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cafeacademia · 3 years

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Laundry Day

Fred Weasley x Reader (SMUT)

Summary: After you accidentally catch your best friend and roommate, Fred doing his laundry in just his boxers, you turn into a flustered mess, but it’s when you make the next clothing slip that either of you act on your feelings.

Warnings: Straight up smut!!! Oral (female receiving), sex, a bucket load of fluff, quite a bit of embarrassment and awkwardness at the beginning.

Word count: Approx 3500

Masterlist

Please read the drabble that sparked the rest of this story (it doesn’t make a huge amount of sense otherwise!)

A/N: Hello my loves! My god was this fun to write! I love some Freddie smut and I hope you enjoy it too! This was inspired by my lovely friend, Holly’s made up title ask, which turned into a drabble and is now followed by this full fic! Enjoy 💖

Fred was rather annoyed with himself. He’d been far too wrapped up in teasing you in your flustered state when he had been standing nearly naked in front of you, and yet he’d not taken a second to actually see if you felt the same way that he did. Albeit, was doing it mostly naked in front of your best friend a good idea? Fred thought, probably not.

But now, only a few hours later, Fred regretted it even more, because his poor roommate, his poor best friend couldn't even look at him without looking as if you were about to keel over in embarrassment.

And while Fred was annoyed with himself that he’d not done anything about months, years even of being completely and utterly in love with you, you on the other hand were reprimanding yourself in the other room over how you had blatantly drooled over the poor boy.

He probably thought you were creepy or weird. Or both. Both were definitely plausible, you thought as you climbed out of the shower, having taken one in the hopes of getting the embarrassing moment off your mind. Unfortunately for you though, it had only given your mind more time to replay and over exaggerate the interaction.

But as you dried yourself off and did your usual bathroom routine, you quickly realised that being so stuck in your own head had led you to a near similar situation that Fred had been in just mere hours ago. You were stuck in the bathroom with nothing but a small bath towel that barely covered you while you had forgotten your clothes. The worst part was you had walked into the bathroom naked while Fred had gone out for a little while and you just hoped to Merlin that he was still out of the apartment so you didn’t have to face him with embarrassment while being nearly naked.

Unlocking the door and opening it by just a slither, enough to see into the main room, you poked your head out for a second to survey and thankfully, to your relief, there was no Fred in sight and you let out the breath you had been holding on to as you pulled the door open fully and stepped out of the bathroom with the towel loosely wrapped around you.

“Alright there, love?” Fred’s voice came from behind you and your movements seized as you froze on the spot, eyes going wide. Shit. “Fred,” You practically squeaked his name out in shock before pausing, half turning towards him. Fred noticed you were still unable to look at him fully, as if meeting his eyes might vaporise you on the spot or turn you into a puddle.

If you hadn’t already felt rather exposed with just a towel on before, you felt as if you were completely naked and you swallowed thickly as he took a step closer to you. It wasn’t even that you didn’t like or want his attention, you craved Fred. You wanted him in every capacity possible, but this was not the way you had spent many nights and lonely showers and hours working imagining how it would go. And quite frankly, you were sure your cheeks were still as hot as they had been earlier that day when you had walked in on your best friend.

“That’s an awfully short towel, love.” Fred smirked and you managed a quick glance at his features before you shyly looked away again and you suddenly felt very aware of where the fabric fell against your skin. Did it hide you well enough? You supposed it was really a bit too late to be wondering that now, though.

“Sorry, I might’ve… Forgotten my clothes.” It came out quieter than you had meant it to and Fred could see how flustered you were. “I don’t mind.” Fred told you with a lopsided grin, using your own words on you. “Are you embarrassed, princess?” He questioned, taking another step closer and reached out, his fingers gently brushing the tip of your chin, lifting just enough to get you to meet his eyes. “There’s no reason to be, I promise.” Fred spoke softly, his grin dampening into a gentler smile, one that was reassuring. “Besides, I quite liked you seeing me earlier.” He added. “Can’t say I hadn’t thought about it before.”

