'd like too, it already seems you have made yourself familiar with my room." He sighed once again but it seemed as if he didn't mind you had come into his private space and you were thankful for that.

You hastily sat down on the end of the bed.

"You were gone." Your smile had fallen and your cheeks returned to their normal colour as you began speaking.

He simply nods his head and you roll your eyes at his weak response.

"Chishiya, you can't just leave me and not tell me where you're going I was scared for you." You let the words fall out of your mouth regardless of his response.

"Why do you care for someone who doesn't care for you?" He leans forward his eyes glaring into yours.

You scoff lightly at his attempt to avoid his feelings.

"I care for you despite, however, you may feel for me. You told me you would let me care for you, it's hard to do that when I think you're dead."

You watched him as he looked away focusing his eyes on the terrible painting on the hotel wall.

"I wasn't dead, just running errands." He explains and you feel happy that he values you enough to give you answers.

"You helped me today." You exclaim proudly. You knew he did and so did he, there was no way he could escape that.

He paused for a moment, his eyes returning to yours. "What?"

"I was in trouble, you helped me. You only needed Kuina for your plan, that day in my room after we played the hearts game you told me you didn't need me. Therefore you saved me because you wanted to save me." You smile at him and he shakes his head.

"No." His words are blunt and emotionless.

This is the side of Chishiya you hate.

"Then what was it?" You asked quickly. Not wanting him to grow any more irritated.

"Not everything needs an answer." He stands up and walks towards the closet taking out a different white jacket.

You watch him closely as he takes the old jacket off and slides the new one on.

He closes the closet and walks over to the bed, however this time he seems to sit much closer to you.

You stood up and he watched you, you walked around the bed and sat next to him. You smiled at the thought that one day you may be able to get to sit like this and then fall asleep with him.

You decided to do something unusually courageous and you let your hand fall on top of his. At first, his hand moved away but slowly it returned, this time his thumb running against your hand.

You didn't say anything Instead you just sat there. After a while your neck became stiff and you dared to let it fall on Chishiyas shoulder. He surprisingly didn't seem to mind but his hand has moved further away from yours.

"Chishiya?" You called his name softly.

"Hmm." He hummed.

"Do you hate me?" Your voice sounded small.

You felt his shoulders rise every time he took a breath, the perfect rhythm was soothing.

"Your feelings make you seem ridiculously immature, Your ability to get hurt so easily is rather confusing considering you made it out of the tag game fine, Your inability to give up and walk away when I don't care for you is somewhat pathetic, your persistence in being with me or thinking I care for you is quite desperate." He rattled off and you feel small shameful tears soaking your eyelashes. You do not doubt that he notices this too as your breathing quickens.

"So that's a yes?" You sniffle lightly.

"Hate implies that I have emotions towards you which I don't." He responds smugly.

You sit up straight taking your head off his shoulder. let the tears fall silently for a moment before asking your final question. "If you don't have emotions towards me why do you like this with me? I don't understand it. Why do you hold my hand? Why do you help me..." You pull the small blade out of your waistband placing it into his lap before continuing"Why do you give me blades to keep myself safe, why do you drag me out of my bed at crazy times to kiss me on the roof? Why do you mention to Kuina that - "

"Okay." He cuts you off and you know you've overstepped.

"I'm sorry" you whisper the words wishing you could return to laying on him.

"To answer your never-ending list of questions. You are simply convenient. I could go on explaining but that is simply all there is to it." His voice is blunt and hurtful.

You stand up wiping away the stray tears from your face. "It's a shame. It's a shame I can't hate you but I can't. So instead I'll give you all the care I can. You're human you feel, if I took that blade right now and cut you with it you would feel pain. Your face may remain cold but you'd feel it. I may be convenient but I know I'm not nothing to you because if I was I would have been long dead and buried."

You watch as his face hardens. "Okay."

"I'm leaving now, I'm going to my room, to read the book you gave me. The book you wanted me to have because you care about me." You hear him scoff as you walk out of the door but you don't dignify him with a response.

You rush back to your room, missing the safety the blade brought you.

Once you were finally inside you picked up the book Chishiya had given you and threw it against the wall.

How could he? Every single cell in your body wanted to hate him but couldn't. You didn't want to care for him but for some ridiculous reason, you just couldn't stop.

You lay on your bed stressed and angry for hours before you finally fell asleep crying at the thought of Chishiyas's words.

You didn't wake up until late afternoon and when you did there was more noise than ever, the party from last night seemed to have continued into today.

Last night with Chishiya had been one of the best yet one of the worst. His words have never hurt you the way they did last night.

You pushed him to the back of your mind as you threw your clothes on.

Niragi would definitely be around but Aguni wouldn't let him make fights for no reason or at least you hoped.

Today you had one plan. Talk to hatter. Everyone had to play games at the beach but after the continuous playing, you decided you would do the unthinkable. You would ask hatter for a break. Your visa had 20 days left and you could do with missing a few games.

You headed downstairs with determination and see Hatter laying on his regular sun bed.

You took a deep breath before approaching him. "Hatter, can I talk to you?"

"What is it, my loyal comrade!" His voice was much louder than necessary.

"Alone?" You asked. He dropped his smile for a second and then nodded.

You waited until he had begun walking in front of you, and you followed behind him.

He led you to the conference room he had you taken to on the first day.

"What do you need!" He slams his hands on the table and you pause surprised.

"I have 19 days on my visa. I want to have a break from participating in The games for a week. I got hurt badly my last few games and if I don't take time to heal I won't be of any use to anyone." You hesitantly ask, afraid of the madman's response.

"Ah, I see so you want t-" Before he could finish the door swung open and two bodies are dragged into the room.

You notice the shorts of one of the people however some part of you is still surprised when you watch the hoods get pulled off their heads.

Arisu and Usagi.

"Out. We will talk later." Hatter shouts and you rush out of the room.

A few executives enter. Niragi scowls at you as he walks past, pushing you out of his way.

You don't wait around as the door closes. You have to find Kuina and Chishiya.

Now.

[jakesimfromstatefarm]

not jealous | jake sim

summary: jake sim is not a jealous person. at least that's what he tells himself. so why does he find himself going through your phone when a certain "bluejay park" decides to text you?

pairing: jake sim x y/n [ft. mentions of jay park]

genre: angst, fluff 

warnings: angst, cursing (very minimal), one slightly suggestive sentence, jake being cute, some more angst lol, slightly cheesy bc jake’s just too cute ugh

wc: 3.8k

a/n: ok i loved writing this, which is why i went on to almost 4k words LOL oops. but anyways, i love jake a little too much and this type of scenario has been running around in my head for a while now so i decided to put it into words. also i may have created this blog just so i could post this somewhere LMAO anyways yeah this was my first fic so hope you guys enjoyyyy <3

Jake Sim is not a jealous person.

At least that's what he tells himself. To be fair, in his past relationships, he never showed any jealously. Then again, he doesn't know if he can call those relationships, "relationships". Does a fifth grade relationship with a girl who he was once dared to kiss during a game of Truth or Dare in the basement of a classmate's house during their 11th birthday party count? He doesn't remember being jealous when the same girl was later dared to kiss his classmate, Sunghoon. (Funny enough, that's how the two boys came to be best friends 'til this day, but that's a story for another time.) 

But really, Jake doesn't think jealously is one of his traits, even if he's now almost 20 years old without any experience with love other than his current relationship with you and that short-lived romance in the fifth grade. (What was her name again? Jake would have to ask Sunghoon later.)

So he doesn't know what clicked in that brain of his that lead him to this current situation he was in. He doesn't know why he felt a little spark of anger in him when your phone, which you left right next to him on the couch while you went to take a shower, kept buzzing with texts from "bluejay park". He doesn't know why he couldn't kept his eyes distracted from the messages, although your phone was constantly lighting up because whatever it was Jay had to say to you, he would not shut up about it. He doesn't know why he questioned what your relationship with Jay was for a split second.

In fact, you're close with all of Jake's friends. That's one of his favorite things about you, you get along so well with all his friends you might as well replace Jake himself in the friend group. So he doesn't know what tells him to take a little glance at your phone—at the messages.

But he finds himself doing it anyways.

Hearing that the water in the shower was still running (you were always the type to take long showers), he quickly grabs your phone and scrolls through the lock screen just to find that he couldn't even read the messages since you had your notifications set so no one could read them unless the phone was unlocked (darn you and your settings!) Thankfully, Jake knew your passcode––and you knew his too––or he thought he did. Until the iPhone vibrated, telling him the passcode was wrong.

He must've entered it too fast or something. So he tries again.

And again.

And again.

Until the iPhone switches its screen to say: "iPhone is disabled. Try again in 5 minutes."

There's no way. You never change your password. And even if you did, you would tell him—you two even had each other's fingerprints saved into each other's phones in the past (you know, before the world decided that Apple's home button was too lame and decided to just completely get rid of it). If there was an option to save multiple faces for Face ID, you two would be that couple that saved each others faces in your own phones.

That being said, Jake sat there, your phone in hand, frozen. Why was your phone locked? Why was Jay texting you 10 texts per second? Why did he feel guilty about this entire situation?

He hears the shower switch off and in that moment, he swears he feels his heart beat just a little faster. He tells himself there's no way you'll be out before the 5 minutes are up. You followed a really meticulous skincare routine (one that Jake memorized by now) that took an extra 15 minutes of your time after each shower.

"Hey Jake?" Your voice calls out from the tiny bathroom door crack that you left open before you hopped in the shower, "Is my phone out there? Do you mind bringing it to me?"

Fuck.

Jake shifts on the couch. Taps his foot on the ground. Returns your phone to its original spot. Clears his throat.

"Don't you want to get dressed first?" he calls back, quite timidly.

He can hear you stop moving around in the bathroom. Probably telling yourself what an odd response that was. To be fair, it was an odd question, considering the fact that you two have been together for so long, it’s not like he hasn’t seen you undressed before...intentionally or not. 

Next thing he knows, the steam is rolling out of the bathroom door and you're stepping out in your towel, eyebrows raised.

"If you didn't want to get up from the couch, you could've just said so, you lazy butt," you smirk at him as you walk towards him and the couch, leaving a faint trail of water drops behind you. Jake's eyes follow your figure as you go to grab your phone and lift the screen towards yourself.

That's when he freezes. You do too.

You cock your head, as if asking yourself why it was disabled. He can hear the gears in your head turning.

"Jake, did you try to unlock my phone?"

He runs through all the possible excuses he could blurt out. Come on Jake, think of something! But he knows he can't lie to you.

Too many beats of silence pass by.

"Maybe," he finally says—or more like murmurs. He looks up to you like a child looking up at their mom, who just them caught stealing a cookie from the cookie jar. To his surprise, you don't show any hint of anger. A flash of confusion—and is that worry he sees?—crosses your face for a split second before you shrug and turn towards your room to change, dropping the subject. It was natural for you two to use each other's phones anyways. So then why did you have that look of worry?

Jake knows you well, a little too well. But that's what you love about him. He can easily read all your emotions. One of the many things he picked up from dating you for almost two years now. But why would you care if he tried to get into your phone? Why would that worry you? All the possibilities run through head and his own worry begins to increase. He trusts you. He does.