“Thought about what?” You asked, your throat dry as you looked up at him, your eyes fixed on his now that he’d finally managed to get you to look at him. “Me seeing you… Like that?” You asked. “Well, sort of. I think about you a lot, sweetheart.” Fred replied, not really giving you a straight answer, but the answer he did give sent a shock through you, your stomach flipping in the most pleasant way and for a moment you just stared at him. “Do you think about me?” He asked, his fingers gently moving up from your chin, his thumb resting against your cheek, brushing your skin delicately with the pad of his thumb.

Of course you thought about Fred. Sometimes it felt like he was all you thought about. He was impossible not to think about, especially when he was the perfect mixture of charming gentleman and absolute rascal. But you supposed that was what attracted you so much to him, that and his tall stature, the way he looked at you sometimes making you weak at the knees. Merlin, you wanted him to absolutely ruin you. It wasn’t as if you hadn’t ever done anything sexual yourself before, you had, but Fred and George had always had a running joke about your innocence, that you just seemed too pure, too much like a sweet princess with the way you always became so shy and giggly and flustered whenever they teased and joked around with you, especially Fred.

“Mhm.” You could only hum, your eyes looking away from him for a moment as you tried to gather yourself a bit more. “Is that so, princess?” Fred chuckled softly, watching you tug your lip lightly between your teeth and he almost groaned, already very riled up from earlier in the day.

“I do, I think about you all the time, Freddie.” You finally got yourself together, eyes doe like and sweet as you looked up at him. Fred smiled, his thumb gently caressing your cheek as he leaned in a little closer, his heart leaping when you leaned a little into him too, because besides from friendly hugs and leaning on one another, you’d never had much close contact with Fred and he wanted to hold you so badly. “Can I kiss you, love?” Fred asked, speaking so softly that it was barely above a whisper, his words brushing against you as he spoke and you nearly melted, nearly combusted because Fred Weasley had just asked you those words.

“Please, Freddie.” And your words were all he needed to close the gap between you and capture your lips with his in a loving, gentle kiss. He was slow at first, lips indulging in every feeling it sent through him to have your lips moving gently against his. Fred felt you press yourself up against his chest and his heart fluttered, unable to stop himself from smiling into the kiss as he his hands wandered, softly tracing over your skin and resting at your hip as he cradled your head with his other hand.

And as your hands found the nape of his neck, fingers dipping into his thick ginger hair, Fred groaned against you, deepening the kiss, his tongue finding yours. You felt warmth rush through you, the kiss pushing every thought, every lingering worry out of your head. Fred was not overconfident with his kiss, instead, he was gentle but still charming and you could just imagine the smile he was wearing as your lips moved against his, Fred’s tongue gently brushing yours.

Parting, Fred having kissed you breathless, you sighed softly as you pulled away. Your towel though, was forgotten and with your hands having rested over Fred’s shoulders, his chest no longer there to hold it up, the fabric fell into a pile on the floor. You glanced down, for a second to see it below you, shyly looking back up at Fred, who was fixed on you with a stunned look in his eyes. He made it quite clear, just from the way he was looking at you, keeping his eyes on yours that he wouldn’t look at your body unless you wanted him to.

But part of you wanted him to look, you wanted him to see you and your gaze softened from surprise to something almost lustful. “You can look, Freddie.” You whispered the words, Fred taking you permission, his lips parting as he finally looked down to admire you, his eyes wandering your figure as you stood in front of him. “You’re gorgeous, princess.” Fred complimented, his words making you smile shyly as he tentatively reached out for you, giving you ample time to tell him to stop. But you didn’t and you moved forwards into his touch, letting his fingers meet your bare skin, his fingertips gently brushing against your collarbone and Fred’s breath hitched in his throat for a moment as he took you all in, nothing but admiration and pure, sweet love in his eyes.

He looked at you as if you were the most beautiful person he had ever seen, his eyes softened, he looked almost awestruck at the sight of you and his eyes slowly drew across you, unsure of where to look first. “I want you, love.” Fred spoke the words, eyes looking up to yours, waiting for permission. He was well and truly in love, he always had been, but seeing you like this, nude with that sweet, shy smile of his, he felt like he was really seeing you. Vulnerable, beautiful and Fred wanted to know if he could have you for himself like he had always dreamed. “Then take me, Fred.” The words passed your lips, Fred’s admission going straight to your belly, a little shiver of anticipation, of excitement rushed through you.

With your permission, Fred didn’t spare a moment longer, his hands gently smoothing over your skin to grip your hips as he leaned in, his lips meeting yours in a slow, gentle kiss. Fred was in no rush as he kissed you, his fingers trailing upwards, thumbs gently brushing over your hardened nipples and he groaned as you moaned softly into the kiss at his actions.

“Let me take care of you.” He mumbled it softly against your lips, his warm touch gripping your sides and gliding lower until he reached the curve of your ass, squeezing gently. Moving lower still, Fred leaned down a little to pick you up and pull you into his arms, his eyes fixated on you as he carried you carefully to your bedroom and lay you down on the bed.

Beginning to remove his own clothing, Fred caught the way you looked at him the way you had earlier, lost in your own little dreamy haze as your gaze trailed over his bare torso as he let his shirt slip off his arms and fall to the floor. And as he pushed his trousers off, his boxers going with them, Fred was glad he caught the way you gently bit your lip at the sight of him, your reaction going straight to his hardened cock.

“Can I taste you, please princess?” Fred asked, gently pushing your legs upwards. “Please Freddie.” You nodded, lips parted as you let out a little breathy moan as he parted your legs, kneeling down between them. He held your gaze for a moment longer as he dipped low, close to your aching core as he parted your lips with his thumbs, watching as you gasped at his warm, gentle touch.

Swiping his thumb over your clit tentatively, he watched your reaction to the small touch and it made his length twitch as you watched him with pleading eyes. Finally, Fred leaned in, his thumbs exposing your bud for him as he pressed his tongue against you and began to work you up. “Oh fuck, Fred.” You whined out at the contact, your hand reaching down to hold him there, your fingers sliding into his hair as Fred circled your clit, building up his intensity as he played with you.

His gentle movements became a little faster and within moments Fred had you writhing and moaning at his touch. His tongue flicked against you and you shyly cast a glance down to him to see Fred looking up at you with hooded eyes, savouring every second of pleasuring you. “Is it good, princess? Am I making you feel good?” Fred asked, his thumb taking over and circling your clit as he spoke to you, making you whine at the difference in contact. “Freddie, god, you’re so good, please don’t stop.” You whined, too caught up in pleasure to worry about being shy with your words.

Smirking, Fred leaned back in, taking your soft bud between his lips and gently sucking, flicking his tongue over you. Your soft moans, the way you panted when he did something to make your knees quiver, it felt as if Fred could cum just at the sight of you blissed out with pleasure under his touch. Releasing you, he slid his tongue over you and flicked his tongue over your clit relentlessly, watching as your hands gripped the sheets in reaction.

Fred worked you up and up, so high that you lost yourself in the pleasure he was giving you. Looking up to watch you as you climbed, now teetering on the edge of your orgasm, Fred loved the way you looked like this, spread out for him and falling apart from his teasing, from his soft touches.

“Are you going to let go for me, princess?” Fred asked, his hot breath against your aching core before pulling you clit back between his lips and flicking his tongue quickly against you. “Yes Freddie, please.” You whined it out, panting and moaning as he brought you to the edge and saw you over into your euphoria, the orgasm pouring through you, trickling like warm honey through your senses as you came undone beneath his gentle touch. His name was a cry on your lips, eyes teary as the haze clouded over you, every muscle, every sense relaxing as you came down from your climb, Fred gently bringing you back down with soft touches.