So then why does the thought bother him throughout the entire day? Why does he bring it up during dinner later that night, when you're both cuddled on your sofa, slurping take-out ramen while rewatching your favorite k-drama under the thick blanket that you always keep in your living room for nights like these?

"Huh? Of course I've heard from Jay today, we had that conversation about that stupid meme you boys kept laughing about in the groupchat we're all in, didn't we?" You answer him when he asks if you've heard from Jay lately. You sit up from your warm spot under Jake's arm to put your empty bowl on the coffee table in front of you. When you lean back, you look up at him,

"Why do you ask?"

"Oh, it's nothing, just wondering," he says, avoiding your eyes by keeping his own trained on the series currently playing on your TV. This would be your third time rewatching this series together. He would never complain to you though, he knows how much you love it and if he were being honest, he was secretly attached to the characters—not that he would ever tell you, he would never hear the end of it from you and the boys.

"You're being weird. Just tell me, or did you forget that I can practically read your mind," you say with a giggle and shove to his side, the one you were currently warmly cuddled into. Jake wasn't the only one who learned how to read emotions; you could read him just as well as he could read you. And like you, that's one of the many things he loved about you. But maybe not in this case.

He toyed around with the contents inside his ramen bowl with his chopsticks.

"I just..." God, how does he word this? Why was he having trouble explaining it? You were the easiest person to talk to. To him, you were the only person he could tell everything to.

"Jaywastextingyouabunchearlier," he blurts out quickly, but not quickly enough for you to miss it.

He feels you shift under his arm. He feels the air in the room shift. Tension.

"What?" Now you're sitting upright, legs criss-crossed in front of you on the couch but turned, so your body is completely facing him. He mirrors you, sitting up to put his ramen bowl next to yours on the surface, but he stays facing the TV.

"Your phone kept going off because of him when you were showering," he says with a little more confidence. But inside, he was nervous as hell, the same nervous as when he asked you out for the first time many moons ago. But it's too late to back out now, he brought it up first, anyways. Guess we're having this conversation now, good going Jake!

"Is that why you tried unlocking my phone earlier? I mean I thought you were just trying to leave selfies on my phone like you always do but you were trying to read my texts?" You question, slightly raising your soft voice. He doesn't know how to react, he hates confrontation.

"It wasn't like that, Jay just kept spamming you and like I—why was he even texting you in the first place? Then your phone got disabled because you changed your password, which you never do by the way, so I–"

"I changed it because my little sister kept getting into my phone when I went to visit my family yesterday! Did you really think I was hiding something from you? You know I can text whoever I want, right? You don't own me."

Okay so now he's managed to make you angry. Good going Jake, part 2!

"Okay but what does Jay need from you so bad that he has to send you like 50 messages at once?" He's standing now. So are you, eyebrows furrowed together as you collect your bowls from the table.

Standing there, bowls in hand, you say, "Jake, that's none of your business! It wasn't even that big of a deal, I don't know why you felt the need to nosy around."

"Well, if he's texting you non-stop, then obviously it's a big deal! We wouldn't even be having this conversation if you would just tell me what you guys were talking about," he murmurs back, eyes narrowing. You scoff as you trail into your kitchen. He follows behind and stops at the other side at your kitchen island as you place the dirty dishes into the sink.

"No, we're having this conversation because you obviously don't trust me! It doesn't matter what we were talking about, it doesn't matter who I was texting! I could be texting your mother and I shouldn't have to tell you what we were talking about! That's why we're having this conversation," you say as you turn back to face him from the other end.

He hates this. He hates fighting with you (which is a very, very rare occasion). He hates that you think he doesn't trust you. He hates his insecurity eating at him, telling him to keep questioning you on why you and Jay were talking in the first place. He was aware that you were close with his friends, but it wasn't until the texts he realized just how close you are with them. It's not that he didn't trust you, he just didn't know how to act when it came to you and other guys. God knows how he got lucky enough to meet you, let alone date you, so the thought of him losing you to someone else actually terrified him. Not only were you his first real relationship, but he wanted you to be his first and only one in life. You were it for him.

"Why did he text you." He deadpans from his side of the kitchen.

You scoff with a hint of exasperation. "You're kidding me."

You stare at him. He stares back, quirking an eyebrow, as if restating the same question back, as if testing you.

You're fuming now. Why was he making it so hard? Why was he doubting you? Out of frustration, you start laughing, which scares him. That can't be good.

"Fine. You wanna know so bad? Take a look,"  you're one tone level away from screaming as you take your phone out of your pocket, unlock it, and open up your conversation with "bluejay park", sliding the phone across the island to reach him.

Jake stares at the phone which now lies there, unlocked, facing him. Isn't this what he wanted? It is, right? That's why he started this dreaded argument with you in the first place.

Then why does he feel so fucking awful?

He looks back up at you, to see you sighing and looking up at the ceiling, as if trying to force your forming tears back into your eyes.

Yup, he feels horrible.

"Happy? Happy to know we were just trying to plan a surprise birthday party for you but you and your jealously just had to know huh, Jake?" You quickly state, voice cracking, as you tried not to choke up. You weren't sad that he found out about the surprise. You were sad that it felt like he didn't trust you. That he thought you were the type of person to do god knows what behind his back. You hated the feeling of not being trusted. Especially by Jake, of all people.

"Fuck."

Jake's face (and heart) falls with the most broken expression you've ever seen. But you're too sad, angry, tired (a mix of all?) to care. Your only goal right now is to not let him see you cry.

You hurry past him, across your apartment, and into your bedroom, slamming the door behind you, leaving behind a shocked, and regretful, Jake.

His heart shrinks when he hears the door slam shut and a little more when he looks down at the still unlocked phone in front of him. He didn't have the heart in him to look at it anymore. Of course he trusted you, he knew what you said was the truth.

He mentally screams at himself for assuming the worst––for thinking that you, a literal angel, would betray him.  First, he thought he was losing you to someone else. Now, he was afraid he just lost you through his own actions. 

He hesitantly sulks over to your door, softly knocking when he reaches it.

"Y/N?"

No response.

"Y/N, I'm so sorry. I didn't know, I let my—”

"Jake just please leave me alone for now," he hears you painfully say from a distance, meaning you're on your bed. He knows the door's unlocked—the lock on your door hasn't been working for a long time now, despite the many times he tells you to talk to your landlord about it. But he doesn't find it in him to open it. He knows he messed up. If he saw you in there right now, crying, he wouldn't know what to do. He wouldn't know what he would to do himself, knowing he was the reason behind your tears.

He nods in silence, knowing you can't see him, but does so anyways and returns to his spot on the couch. He could leave right now, go back to the dorm with the rest of the guys, let you have your space like you wanted. But his heart hurts at the idea of leaving you sad, angry, or a combination of both. He can't leave this unresolved. He fucked up, he has to fix it.

And so he sits on your couch for another hour. The clock on the wall behind him continues to tick as the silent tension in your apartment continues to grow. When it hits 11pm and he's sure you've slumbered off into sleep, he quietly enters your room.

He can see your figure in the dark, your back facing the door as you're curled up into yourself under the comforter. He feels his heart drop a little more when he imagines you crying in that position from earlier. He slowly peels the comforter open and gets into his side of the bed, careful not to bother your sleeping figure.

Laying there, staring up at the ceiling, he's never felt more like a stranger in your bed. It's not that he hasn't slept over before, god knows he's probably slept over at your place more than he has in his own bed. But right now, in this moment, he just felt awful. Like he didn't deserve to be in such close proximity to you. How could he be deserving? He violated your privacy, made you feel like you weren't trusted, doubted your relationship.

These thoughts run through Jake's head as he stares up at your ceiling fan, wishing he could turn back time to a few hours ago, before he checked your phone, before he let his insecurities get to the best of him.

You can feel the dip he makes in the bed behind you when he gets in. Of course you're not asleep. There's no way sleep could reach you when you had the recent events constantly replaying in your head like a broken record.

You knew Jake with all your heart. You didn't have to look at him to know he was probably laying there, hurt, staring up at the ceiling, drafting what to say once you wake up—or once he knows you're actually still awake.

You decide to break the tension by turning to lay on your other side, facing him.

You were wrong. Thanks to the little sliver of moonlight shining through your sheer curtains, you can see him, now laying on his side, already looking at you with so much regret in his eyes. You can almost hear the cracks in your heart physically forming.

His eyes widen when he realizes you're still awake. He opens his mouth to say something, but not before you quickly shift over to his side of the bed and embrace him in a tight hold, burying your face into his chest. Without any hesitation, he returns the gesture, arms holding your body as close to him as possible. As if once he let go, he'd lose you forever.

He lets out a sigh of relief as he breathes you in. He didn't even know he was holding his breath all this time.

"I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry Y/N," he mutters into your hair. He feels his hoodie getting wet from where you buried your face. He pulls you closer, if that's even possible, feeling his own eyes heating up with sadness. He would never forgive himself for making you feel this way.

"You know I trust you right? Please know that. I shouldn't have assumed the worst when I saw your phone. I...I let my insecurities get to the best of me."

You move your head from its home on his chest to look up at him, as if asking him to elaborate. This was new to you, you didn't know he held insecurities in your relationship. But it wasn't because of you, no, you were his entire world. Losing you meant losing everything.

Jake's never been the best at saying his feelings. That's why it took him so long (with the help of his six best friends) to finally confess how he felt about you. He was afraid of letting people in if they could easily walk out. Maybe that's why he never let anyone into his life before you. But oh, were you an exception. The second he met you, he knew he was fucked. But thank god he did, because thanks to you, he's been able to be more open, more vulnerable. He's able to talk to you about anything and everything. He doesn't have that same fear of losing people anymore, not when he has you in his life to reassure him every step of the way. But right now, in this moment, he doesn't know how to tell you that his new fear was, in fact, just losing you.

The sheer idea of you not being a part of his life anymore terrified him. 

"I hope you know you're never going to lose me Jake, if that's what you're insecure about," you softly mutter as you wrap your free arm that's not stuck in between both your bodies around him to gently play with the ends of his hair. It's as if you could read his mind, he loves that you know him so well.

"It just sucks that you could even think I would ever do something as awful as what you were assuming...with one of your closest friends nonetheless," you continue.

"I know. I know, and I feel terrible. I'm so sorry. I know you would never do anything remotely close to that, and I know you would never intentionally try to keep anything from me," he sighs. He shifts so he can lie down on his back, bringing you with him to lie on his chest, never letting you go once. "It's just...I just don't know what I'd do if I ever lost you Y/N. Everyday, I ask myself what heroic thing I must've done in my past life to deserve this life with you and I can't help but think you could just as easily be stripped away from me."

As much as your heart breaks listening to him rant, you feel your love for him grow even more. You knew how hard it was for him to put his true emotions into words, and him telling you this reminded you how much trust he had in you.

After some moments of silence, moments of him drawing random shapes onto your back, moments of you two just holding each other like it was the end of the world, you speak up.

"I love you. I'm sorry for making you doubt yourself—"

"No, it's not your fault, I can't help but think things like that. I just don't know what I did to deserve you, and I know that I need to be mo–"

"Babe let me finish," you say with a little giggle in your tone. He immediately stops and mutters a little "sorry". How cute, you tell yourself.

"I was gonna say," you look back up at him so you're making direct eye contact now. "You're the only one that's ever on my mind, Jake. I can't help the way you think, but I can assure you that there is no one else I would rather be with. And I mean that for the rest of life."

You snuggle back into the comfortable hoodie he's currently wearing (you make a mental note to yourself to steal it from him later) and decide to ease the tension,

"So you're stuck with me for life, sorry to inform you Mr. Sim."

Jake lets out a laugh, looking down at you to see you returning his smile with a cheeky one.

"I love you. So much," he says so sincerely, so genuinely, that you almost tear up again from how content you were. Now you were asking yourself, what did you do to deserve him?

Jake Sim is not a jealous person.

No, he just loves you.

A lot.

[taechaos]

Blackmail

pairing: bully!Jungkook x nerdy!fem!Reader

genre: drabble, smut, college au

synopsis: Jimin offers you information on Jungkook, but your friendship is misconstrued by Jungkook who ends it singlehandedly with one video of you professing your love to him between moans.

warnings: dubcon, fingering, degredation, mild squirting, manipulation

word count: 2.8k

a/n: jealous kook doesn't realize he's jealous. this part is a bit extreme, so beware ><

One doesn't come across someone like Jungkook every day. It's fate that you met him in your first year of college, extending to your second where he grows closer to you; fair, it's clear that he only intends to use you for his academic success, but you've deluded yourself into thinking you're in love with each other. Growing up, you only had your dysfunctional family to teach you about how to love, how to think. As long as Jungkook needs you, he will love you, and you’re willing to do anything to be with him, only him. You need him to live.

Birds sing in the background as you lay on your stomach on the grass of the yard across the campus. It’s sunny and breezy, the perfect spring day as you work on Jungkook’s research paper due next month. You compiled multiple credible sources in a separate file to create an outline for his essay the moment he forwarded the assignment to you. You want him to praise you, pet your hair, kiss your cheek for starting so early so he can turn it in before anyone else. He would be proud, flashing you his pearly whites and adoring eyes. The reward motivates you to work harder and you’re relentlessly skimming through articles while counting down the minutes of Jungkook's lecture. He'll be outside with his friends in 7 minutes.

With a bad childhood, you don’t care to befriend many people. You only have a few friends to keep you company and you’re socially awkward outside of that group. You’re content, so you steer clear of boys who try to sabotage your relationship with Jungkook. Jimin, however, doesn’t get the memo.

Typing away on your laptop, a shadow looms over you to give you a break from the sunlight. You glance up and stop swinging your legs absentmindedly when you recognize the shadow; it’s a boy with frames and a tight collar adorning his neck.

Park Jimin is a typical nerd whereas you’re more of a closeted nerd. When you’re in love, you usually put more effort into your appearance to impress the one on your mind, but that doesn’t work with Jungkook. It’s always other men giving you their attention through second glances, and that includes Jimin.

“What do you want?” you rudely greet. Jimin is ruthless with his attempts at pursuing you; he’s the perfect gentleman, and often volunteers to do group tasks with you. He is never mean to anyone, and has a squeaky clean reputation, but his only flaw is that he can’t take a hint. You don't bother being friendly to him because you don't want friends.

"I want to know why you look so happy," he bends over to curiously glance at your screen, "while doing homework?"

You slam the monitor closed to stop his ogling. "You wouldn't get it. And stop watching me," you sternly say.

"What's your secret?" he grins and sits down on the grass next to you with crossed legs. His upper body serves as a shade and you stop squinting.

"There is no secret, I was just in a good mood until you came along." You're not upset, but you don't want to lead Jimin on and he won't leave unless you blow him off.

"Thinking of Jungkook?" he teases with a mischievous smile.

"Are you stalking me?"

"No, you're just too obvious," he chuckles, but the sound is strained. You don't notice his melancholy as he continues, "You were doing his homework again?"

You shift on your propped elbows a little uncomfortably. Jimin doesn't need to know what you do in your free time. "Yes," you answer anyway.

"You know he has daddy issues?"

Your eyes round as your discomfort dissipates instantly; he's piqued your interest. "Really?"

"Yeah, he has a tough exterior but he's actually a real softie."

An involuntary smile carves on your face before it falters as you ask, "How do you know this?"

"We went to high school together. I can tell you some stories if you want," he boasts when he realizes he has your attention. The context makes his heart sink, but when he imagines your lovesick grin is directed at him, it fills him with joy.

"Tell me, tell me! Please."

"Weeell," he draws with a lopsided grin, "don't tell him I told you this, but he used to hate girls. I don't know if he still does, but back then he couldn't even stand talking to a girl."

"Why?" your eyes are wide with interest as you whisper.

He shrugs, "No idea, but he hit a girl once when she wouldn't stop clinging onto him. Not like drop-kick her," he laughs, "he just shoved her on the ground. Be careful with him, okay? He can be very aggres-"

"You guys forming a nerd club now?"

You gasp when you hear Jungkook's voice. When you look up at him, he's almost glaring as his eyes flicker from you to Jimin. You're gleeful at his approach, because he never comes to you unless it's about a new assignment. It flutters your heart to see him without any papers in his hand.

You don't take his subtle insult to heart as you immediately respond, "No, we were just talking. H-Hi."

"Pull down your skirt, you look like a whore. I can see your panties all the way from the gates," he seethes in distaste. You instantly sit up with a blush and tug your skirt down to your knees. He looks back at Jimin who's glaring at him under his lashes, "The fuck's your deal?"

"Nothing," Jimin grits. Although he hates Jungkook's guts, he's too smart to fight a lost cause. He has his own set of muscles, but it isn't enough. It's best to accept defeat now.

"Did you start on the paper?" Jungkook asks you.

"Yes, I-"

"Good," he cuts you off and crouches to peck your lips by pulling the back of your neck. You're stunned when he pulls away and nonchalantly walks off to his friends.

Jimin follows him with his eyes and mutters under his breath, "douche."

Your heart is racing and you clamp a hand over your chest as a lovestruck smile spreads across your face. You know this is your end of the bargain, but it never fails to shrivel you up in delight.

"Are you two dating?" he mumbles as he pulls on the grass with a pout.

"Something like that," you exhale as you caress your lips.

It’s become routine to link up with Jimin where he reminisces his high school memories and you don’t doubt a single word he says unless it sheds a bad light on Jungkook. You’ve learned so much about him in the past few days, and you’re eager to know more. He likes energy drinks to this day, he was athletic in school and often got into fights. He began interacting with girls when he entered college, as Jimin says, “only for a quick fuck.”

Though it hurts Jimin that you only talk to him for information on Jungkook, he can’t bring himself to care when you hang onto every word he says with a glint in your eyes like you’re doing now.

You're sitting in the bustling cafeteria across from Jimin, sipping on a homemade strawberry lemonade from your thermos, and you don't notice Jungkook glancing at your table every now and then. It is the first time he doesn't feel your heavy gaze on him. Jimin does notice however, because he is facing him every time he receives a threatening ferile look.

"He could become a lawyer with how much he blackmailed the teachers to give him a good grade," Jimin tells you as he glances back and forth between you and Jungkook. "He's quite dangerous, you know. He's manipulative, a liar and has no empathy-"

"He's clever," you counter defensively, "he knows how to get around the system."

He makes a disgruntled noise from the back of his throat with a grimace. "I don't think the judge would listen to that."

You laugh at his comparison of the conversation to a court hearing. Jimin can be funny sometimes, and you have to admit that he's not that bad of a friend either. You've come to enjoy his company without the topic of Jungkook the past few days, but talking about him is always appreciated.

"Are you the judge then?" you cheekily ask.

"I might as well be, since I'm not biased like a certain someone," he teases with a grin.

"A lawyer has to see the bright side of things, but if I was the prosecutor, I wouldn't tell you that your lecture is in five minutes."

His smile falters as his eyes widen; you remember his schedule? He ran late for a lecture yesterday, but he’s in disbelief that you reminded him today. "Th-Thanks," he breathes as he packs up his belongings before giving you a curt, shy nod. His heart pounds when he walks away, and he resists the urge to look back at you.

It's a good idea, because that's when Jungkook settles down on his former seat.

"I'm thinking you might be forgetting who you belong to," he starts as he gets comfortable on the stiff chair. You instantly smile at his appearance.

"No, I'm very well aware of it." Your tone is high-pitched in excitement.

"It wasn't a question."

"Oh..."

“You talk more than you work,” he observes with a quirk of his brow. “One would think another nerd would be a better influence on you.”

“I work at night,” you defend worriedly, “I promise I’m not slacking off. Can I get a kiss please?”

You’re so adorable when you’re needy. He hides a smirk with a bite of his lip; he thrives from your loyalty to him, but he knows Jimin is a threat to it. He wants you to stop talking to that freak, and he justifies it as a concern for his grades. “I’ll kiss you when you’re not procrastinating. Do you think you deserve even a pat on the head?”

“I do! I’m halfway done with the research paper, please Jungkook,” you beg pathetically, “I-I’ll show it to you, I have it with me right now.” You start unzipping the case of your laptop until he holds up a hand for you to stop.

“You’re going to read it to me, but not here.”

When he stands up, so do you in a haste. He leaves the cafeteria with you hot on his tail, almost jogging when his strides are much bigger compared to yours. You resemble a clueless lamb following a lion, desperate to hold his claws with your hooves. You don’t know where he’s leading you as you walk down the halls until you stop in front of a door. You’re about to freak out when he swings open the door, but you realize the lecture room is empty.

“You want me to read here?” you inquire meekly. It’s a little intimidating to do it in complete silence, because you have a tendency to stutter when reading out loud and you don’t want to embarrass yourself in front of Jungkook where no one can talk over you. 

“Yup.” He snatches your laptop case from your hand with the handle, and roughly opens it before placing the device on the front row wooden desk. It’s a large hall, and the desks stretch out to the half of the room. You’re feeling stage fright for no particular reason; it feels like reverse claustrophobia. “Open the document and give me your phone.”

You don’t question him and hand in your phone before going through your files on the laptop. Jungkook is looking through your contacts and grins when he finds himself saved as: the love of my life ♡. Jimin is saved by his name, and he finds his WhatsApp through his information below. Once he opens your empty chat with him, he switches to your camera and pushes your back so you’re bent over the desk. You sharply inhale and ask, “Kook?” 

“Don’t get distracted now,” he lightly scolds and starts pulling down your pants. You stopped wearing skirts after the incident a week ago to appease him. You stammer with your back arched, and your ass is on full display for him. It’s humiliating. “Start reading.”

“H-Humans are- Jungkook?” you warily look back at Jungkook when he slides the slit of your panties to the side.

“Are you slacking off?” he condescends. 

You bite your lip anxiously and continue reading, “Humans are social animals that n-need social interaction,” Jungkook spits in his hand, “the extent of our social relationships is the most important predictor of h-happiness.” You squeal when you feel wet fingers graze your folds, but you know better than to stop and ask what he’s doing.

“Continue,” he coaxes softly as he brushes his fingertips over your pussy lips. 

“Um, o-one of the main reasons our brains have developed the way they have is so that we can be social,” you speak between shaky breaths. Your cheeks are tinted crimson with embarrassment from his touches; why is he pleasuring you when he specifically told you, you didn’t deserve any? “Being happy a-all of the time is neither possible nor desirable.”

“Is it now?” He slips a finger in your cunt and you involuntarily let out a cry as you push your body forward. You don’t notice him holding up your phone behind you while slowly sliding his finger in and out of you. His saliva is mixing with your arousal as you answer in a gasp, “Yes.”

“Tell me why.”

“B-Because negative feelings are natural. When it comes to negative feelings, the most important thing to remember is to learn,” you pause to exhale with quivering lips, “to control certain potentially harmful thoughts.” You whine his name when another finger is added to your heat. You’re moving your hips back and forth until he slaps your wet folds as a warning. “Sorry,” you peep and continue in a breath, “Happiness all of the time entails epistemic irrationality.”

It’s difficult to keep your eyes open when you just want to indulge in his thrusts, but you’re encouraged to stop reading when he doesn’t comment on your moans. His pace is quickening and you chase his fingers with your hips, cum dripping down his wrist as you mewl.  

“You enjoying yourself, whore?”

You nod and whimper, “So much.” You’re clutching the edge of the desk as he fingers you with fervor.

“And you're my girl?” 

“Yes, all yours, I love you so much,” you pant, not stopping for a moment to question his words. He has a full view of your sopping wet cunt on the camera, and he lightly blows on you, making you shiver. He’s recording you confess your love for him while getting fingered.

“Only me?” he presses.

“Only you, Jungkook, I love you more than anything,” you slur as you start to feel a knot in your stomach.

“Then pee.”

“Wh-What?”

“Touch your clit and pee.” He removes his fingers from your clenching hole and takes a step back. “Prove your love to me.”

You mourn the loss of his hand while staring wide-eyed at the floor. You’re contemplating his demand as your hand slowly reaches down to your clit. Is he asking you to squirt? Your breathing is shallow as you near your climax, and you still don’t know if you’ll go through with his requirement.

It drips out in tiny drops as you come undone, moaning as clear liquid spills out of you for only a few seconds. 

“Good girl, my good little girl,” Jungkook whispers as he intently watches you humiliate yourself in the name of love. You’re twitching and trembling in shame when he stops recording you and sends it to Jimin without a second’s waste. “Are you okay, baby?”

You hum with a pout as you collect yourself by standing up straight, a sway in your posture. 

“Give me your panties, you’ve made a mess on the floor,” he chastises as he holds out a hand. You slip and step out of them before giving it to him. In return, he passes your phone before feigning a gasp, “Shit, I think I sent Jimin a video of you when I was trying to forward it to my phone.”

Your mouth falls open as heat consumes your entire being. “H-Huh?” Tears brim in your eyes almost instantly; your heart is pounding from anxiety.

“How will you ever look at him now,” he empathizes with a fake frown. “He must think of you as such a slut now.”

“Let me delete it,” you panic as you open your phone. “Wh-Where is it?”

He motions you to give him the phone and opens WhatsApp after. “He’s already seen it.” There are two blue ticks under the message.

“No, no, no,” you pull your hair in agony with a whimper. You quickly put your pants back on and cry as you do so.

“I guess that’s the end of your friendship,” he raises his eyebrows to himself without a hint of sympathy.

“What do I do?!” you wail and fling your hands in stress.

“Avoid him. I’ll make sure he won’t leak it.”

He steps forward to lean in your face intimidatingly. “And don’t talk to him ever again.”

You don’t exactly have a choice now, do you? 

[bontenten]

Sleeping Beauty

Pairing: Shirabu x f!reader WC: 5.6k Genre/Warnings: smut, fairy tale retelling, incest, dubcon/noncon, drugs (sleeping pill), somnophilia, abusive past relationship, implied rape (not Shirabu), panic attack, victim-blaming, hero-complex with a bit of god-complex, hints of yandere, uhh medical malpractice, Shirabu’s bangs

Summary: The real story of Sleeping Beauty is anything but beautiful. Shirabu will do everything he can to keep you in a safe haven where you can freely dance with your prince once upon a dream.

A/N: This is a part of the whorehouse intoxicated collaboration, rest of the pieces of this toxic journey can be found here! Thank you Ria and Angel for helping beta <3 Love you both so much.

Unofficial bgm: Once Upon a Dream & Once Upon a December 

"You'll never wash me from you," he sneers, pulling you back by a handful of hair. You feel a blanket of pain shoot across your scalp. "You'll never really get away. Time to wake the fuck up."

"G-get away from me!" 

You thrash and kick your legs wildly hoping something will land. The moment you hear a pained grunt and feel his grip loosen, you scramble up to your feet and run. Your shoes grate against wet cement as you take off. Your heartbeat pounds in your ears as you will your legs forward one after another. The caw of birds seem to act as a beacon leading you through the twists and turns of the terrain.

A left turn here, two blocks straight. Past the corner store and beyond the stoplight. Three blocks. Right turn. Two Blocks. Five steps away. Four...Three..Two...Safety...

----

"In the forest, the princess played with a lot of animal friends. She grew up there in the cottage with three fairies looking after her."

Thunder claps and lightning strikes outside.

"It's so loud Kenjirou-nii!" you cry, burying yourself into Shirabu's arms.

"Shh, I'm here," Shirabu coos, rocking you back and forth until your sobs subside. "One day, the princess was singing with the songbirds..."

Shirabu begins to recount the fairytale of Sleeping Beauty to you, slowly easing your mind away from the turbulence outside.

"Do you think you can sleep now?"

You shake your head and jump again when the thunder claps over the roof of the house.

"It's okay, I'm right here. Big brother’s always going to protect you."

"Like the prince protecting the princess?"

"Yes, exactly. You're always my princess, now go to sleep. I'll wake you when the sun's up.”

After a while, you calm down and slowly drift into sleep with your breaths evening out. Shirabu pulls the covers over both of you and enters sleep as well.

The winds continued to howl outside the window...the branches tapping...tapping against the window...tap...tapping…

----

Shirabu Kenjirou opens his eyes. He had just fallen asleep while studying for the third time that night. There is no use staying at the library if he is going to treat it as a hotel; he’ll be better off going home first. He yawns and stretches his neck, then packs his bags to return to his apartment. There are few students left in the building at this ungodly hour. Dark clouds loom overhead and the air is filled with the pitter patter of autumn rain hitting cement. Shirabu zips up his coat, opens his umbrella, and walks into the dark.

You would have been so frightened by this sort of weather, whimpering under your blankets, counting sheep with shaky breaths. Just like how you did in that dream of his earlier.

While growing up, Shirabu hadn't cared all that much about anything else considering he spent most of his time with his studies or playing volleyball. Although there was you, his little sister, he figured you had your little bubble anyway. But on a stormy night, you teetered down the hall after finding your parent’s room locked. Afraid and sleepy, you looked for comfort elsewhere and arrived at Shirabu’s room.

Shirabu had been most irritated and decided to shoo you out with strings of curses and profanities, but he couldn’t. The sight of your form huddled right outside his bedroom, with young eyes pleading for him took hold of a bit of humanity in Shirabu’s heart. So, he let you into his room, a safe haven, and eventually a world that was composed of only the two of you against the rest of the world.

Shirabu has known for a long time that you are the most brilliant, precious, and purest thing he’ll ever encounter. Always perfect. Forever unsullied. 

There are many things that Shirabu wants to shield you from. If he can secure one more hour of innocence, one more day, one lifetime, he’ll do so without a moment of hesitation. The real world is unlike the fairy tales that you hear about while growing up. 

The real story of Sleeping Beauty is anything but beautiful. There isn’t a handsome prince the princess meets in a forest. No color changing cake. No kiss of love. In the real story, the princess is put into an endless slumber and has her virginal body taken by some unknown beast of a king, used like a rag for his carnal pleasure. When he leaves, the sleeping girl is then forgotten like trampled daisies under the hooves of horses. And she will wake to find her womb bulged with bastard life as a result of the damnation. The stretches clawing around the navel as permanent reminders that nothing will wash him from her.

The real world is dark. Horrible. Wretched. Dirty. Filled with suffering. That is why he, Shirabu Kenjirou, responds to the call to action and enters a life of service. In his heart he yearns to save and help, even if just a little, by becoming a prince with a white coat. He will not give up trying to salvage pieces of humanity he’ll touch, and in the process, carve out a haven, a little forest with a cottage, for his dearest sister to safely live in.

It has been a while since he last heard from you. Partly his own fault, really. Ever since Shirabu entered university and then medical school, the number of times you two would meet up dwindled. The hours on the phone became texts and soon after, communication vanished into mostly silence.

You are in university now, grown up and stepping into the real world, but that doesn't mean you are no longer his little sister. And because you are the one and only, Shirabu feels that he should try to do a better job as an older brother and check-in with you to see how you are doing. So, Shirabu takes out his phone that’s still on silent after studying.

27 missed calls from Sister 

Shirabu pauses in his tracks and returns the call. Cars zoom by on the streets while he waits for the line to connect. 

He was right, you must have been frightened.

The first call doesn’t connect, so Shirabu immediately tries the second time. You pick up on the third attempt.

"It's me, I'm so sorry I didn't pick up earlier."

"K-Kenjirou-nii..." your voice weakly translates over the speaker. 

Shirabu presses the phone closer to his ear and turns up the volume. "Where are you now," he demands. "At school?"

"...Your place..." Your voice sounds so dangerously faded, like petals beaten to the ground from the rain.

Shirabu bolts. His apartment is just a couple blocks away. Around the corner just up ahead. Shirabu makes a sharp turn and splashes through a puddle. 

"Stay...on the phone with me," he urges, paying no mind to his soaked shoes and socks.

You nod in understanding, as if he’ll hear your action.

"I'm almost there okay, almost."

Shirabu isn’t lying. A few moments later you hear the frantic footsteps coming closer to you. The stomping noises make your skin crawl, but the familiar face of your brother melts those fears away. He appears with his wet bangs stuck to his face and his shoulders heaving up and down. It’s him, your niichan, your prince finally here.

You scramble up and dive into his open arms, in relief that you are safe at last, as you finally allow tears to mix with rain.

"I was so scared. I missed you so much, Kenjirou-niichan," you sob into Shirabu's wet coat. "Where were you, where were you?"

"I'm sorry. I'm here now, I'm sorry," Shirabu apologizes, "Let's go inside first, alright? We’re both drenched.”

----

Under the bright lights of the living room, Shirabu gets a better look at you. You catch his discerning eyes studying you up and down, visually tracing the markers of your demise. That’s when you crack.

“Kenjirou-nii...the real world, the world is a horrible place. I trusted him, you know? I trusted that man.”

Foolish and stupid, Shirabu wants to say. It’ll be easy to simply yell at you.

Shirabu is not someone without a temper. He was quite known for it back in his high-school days. The bruises, the scars that did not heal well. Shirabu reminds himself to keep his composure, especially in front of you. He’s to be a doctor. He’s to be a protector, a savior. And with the training he already has so far, Shirabu knows he’s already as good as any board certified, licensed white-robed saint. He just needs to do what he’s meant to do. Heal. Clean. Purify.

After listening to your brief tale, Shirabu tells you not to worry about anything else tonight other than take a hot shower and get some rest. He gives you a reassuring smile and sends you off to the bathroom with towels and a large t-shirt.

While you wash-up and lose your thoughts piecing together the messy events of the night, Shirabu paces in the living room after he changes his own wet clothes. Nevermind the medical books he still needs to pour over, all Shirabu wants to do right now is track down the culprit and stick a scalpel through his socket. No, that’s just too easy. That bastard deserves something much more horrible, a slow and patient torture, a death within grasp but just out of reach. As if agreeing with Shirabu’s thoughts, your phone on the coffee table lights up. Shirabu picks up the device and watches the notifications pop-up.

Shirabu sees an unknown number call you. He doesn’t pick up, letting the phone ring while he reads the numbers across the screen and commits them to memory. The phone calls stop and an onslaught of texts follow; some coherent and others far from decipherable. There are messages of broken apologies and confessions of persistent love. Requests for you to go back to him. Shirabu scoffs at the language.

Shirabu continues to wait with impassive eyes, but the tight death grip around the device gives away the boiling rage beneath his skin. How dare the man behind that accursed number treat you, his little sister and princess, in such a foul manner. This beast who stole from you. Who is the reason behind the tainting of your now sullied innocence. 

Finally after a few minutes of silence, the screen lights up with a series of curses and condemnation that show the man’s true colors. A morphed beast due to your lack of response. Shirabu scrolls through the list of notifications again with impassive eyes, but the tight death grip around the device gives away the boiling rage beneath his skin. 

"You will pay," Shirabu seethes, taking a knife from the kitchen and ramming the sharp end straight into the device glass. The phone buzzes desperately and goes dark. You have no use for that phone anymore after all of this anyway, and the cursed number is already memorized by Shirabu for his own purposes.

----

Shirabu’s room is tidy. The two bookshelves on either side of the table are filled with books, photos, and many other accolades. That’s your older brother alright: perfect, proper, always right. Always right about everything, except one thing. The world you know really isn’t the wonderland he told you about growing up. Not at all. 

You bury your face into Shirabu's pillows and will yourself to sleep. You are safe here in his bed. It’s a haven...safely tucked in a forest. You are in a forest. The trees and the breeze. Songbirds are singing. 

You can dance here, twirl about...safe...free…

The trees melt.

Birds squawk and screech, scampering away…

Ink engulfs you....swallowing you whole

Falling...falling…

"You'll never wash me from you," he sneers. "You'll never really get away. Time to wake the fuck up."

NO! you try to scream. You can’t, the weight on your chest sinks you deeper, only silence is uttered...choked…

Wake up.

Wake up.

"Wake up!"

Your eyes fly open and you see him. Him. A blood curdling shriek finally tears through your throat and you thrash. "Getawaygetawaygetaway! NO!"

"It's me, hey, it's me. You're okay, you're safe." Shirabu’s eyes widen with worry at your outburst, but gives you ample space to breathe and compose yourself.

This familiar voice. It does not belong to him. It’s definitely not him.

"...Kenjirou-nii?" you ask quietly. The shadow is backlit from light coming in through the door and your vision is still fuzzy from the nightmare.

A tender hand closes around yours. "Shhh, it's okay, you're okay now. It was a bad dream, you're safe. You're safe. I'm here."

Cold sweat runs down your temples. Your breath is fast and shallow.

"Follow me, okay. Breathe in..." Shirabu takes a deep breath. You follow his voice and movement as if they are lanterns guiding you through a maze. "And breathe out. Good, you're doing great. Breathe in...and out..."

You feel your mind slowly beginning to clear with each inhale and exhale. Finally, you see Shirabu clearly again. You can smell the scent of his body wash from him. The texture of the blanket rubs against your fingertips. You’re here in Shirabu’s room. Safety. Haven. 

"I'll be right back," Shirabu tells you, before leaving you for a moment and going towards the bathroom. He opens the medicine cabinet, pops out a few white pills from a box.

"Here," he says holding out the small tablets in the middle of his palm. The off-white seems to almost glow in the dark.

"It's zolpidem, a sleeping pill I sometimes take for insomnia. It'll help you for tonight, and then we'll get you something else tomorrow that'll work better."

You look at the pill and then at Shirabu. Shirabu is someone you love and trust with all your heart. His embrace is your anchor and haven when the rest of the world has turned a blind eye. He’s your brother. One and only. There’s no reason not to trust him.

"I won't see him will I?"

"No," Shirabu affirms. The pills don't really manipulate dreams, but if reassuring you can placebo sweet dreams, then what harm really is there? He didn’t pass Ethics with top marks for nothing.

Shirabu gently presses the pill body against your lips and you part them, allowing the small object to slip through. He feeds another and you open your mouth obediently. You look at Shirabu’s eyes which are fixated on the way your lips wrap around his three fingers.  Kenjirou-nii’s lashes are so nice and pretty, you think. 

One gulp of water later, and you feel nothing but a cold sensation traveling down your throat and disappearing into your belly.

"It'll take about half an hour, I'll stay with you until you fall asleep," Shirabu says. He supports your back and gently lowers you back into the comforts of the plush mattress. Shirabu will surely carry the same attentiveness and care when he becomes a full-fledged doctor. You are sure of it. The big brother you grew up with has truly grown up and matured. But no matter how much he changes or how much you mess up, he’ll always be your big brother.

"Can you lie down next to me again, like when we were young?"

An innocent request from a patient-in-need. Shirabu complies and lies down next to you.

"I remember when we were young, I would make you dance with me to live out my princess dreams. You remember?”

Afternoons next to the stereo, crayons scattered on the floor. The smell of something baking in the kitchen. Shrieks and laughter in the living room. Even though Shirabu would be mildly annoyed at first, he found humoring your imagination to be a pleasant and soothing experience. Even he was sometimes whisked away from textbooks into a magical forest that was just you and him. The stress and burdens of everything else all seem so much lighter on his shoulders when you’re simply just there.

"Of course I remember, silly."

You hum softly and continue waiting for the medicine in your bloodstream to make its way through your body.

"Do you...remember the sleeping beauty story you would always tell me?"

"Yea?"

You pause for a moment before quietly asking, "Kenjirou-niichan, why did you lie to me?"

Shirabu does not respond and only glances over at you, eyeing your closed lids. Closed though they may be, the tiny beads of glimmering tears are beginning to emerge from between the lashes and trail down your cheeks.

"There is no prince, Kenjirou-nii...no prince for me, no one...niichan...," you mumble between your breaths. The drug is starting to take its effect, ushering your mind into another dimension far away from hurt and pain. It swallows you like a pit of ink, sinking you deeper and deeper...

----

Kenjirou-nii, why did you lie? Earlier, Shirabu felt his breath hitch when you asked that. 

He calls out your name softly, brushing over your cheeks, and listening to your soft breathing for a good while to make sure you are in fact asleep. At long last, maybe this is a good dream.

A lie? No! Not a lie, Shirabu wants to tell you. For you, his dearest sister, who only ever deserves happiness, in the rawest and truest form. You are supposed to have a life of others giving gifts of love, never having to offer anything of your own.

Shirabu feels his blood boil once more at the thought of that man who stole your innocence away. The one who took your body for his own carnal pleasures. The one who dared to steal you from him, Shirabu Kenjirou. If Shirabu's nails are not kept in immaculate condition for his profession, no doubt, his grip would be drawing blood from his palms.

Those marks and scars across your skin. Shirabu traces his finger down your neckline and along your arms...

Your head turns from left to right and you manage to shrug the big collar of the t-shirt off your shoulder. Shirabu can see, under the glow of moonlight from the cleared night sky, a nasty mark. A permanent mark. And before he realizes it, his fingers are already traveling over, tracing along and testing out the patterns and bumps.

Shirabu feels his chest burn beyond the anger and fury. Guilt. Where was he all this time when you were suffering? Why hadn't you just called him then? Anguishing thoughts of his little sister writhing in pain under that beast's grasps tear Shirabu apart. Did you cry? Were you scared? All these years studying for what? For what noble purpose is Shirabu trying to pursue if he can’t even save those closest to him?

Shirabu continues to search for any other marks or discolorations that are splayed across your skin like a map. It is what it is now. But Shirabu still has his calling. He is a man who answers to a life of service and healing: a prince in a white coat. No matter what happens, even if you’re tainted now, you’ll still be his little sister.

Even if your naivety and stupidity got you into the mess in the first place. Of course, why didn’t you listen to your brother’s warnings and stay in a safe haven like a good girl? Stay in your room and study for your future like a good student? Like him? Why did you think running off for fun, enjoying “youth and freedom” like the other degenerates would be a good idea?

Shirabu grits his teeth. Look at you now, damaged and past the point of no return, used. Injured and ill. Still, he needs to get the full story first, and see where else you might possibly be hurt. A complete diagnosis needs to come first. After the messages from the man, Shirabu is all the more certain that there are more clues left, and he needs evidence. He needs to know. The comforter is pulled away and careful hands examine the lines of your palms.

Once upon a time, you grabbed Shirabu’s hand and tried to use the methods of schoolyard palm-reading on him. You even exclaimed, “Kenjirou-niichan, this line means you’ll live a long life! And we can be together forever because my life line is really long too!”

Shirabu smiles at the memory and presses a kiss to the center of your palm. It must have been so painful, how could you have possibly endured? But you did and you survived. You are so brave. 

Probing fingertips trace across your collarbone and push the fabric of the large t-shirt up to reveal your torso. Shirabu blinks, realizing that this is now the body of a fully matured woman. You take a deep breath in your sleep from the cold air running across your exposed breasts. Shirabu can see the nipples perk up from the chill and hesitantly touches the bud with a hint of academic curiosity.

“Mmm, that tickles...” you giggle softly. Your hand pushes Shirabu's off and scratches the same spot he just traced, fondling your own breast briefly before letting go and continuing to sleep. Even grown up now, still the same adorable little sister.

Shirabu lets himself tease your nipples and knead the soft flesh of your breasts, toying around and watching your cute little expressions. Sometimes you’ll respond again and paw the tickling hands away. It’s fun, like playing a little game.

But when he lets his eyes wander down, Shirabu’s eyes narrow. Below the breasts, on either side of the waist, Shirabu sees damning marks of deep purple turning into a disgusting yellow. Like cursed claw marks. Shirabu hesitantly presses on the bruise, watching the color transform under his touch. He stops immediately when you begin to whine in pain. Carefully, Shirabu presses a kiss on these markings too, just like any other little injury you sustained in the past. A kiss so the pain flies away.

Foolish, foolish girl. Naive princess. Why did you let this happen to yourself? In the future, don’t run anymore. Stay here where it’s safe. 

There is just one place left Shirabu did not examine yet, a hidden spot that is supposed to be locked away that someone else discovered. Shirabu looks down at the dark lace panties obstructing his view like gates of a castle. It’s a poor “keep out” message; if anything it entices anyone who sees it to come in. A tempting invitation to see what’s behind.

Shirabu allows his clean fingers to easily slip through and begin a thorough investigation through the soft folds of flesh. His fingertips dip into a pool of wetness. He furrows his brows. When did this happen? 

Why are you wet? His eyes focus on your sleeping face that still has a relaxed smile. What are you dreaming about that makes your body like this? Shirabu drags the fingers covered with your slick to circle your clit. In response your thighs clamp and twitch. So sensitive, still inexperienced, even if you’re sullied. 

Shirabu slides the soaked panties off and pushes your thighs apart so he can continue his examination. That person must have touched this area too, his fingers have been here, and then…plunged his fingers into you like so. Your body trembles as Shirabu’s two fingers probe in, fully examining your inner anatomy. Soft, warm muscles clamp tightly around his digits and try to stop them from entering further. It’s for your good and his knowledge. He pushes deeper into you, dragging alongside the bumps and ridges of your walls.

You whine loudly and arch your back when Shirabu’s fingers find a sweet spot. Your head shifts on the fluffy pillows.

“Did you like that? Did that feel good?” Shirabu asks, probing your hole once more. As if in agreement, your body twitches again and your hips automatically roll against the palm, pressing your sensitive clit into the surface. Your breathy sighs are soft and sweet, unlike any other sound Shirabu has heard from you. It’s like a spell that enchants Shirabu and beckons for him. He shudders as he feels his cock responding to each noise coming out from between your lips.

It’s good, something feels so good. Under the sunlight, you feel warmth pooling throughout your body. There are tingles in the soles of your feet, like grass tickling skin while running around barefoot. Your body feels so light and relaxed. It’s warm and you’re not in this forest alone. The shape of a prince appears. You know he’s a prince because his voice is gentle and his touch feels safe.

If this feels good, it’s only because this is an act of love. If this makes you happy, it’s because it’s love. If it’s love, it’ll fill the empty pools of hurt. And if you’ll be whole again, you’ll heal. Shirabu makes up his mind and caresses your cheeks tenderly, So beautiful. Always beautiful. A sleeping beauty. His hand reaches to the waistband of his pants.

The prince rests his hand on your hips and excitement jolts through your body. You wrap your arms around his neck and smile back.

Shirabu freezes the moment he feels your arms wave into the air and reach for him. The sneaky fingers run across his skin.

"Dance..with me," you slur before falling back into silence.

The alarm washes away when he confirms you are still sound asleep.

"Are you dreaming of your prince?" Shirabu asks while tearing open a condom packet. Medical safety. He should have worn gloves earlier too, if he wasn’t already too entranced. "Dancing? Then I'll dance with you."

Forever. I'll be your prince, my sweet darling.

Shirabu runs the length of his hardened cock along your glistening slit. Rather than take, rather than pillage and steal...Shirabu will give. Replace the gross markers of pain with soft fleeting kisses. Replace the innocence stolen with love given unconditionally. Shirabu will give you all the love you deserve and more.

Shirabu’s fingers weave into your delicate ones, the palms join together, and your fingertips automatically lock with your niichan’s. It’s the starting position for a waltz in the forest, once upon a dream.

The man takes the initiation, the leading step. Shirabu closes the gap, sinking his length into your sweet embrace in a fluid and wet squelch. You respond, digging your nails and tightening your grip on his hands. Your other arm hugs around your partner, your niichan, pulling his body close against yours. Your blank eyes flutter open briefly to look straight at the shadow of Shirabu. Of course, you don’t see anything, you’re actually in a warm forest shyly gazing at your prince. Shirabu almost thinks that he woke you up, but you only let out a quiet moan before your body relaxes again.  

Shirabu groans and rests his cock in your warm and tight embrace. This is the way it should be, how it ought to be done. No one else can lead you in this dance the way he can. The way he will. This is not the self-fulfilling king stealing the princess’s virginal body for his own pleasure. This is the loving prince who loves and gives selflessly. Your big brother knows you the best, knows how you’ll respond, knows how you’ll like it. Shirabu slowly draws himself out and thrusts back in.

The prince presses himself so close to you, and you inhale sharply. During the waltz, you always have to maintain body contact with your partner. You feel his breath on your cheeks, and you’re sure he can feel your hammering heartbeat. The intimacy builds in the tender but secure hold. The steps are quick but the movements are not violent. It’s just enough that the heat stirring in your core spreads throughout your body.

Breaths become more labored and raspy into the act. Shirabu sees your face morph into bliss as he continues his pace and rocks his hips into you. His own brows furrow as Shirabu feels his grip over rationality falling apart with each thrust. Each flutter of your walls against him only invites him to come in deeper, farther. Harder. 

“...K-Kenjirou-nii...,” you softly cry out.

Your honeyed voice is a thick syrup trapping Shirabu, coaxing him. It’s like a melody inviting a weary traveler, a lost prince, in for rest. Your voice, your body, it’s tantalizing.

"Too good," Shirabu groans to himself. Why is it so good? You, his little sister, how? He looks down towards where he sees his cock, covered with your fluids, disappear into you. The thin latex barrier doesn’t stop how close the two of you are, Shirabu feels each clench and spasm around him. “My little sister, I didn’t know…” 

Shirabu can now understand just why that man did all that to you. Why that man wants to keep you by his side. Why he incessantly sends messages and tries to manipulate you back into their world.

It’s the only explanation, really, when you don’t even know how bewitching your body is. How enticing your voice is. Anyone would want to keep it as their own. Your warmth, your sweet, sweet hole. This cunt of yours is itself a safe haven. And Shirabu feels like he’s the one being made whole from you. It’s all because of you.

Each moan from you. Those gentle mewling cries, a witch’s spell, an incantation for addiction. That man is trying to manipulate you? How? When your whole existence manipulates everyone first, drawing them all in with the image of your unsullied purity.

Shirabu feels his impending release around the edge. His pace quickens and his thrusts meet with each of your twisting squirms. Your head tosses side-to-side on the pillow as your sleepy climax washes through.

Spin. Faster and faster in the forested ballroom. Twirl for the finale. You feel a dizzying jolt as the prince dips your body back. It’s a whirlwind of love. In your dream, the sunshine is so warm and growing so much hotter. It feels like you’re floating. So light and free. That prickling tickle in your feet is growing stronger until little fireworks set off across every corner of your body, filling you completely. The forest melts as the colors blend together in a dreamy painting. 

Euphoria, as Shirabu finishes spectacularly, clutching your sleeping body close to him in a messy ending pose. The final winds of the dead storm outside sound like a rumbling applause for this sinful waltz. He can hear his own pants and your shaky breaths mix into a fading duet. Shirabu lets himself bask for a moment, resting, entangled with you.

Everything makes sense now. He completely understands why the bastard king forces himself onto Sleeping Beauty. He completely understands why your allure is much too exquisite to pass on. Shirabu pulls out and carefully removes the condom, collecting the white essence you bewitched out from him into a little package with a tie. Dangerous little princess, that you are.

Even though Shirabu now fully understands the complete story after careful examination, there are still a few lines Shirabu will draw. One, that man has still committed a very grave sin, being the first to sample your purity, stealing that away from Shirabu? Damaging your flesh and skin? Unacceptable, he thinks as he tosses the used condom into the waste bin. A complete low-life who doesn’t know how to cherish. Punishment will be due.

Shirabu returns to the bed where your unconscious body is still sprawled between bunched sheets. His blank eyes study your spread legs and puffy cunt that’s still quivering every now and then. He taps his index finger against your sensitive clit. As if it is a magic button, your body briefly trembles on command. As if you are ready to enchant another unsuspecting traveler into your safe little haven. A little bit of fluid leaks out from your hole, presenting itself seductively. Welcome. 

Shirabu scoffs. And number two, you’ll be better off staying here with himself, your big brother. You’ll be safe here with a prince who knows best how to love you right, and give you the world. This is the way it should be; before you completely lose yourself into degeneracy and invite just about anyone into you. 

Those sleeping pills will be insufficient for the long-run. A different concoction while you are still healing from your terrible trauma will be needed. A cocktail of sorts that will target different needs. Yes. Shirabu files that thought away, putting it towards the top of his to-do list. There’s so many things he has to take care of. Too much pain in this world waiting for him to don white robes and be out there.

“But you’ll always come first on niichan’s list,” Shirabu whispers, slipping your panties back on and pulling the comforters over your body. He’ll never allow you to be sullied again. You’ll stay here in this safe haven, like a little cottage tucked away in the forest. Dream here. Find happiness with the only prince you need.

The first rays of dawn begin to brighten the sky, shooing away the cloak of night. The first songs from the birds announce the arrival of a new day. The morning light filters through the windows of the room, spilling over onto the bed and your quiet, unmoving form.

Time to wake up now, sleeping beauty.

[randomshyperson]

Hi!! Hope you're doing good and drinking water :) May i request something? 😁 I was listening to "the 1" by Taylor Swift (queen) and got me thinking about a Wanda X Reader story where maybe idk they dated in high school/college but ended cause whatever reason but they never actually stopped liking eachother (yknow, like the song) and then they just meet somewhere and get to talk and you know... happy ending lol But only if you like the idea really. Have a good one!

Hello anon! Here it is, hope you like it. It’s short but is sweet, i hope you like it.

Wanda Maximoff x Reader - The One

Summary: Prompt based “A story where Reader and Wanda broke up and never stopped loving each other. Inspired by the song “The 1″ from Taylor Swift.

Words:  2.531k    ///// Read on AO3

Warnings: None.

Marks: @mionemymind @wandamaximoffpuppy

Wanda Maximoff came into your life during autumn.

You were both in the same art history class, and she lent you a pen.

All it took was two dates, and you were completely in love. Unfortunately, as quickly as it started, your relationship burned out.

You wish you had a big plot justification, with betrayals and twists and turns to justify to your friends your emotional misery when it ended, but the only reason was the complete emotional immaturity you had.

There were fights, and accusations, and so much jealousy. And you wish so much that you had gotten over it, but you couldn't. And then Wanda was gathering the clothes that she had in your dormitory, and throwing the key at you.

You swore you wouldn't cry anymore, because there were no more tears after so many weeks, but you kept going. Until all that was left was the bitter feeling that you had ruined everything and lost the most important person in your life.

It had been more than two years since you two had broken up, and you still had the number saved on your cell phone with a heart emoji, even though the conversation had been archived a long time ago. And then you were walking out of the main building at NYU, and your friend Natasha Romanoff called out to you as she walked quickly toward you.

- Hey, girl! - she said with a smile. - How are you?

You shrugged as you walked with her around the campus toward the secondary building, where the Philosophy classrooms were.

- I’m surviving. - You joke with a weak smile, Nat looked at you worriedly, but you shook your head, trying to reassure her. - And how are you doing? 

- Fine, I think. - She says, entwining your arms. - I miss you, but things are fine.

You nod, looking forward. You knew that you had been absent in your friends' lives, simply because it seemed that things no longer made much sense since you were no longer with Wanda.

- Did you hear about Bucky and Sam? - she asked, and you let out a sigh.

- Yes, I... I don't know if I'm going to make it.

- Ah, Y/N, please. - She says. - It won't be the same if you are not there.

Natasha was talking about your friends' engagement party, which you were invited to a week ago. You hesitated, because all of Bucky and Sam's friends were invited. And that included Wanda.

You let out a sigh.

- I will make an effort to be there, I promise. - You assure her with a smile. 

- You don't want to see Wanda, do you? - Nat asks. And you look at the ground. - Look, I just... I never really understood why you two broke up. But maybe it will be good to see her, you know. Maybe you two need to talk after all.

You shrug, feeling the familiar sadness take over your chest every time you think of Wanda. 

- Let's talk about something else okay? - You ask her with a weak smile and Natasha nods, changing the subject as you two walk along the campus.

//-//

You straightened your clothes before knocking on the door. It had been almost two weeks since you had spoken to Natasha, and the day of the party had finally arrived. You saw many cars parked outside the Barnes residence, and were not surprised when one of the family friends answered the door instead of the owners.

You smiled and greeted the gentleman, saying that you were a friend of the grooms, and he smiled back when he let you in. You overheard someone say that it was better to leave the door open because of the number of guests, and you let out a small laugh. 

The house was full, and it took a few minutes for you to find Bucky, who looked extremely happy. He smiled slightly surprised when he saw you.

- Hey, you're here! - he said, walking over to you. - It's so good to see you!

Bucky hugged you tight and you laughed lightly, saying that it was very good to see him too.

- How are things going? - you asked as you broke the embrace. - Are you feeling anxious?

Bucky laughed, putting his hands in his pockets.

- Everything is working well. My parents are helping me and Sammy to organize everything. - he says, smiling. - And damn, yes. I can't wait for the ceremony.

You laugh, nodding in understanding. You talk for a few more minutes until Sam comes to check on the groom.

- Wow, look at you Wilson! - You exclaim when you see him, and he opens his arms toward you, grinning contently. You hug each other tightly. - It's good to see you, my friend.

- Yeah, it's great to see you too, stranger. - He smiles back, and then you part. - Glad you could make it.

- I couldn't miss the first wedding of the group. - You joked and made them laugh. 

And then they were talking about the preparations for the wedding, and the family members who had come from far away, and you were smiling and laughing at the stories. But everything seemed to slow down when your gaze focused on someone behind Bucky, the only person who always had the ability to capture your full attention.

Wanda had just walked through the front door, and was taking off her coat. You barely noticed Pietro standing beside her, as your heart started racing at seeing her again. Sam called out to you a few times, until you blinked and looked at him.

- Wow, you really haven't changed at all. - he teased. - Three years and you are still completely out of breath when you see her.

You blushed, telling him to shut up, but Bucky and Sam just giggled. And then you swallowed hard, because Wanda was looking around and her gaze met yours.

Your gas in surprise, and you told the couple in front of you that you needed a drink, then you rushed to escape the room.

You ended up on the balcony, trying to recover from the intensity of the previous moment, completely affected by seeing Wanda again. 

You thought it was the best to greet the people you knew at the party, and after talking to Clint and his girlfriend Laura, and also to Steve, Tony and Bruce, you made your way to the family circles. Bucky's parents and siblings were very friendly, and Sam's family was very warm, and they all hugged you and smiled. And then you were walking around the house again, and Nat approached you, two drinks in her hands, and one of them she handed to you.

- You really came. - She said with a smile. - Bucky just told me and I didn't believe it.

- The faith you have in me is touching. - You sneered with irony and she laughed before taking a sip of her drink. You looked at your own glass suspiciously.

- Is this champagne? - you asked, and she nodded, making you sigh. You put the glass on the balcony table near you. - Thanks but I'm driving.

Nat grumbled in understanding.

- You're running away from her, aren't you? - She remarked when she noticed your gaze wandering around the room.

- Is it that obvious? 

Nat laughed lightly.

- I suppose you are going to be uncomfortable for the next few minutes, since I just told her I was coming to talk to you and invite her to join me. - She tells you and you turn your face to her sharply with a surprised expression.

- Wait what?

But Nat is smiling past you and then you feel your body tense up as Wanda's voice sounds behind your back. Nat is saying something about how nice it is that everyone is together, while you turn around and you’re probably staring, but you can't react to having Wanda in front of you. Just as beautiful as she was three years ago.

- Hi. - She said a moment later looking up at you, a slight blush on her cheeks. It took a gentle nudge from Nat's elbow on your rib for you to react.

- Hi. - you exclaimed surprised and slightly uncomfortable. - How... How are you?

Wanda smiled awkwardly.

- Good, I... i'm good. And you? - she asked hesitantly. You nodded frantically, trying to smile.

 - Good, good. I... Good.

- Jesus. - You heard Natasha say as she looked at the two of you with a frown. - Okay. I'll put our names in the gymkhana, and you can continue with whatever this is by yourselves.

You scratched your neck uncomfortably as Natasha hurried to leave. 

- So... how are things? - Wanda asked, putting her hands in her pockets.

Ignoring your current anxiety, you assumed a thoughtful expression for a few seconds.

- Things are fine. I’m... I... I'm graduating. - You tell clumsily, running your hands through your hair. - Yeah, I... I'm graduating in a few weeks. 

- Wow, that’s actually really cool. - She comments with a smile. 

- I think so. - You say, laughing nervously. - What about you, Wands, how are you? Are you still studying?

Wanda blushes at the way you call her, looking away. You barely notice the nickname escaping your lips. But then she is smiling, so you don't notice much beyond that.

- Yes, I still have a year to go, but I'm doing well. - she says. You nod in understanding, but then Pietro is joining you two, a smile on his face.

- Wow, it's really good to see you Y/N. - He remarks as soon as he reaches you two and hugs you. You laugh lightly. 

- It's good to see you too, Pietro. - you say when you let go. - I like the beard, by the way.

- Thanks, I'm trying to look older. - He comments with a cocky smile, and you laugh, ignoring the nervousness of having Wanda looking right at you. - I didn't know you would be here today, I heard you were going back to California.

- Oh, yes, I... I am. - You say clumsily, gazing at Wanda quickly. - After I graduate, I'm going back home. I don't really have anything to keep me here.

- That's a shame, really. - Pietro says and you try to focus on his face and not on Wanda's frown. - But I hope you will keep in touch with everyone by skype at least.

He jokes last, and you laugh, nodding. And then he starts asking you about college and your parents, and you answer politely, trying to ignore the nervousness in your stomach that has settled with Wanda's attentive look on you.

- Pietro, would you get me something to drink, please? - Wanda asked after a moment, and you and Pietro looked at her in surprise, but she just smiled innocently, and her brother grumbled, before nodding and leaving. - Can we talk for a moment?

You blinked in confusion, but agree. Wanda took your hand next, and you bit the inside of your cheek, feeling your face flush as she pulled you around the yard, toward a farther area.

When she stopped walking, she let go of your hand, and turned around to face you, looking nervous and a bit anxious.

- Are you really leaving? - She asked with a almost sorrowful expression.

You straightened your posture, frowning slightly.

- Yes, I... Wanda, what is it? 

- Okay, I’m.. I'm going to say this once, because I have to, and then we'll go back to our life as before, okay? - She said hurriedly, closing her eyes for a moment as she took a deep breath while you just stare her. - I'm still in love with you. And I know we broke up two years ago, but I just couldn't move on. And I guess a part of me never will. - She confesses and you feel the air escape from your lungs. - And I need you to know this before you leave, because I almost couldn't come to this party because I knew you would be here. And I can't believe that we were this intense and amazing thing only just for me. - She says last. But you are in shock, so Wanda swallows dryly. - Damn, I'm... I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything and…

- I love you. - You confess interrupting her, listening to your heart pounding in your ears.

- W-what?

- I love you. - You repeat breathlessly as you are moving forward and kissing Wanda firmly. She stumbles back in surprise, but you keep your hands on her face, until she sighs in delight and kisses you back with the same intensity. It feels as good as you remember, but eventually you part breathlessly and start talking with your forehead touching. - I'm sorry I ruined things between us. I was stupid, childish and a bloody idiot. But I'm completely in love with you and i have always been. 

Wanda lets out a surprised laugh, her eyes filled with tears. And then she kisses you again.

- God, we are a complete disaster. - She comments as you separate, making you laugh lightly. And then she swallows dryly, stroking your face with her thumbs. - What are we going to do now?

You smile, hugging her waist.

- I'm not going anywhere if you ask me to stay. - You tell her, making her sigh with surprise and happiness.

- Be my girlfriend, then. - She asks, and you let out a giggle. 

- I'd love to. - You say, and then back away a little. - We'll make it work this time, Wanda. I'm going to love you the right way now.

Wanda nods in understanding, looking at you tenderly.

- You have always loved me the right way. - she says. - We just didn't know how to show it properly.

You sigh.

- I missed you. - You say, bringing your foreheads together. 

- I missed you too. - She breathlessly retorts before kissing you again.

The kiss intensified in the next second, and you ended up pushing Wanda against the outer wall of the house, and she sighed into your mouth. God, you missed her taste. Then she sighed against your lips, and you slowed down, because you are literally in an engagement party.

When you parted, you let out a breathless giggle.

- We should get back to the party. - Wanda comments, her face close to yours. You grumble in agreement, before kissing her again, your tongue running slowly and sensually across her mouth, making a warmth rise in the pit of your stomach.

- Wow. - You say breathlessly a moment later, breaking the kiss for breath. Wanda's hands are dangerously low. She lets out a breathless chuckle, her face flushed. You swallow dryly, clearing your throat. - We'd better go before I can't stop.

Wanda smiles, nodding her head in agreement. And then you took a step back, and it was easier to breathe and think clearly.

When you returned to the party, holding hands, Natasha stared at you two and sighed, taking a twenty-dollar bill from her pocket and handing it to Pietro, who had a smug smile on his face. She complained that she had bet that you two would only get back together after the party, while Pietro had bet that it would be during. You and Wanda's faces reddened, but you laughed at the story.

Two years later, you visited Bucky and Sam, but now, the wedding invitation in your hand was yours.

[peonyneko]

Hi! I love your writing so far, and I hope you don’t mind if I send you a request :) I was wondering if you could write something with Tenya Iida x the reader? I was thinking a situation where they’re on a class trip to the beach and he sees mineta bugging the reader with flirts because she’s wearing a bikini. I would love to see how Iida would react. Thanks in advance!

Buzz Off, Pop Off | Tenya Iida x Reader

I am making the class’ ages slightly ambiguous because I know a wide age range of people read fanfics. However, the story makes more sense in a high school or university setting. If you are older, you can make UA a hero university and 1-A one of the hero classes there. Also I apologize over how long this took to do. Hopefully, if you're reading it you like it.

Words: 1791 words | Fluff

Warning: Inappropriate comments, uncomfortable comments

“Say cheese!” Mina exclaimed as she attempted to capture pictures of everyone in the class. A scream emits from my throat as she tackles me into the water. Somehow, we managed to stay up. I hold up a hand covering part of face and body to avoid a full capture.

“Come on! You look absolutely amazing. It’s for the memories,” she pouted while crossing her arm.

“Hm... Try beating me in game of volleyball. We’ll see then,” I challenged her.

“Game on!”

“Pick your team. May all the luck be with you,” I bowed towards her, making her laugh at my response.

“Hey, everyone! We both are playing volleyball. Does anyone want to join?!” Mina shouts while pointing at the both of us. I instantly hear a series of ‘yes’ and ‘me’ throughout the beach.

Looking around, I made sure everyone was in their position. Iida is on my team... Wow. Okay, calm down. Don’t panic. Luckily (and obviously), this portion of the beach was reserved for the class only. The teachers were all still visible talking amongst themselves. As soon as the whistle blew, my focus turned towards the ball.

“____, you look quite hot with your bikini!” And there he goes.

“Wow. I wish you jumped towards me like that.” Dude, let me concentrate. Crap, the block was good.

“How about you and I go somewhere after this?” No thank you. Crap, I need to be careful with my spikes. It almost went out.

“Hehe. I know you’re interested, ____. You keep look at me.” No. I am looking at you with disgust. And I’m focusing on Iida, who is BEHIND you.

Before I can say anything Iida blows the whistle, indicating that we take a break. I try to catch my breath as the group rests. In the corner of my eye, a figure walking towards another captures my eye. I listen into their conversation.

“Mineta, I suggest you stop that disgusting behavior of yours. Can’t you see you are ruining her day?” Iida began. His confrontation immediately warms my heart. He didn’t have to do that but he did.

“Nah, you’ve got it wrong. She’s just chilling. Plus, she keeps looking at me. She’s interested.” Mineta responds while waving his hand up and down to dismiss Iida.

“I’m not.” I instantly blurt out with clear distaste.

“Your comments are still detestable. Her behavior shows discomfort not attraction. You need to stop.”

“Iida, calm down. Things won’t always go your way.” Mineta rolls his eyes.

“Then, I guess you leave me no choice.”

“Both teams, please listen up!” Iida drew the attention to himself.

When both teams gathered near him, Iida laid out a suggestion.

“How about we switch players? Mineta can switch with... Ojiro.” Both teams instantly went into consulting amongst themselves. Despite a few disagreements, the suggestion was not hard to accept. Since my team is aware of his behavior, they had no problem with agreeing with Iida.

The next thing I know, break ends and the games starts once again. We played three sets total. My team won the first set, Mina’s team won the second set, and now we were on the last set. Despite being on the other side of the net, Mineta continued to make suggestive face gestures. He also made some comments towards Mina. However, in response, she shot her acid at him, making him instantly regret his words.

Now, my team was one point away from winning.

“_____, are you okay? Are you able to concentrate?” Iida was focused on the game. Still, he made the time to ensure my state of mind. I reply with a quick ‘yes’. Right then, I see the ball rushing towards me.

“I got it!” I push my arms out to receive the ball, which I managed to do.

“Nice receive, ___!” Iida complimented while setting the ball towards Izuku.

Midoriya was there within a second, harshly slamming down the ball right besides Mineta’s position. The wind that emitted from it was otherworldly. My eyes widen in surprise. My eyes only grew when I saw Iida smiling to himself, then making a happy expression towards Midoriya. Did they plan- No. It’s probably because it’s our winning point.

“Ah! No! Mineta, it was right there!” Mina complains.

“Well, I could’ve died!” Mineta stood there in fear with his legs trembling.

I only chuckle to myself. My team cheers over our win. Soon enough, everyone begins to disperse.

“Aw, I really wanted a picture of you,” Mina whines, trying to convince me with her eyes. I just shake my head and whisper in her ear.

“Peer pressure but fine. Only after you know who leaves.”

Mina vigorously and happily shakes her head up and down.

After the exhausting sets, I decided to go in the water to cool off. I close my eyes, feeling the water against my legs. Suddenly, I heard voice.

“Just one date. What about it?” Mineta was, yet again, near me. Before I can respond, a blast of wind hits my fast. I look up and Iida was towering over me with Mineta in his grasp.

“Now, what did I tell you back there?” he sounded angrier than earlier.

“Uh. That she was not liking what I uh said,” Mineta was visibly panicking against his grasp.

“Do you think this is a joke?” Iida eyes darken and he tightens his hold on Mineta’s arms.

“No.”

“Then, I am sure you know what to do. Please, do not make me repeat myself,” he lowered Mineta back on the ground. Mineta quickly rushes towards the beach house. I also see others going back inside. It is starting to get a bit dark. Cold too.

“Are you sure you’re fine?” Iida looked worried. He kept his distance from me as if he wanted to make sure I am comfortable.

“Oh, yeah. Don’t worry. You were able to keep him away from me. I was about to say something but you flew in.”

“Oh, I do apologize. I did not mean to enter your situation. You just looked uncomfortable with his presence,” he fixed his glasses. My heart was beating rather quickly. The cool breeze against my skin was not helping the heat on my cheeks and neck.

“No! You’re alright. Thank you!” I quickly responded.

“Since it is getting cold,” Iida reached for his bag and pulled out a blue shirt.

“Here you go,” he hands me his shirt.

I take it into my hand and unfold it to put it on. A slight blush builds on his face after seeing me put it on. We continued to simply gaze at each other until I looked at the water.

“You look- Well, you see- I- For a while now,” I was confused with Iida’s tense composure. I closed his eyes and breathes in, then breathes out.

“I do not want you for feel pressured. Please tell me to stop when you begin to feel overwhelmed or uncomfortable. I simply need to get this off my chest,” he began. What?

“I’ve liked you for a while now. I can’t help but feel the need to take care of you. Though, I am full aware that you’re completely capable taking care of yourself. When Mineta made those crude comments, my irritation only tripled. I want to be able to fully stop that without making you feel surprised with my sudden interference. I have never wanted to be with someone as much as I have wanted to be with you. We still have a long way to go in life but I can tell that my feelings are serious. Will you be my girlfriend? Will you make me your boyfriend?” he looked calm but his red ears hinted otherwise.

My mouth was slightly open in surprise. My mind was trying to process all the information. I looked at the water, once again. What are you doing?! This is your chance. You’ve like him for a long time too. Do not ruin this for yourself.

“I won’t rush you so take your ti-”

“I like you too!” I interrupted him. He steps back at my sudden confession.

“I have liked you for a while too. I just didn’t know what to do. So yes, I’d love to be partners,” I smiled at him.

His eyes widen and glimmer with light. His face grows a big smiles and his chest swells. He puts out his hands but does not lean forwards.

“Can I hug you?”

“I don’t see why not”

As soon as those words left my mouth, I felt his warmth around my body.

*click* Huh? I internally shrug off the sound that I heard.

Upon entering the beach house, I heard the class talking amongst themselves.

“I told you so! You owe me a hamburger,” Denki told Jirou.

“Hm. Seems like you were right after all, Midoriya,” Todoroki says. Bakugou ‘tsk’ed at both of them.

I was in utter confusion until I noticed the image in Mina’s hand. It was a polaroid of Iida and I hugging.

“And here you were lecturing me about my actions,” Mineta looks at Iida.

In return, Iida only crosses him arms and glare at him.

“Mr. Aizawa wants to have a word with you. I suggest you do not lie. He already saw your actions and I did not leave out any details,” he replies. There were a few giggles from the students.

“Also,” the classroom is completely silent.

“I’m her boyfriend so buzz off, pop off.”

Not even a second after Iida’s confession, the classroom began screaming and laughing. The reaction towards the his changed relationship status and use of vocabulary was undeniably loud. Mineta’s mouth opens with shock at Iida’s words.

Iida gently takes my hands and pulls me towards the main room’s couch.

“Now, tell us everything!” Mina exclaims flopping the polaroid around as she walks near us. The rest of the class, except for Mineta, also gathers around to hear the story.

“Ah! That’s so cute. I didn’t know that’s when you started liking ____.” Me neither.

“Why did it take you so long to realize, huh?!”

“You shouldn’t be talking, Bakubro. You denied their attraction first.” Oh, no.

“Dude, you’re right but I don’t think you should have- Hey, wait! I didn’t mean it like that.” I hope he is okay.

“With the way he looked at her when he and I walked together, I was sure of it.” Always the observant one.

“I love you” I whispered at Iida, underneath all the noise.

“I love you just as much” Iida whispers back into in my ear.

-----

Please leave any suggestions or requests. Not beta read we upload with the 5% of confidence (not even) we have.

[ilovekazuhaa]

El Encanto Nuevo

A continuation of Emotional Jumpstart and Charge me, charging you.

Reader uses their gift to bring the future to Encanto today, but not without cost.

Madrigal Family x gn!reader(familial)

---

It started innocent enough. Your gift of magnetism wowed the people of Encanto as you juggled blades without touching them, among other things, then one night you realized you could do so much more.

The next day, during breakfast, you were scribbling on some paper. Dolores peeked over your shoulder, but squeaked and went back to eating when you glanced at her.

Later, in your room, you heard a knock on the door, and your mother's voice, "Everything okay in there, Amorcito? You've been in there for hours."

"Yes, Mama!" you called back, "I'm working on a project!"

"Okay, Amor." she replied, "Just make sure you don't overwork yourself, alright?"

"Alright!"

---

That was an outright lie.

You worked for a whole week, only coming out of your room to eat or use the bathroom and only sleeping twice, but finally. Finally you'd recreated a handful of things you took for granted in the future: A lightbulb, a battery, and other little things to create a simple circuit.

You showed this off to the town, and suffice to say they were impressed, and you promised them electric street lamps by the end of the month.

When you got home however, told something different.

Pepa grounded you from your room for not taking care of yourself.

Later, you lay in one of the hammocks on the ground floor, upset, when your tia approached with lunch.

"Y/n, we all know you want to make the people in town happy, but take it from us: We can't make others happy without being happy ourselves. And we can't be happy working ourselves to the bone." Julieta commented.

You grumbled something as you ate, not really sure of the words yourself.

---

You kept your promise to the town, but that meant you got worse as you worked harder and harder.

During the celebration of the new lamps, you'd passed out.

You awoke back home, your Mama and Tia by your side.

They both embraced you soon after.

"Y/n, never do that again!" Pepa said, "Just because you're used to different things doesn't mean you have to work so hard to bring them to our time! If you live in time where work is put over even your own health, it's not a life worth living."

---

After a very thorough talking with your family, and another grounding from your room, you live a much better life now.

While the people liked the new street lamps, nothing else seemed to stick, which you were fine with. Though you still worked hard to improve the electric lamps, you made your health priority one. Casita would now jostle your desk if you've been at it for too long, a reminder to eat, sleep, or socialize.

Sure it was bothersome, but a fresh mind is sharper than a fatigued one.

Your desk shook, break time.

You stood up and stretched, your joints popping as you walked across your room. Based on the chatter you hear just outside, must be dinnertime.

You look over your shoulder at the desk, and the design upon it.

Perhaps you should tackle that again in a week. Designing a tech-neural interface from era materials is quite the task, after all.

The desk retracts into the wall as you shut your door behind you.

(Writer's note: This one was a bit on the short side, I think, but sometimes a story doesn't have to be an essay.)

omg i love this😭😭 literally has me hooked on it from the second i started reading it until the end. seriously, i love your ideas! this is so creative and cool i’m obsessed with it. Like ahh Juli and Pepa scolding me for overworking is so sweet i love them with my whole heart and soul☹️☹️ i’ve enjoyed this little series of yours a lot and it was a really cool idea that you made reader try to bring things from their time into like the past and how all that goes down and then how they use their gift for it too is so cool. if you’re gonna do more parts let me know i didn’t see this in my ask box until now!! :))