It was the most beautiful thing he’d seen, watching you, his best friend orgasm from his touch. It was better than he had dreamed and he hoped as he slowly climbed up the bed, holding himself above you, capturing your lips with his for a slow kiss, that taking you, making you his would be as amazing as he had imagined. Fred couldn’t deny, he’d had vivid dreams about you, waking up in a flustered, panting state with beads of sweat on his forehead, George thinking he’d had a nightmare, when in reality it was the exact opposite. The sound of your moans, fabricated in his mind, he could have only imagined how you sounded when he teased you, but now that Fred had heard you, now that he’d seen the way you crumbled for him, he knew he’d never get enough of you.

“Make me yours, Freddie.” The words were sweet and almost melodic as you hummed them out in your gentle voice. The haze seemed to settle over Fred too, his eyes unable to leave yours, unable to look away, you were just so perfect to him and Fred was unsure he even deserved someone as absolutely wonderful as you, but he was grateful that you wanted him, that you needed him, because you were all he really needed too.

“I’ll make you mine, sweetheart.” He said it lovingly as he pressed hot, open mouthed kisses in a trail against the warmth of your neck. “My princess.” He hummed the words out, heavy in his throat but coming out as a light whisper, one that made you moan his name to him and Fred hoped he could always hear the way you said his name in the heavenly way that you did.

Gently, his length pressed against your core, allowing himself to slide through your folds, pressing against your sensitive clit and you gasped at the contact, lips parted and eyes sliding closed and Fred watched as your lashes fluttered against your skin so beautifully. Guiding himself into your entrance, your moans met the air together in a beautiful symphony, your eyes opening to look up at the man above you as he slowly pushed in until he was in as far as he could go. He met your eyes, his expression swimming with complete awe, the feeling was like no other, no one else felt as perfect as this and Fred swore on the spot that perhaps you were always meant to be.

After a moment, Fred began to move, his thrusts gentle and soft at first while you relaxed around his size. Leaning in, Fred left tender kisses against your skin, worshipping you as he pulled out nearly to the tip and allowed himself to sink back into you slowly, his head tipping back as he let out a low moan at the feeling of your walls fluttering around him. “You’re so perfect, sweetheart.” He said the words only semi coherently as he began to move a little faster his thrusts slowly speeding up. “So perfect, you take me perfectly.” He mumbled, the words falling from his lips, his eyes closing as his hips met yours with a gentle slap of your skin against his, your moans filling his ears.

“Freddie,” You gasped his name out, his eyes opening at your voice to look you in the eyes. “I need you.” The words were desperate, but Fred knew what you needed. “I’m here, princess, I’ve got you.” Fred spoke softly, his hands pressing yours against the mattress, your fingers intertwining as he thrust heavily into you, pulling a whine from you as he positioned himself to best reach the spot that made you gasp. “Oh god, Freddie.” You gasped, closing your eyes for a moment as you basked in the pleasure of his thrusts, gentle but firm as he sped up, dragging moan after moan out of you with each stroke.

“Come on, darling, can you cum for me again?” Fred asked, working you up with his gentle words, contrasting so heavily with the way he was edging you closer, his length stroking you faster towards your release. “Please, yes Freddie.” You were lost in your own haze, barely able to string a sentence together as he worked you closer and closer, his thrusts speeding up more and more.

Fred held in his own orgasm as he drew closer, wanting to see the look of euphoria wash through you again, just once more for him and as he watched you, your hands gripping him tightly your moan higher pitched as you reached your peak and your orgasm rushed through you in a heavy warmth, your walls fluttering around Fred as you arched your back into him. He was sure he’d never see a more beautiful sight than you coming undone beneath him. “That’s it, sweetheart, there you go.” He whispered, your orgasm sending shockwaves through him as it brought Fred his own release, the feeling of you squeezing him, pulsing around his as you moaned his name out, fingers clinging onto him as you came down.

Looking into your eyes as he followed you, he saw the stars in your eyes, you looked at him as if he was everything to you, because to you, he was and for Fred, you were everything to him too. His thrusts stuttered as he came and his head tilted back, letting out low grunts as he worked himself through his orgasm, your gentle touch reaching up to cradle his face as he came down slowly, savouring every feeling, every moment spent with you.

You lay your head on Fred’s chest as you both came down from your orgasms, his chest rising and falling with each breath, his heart beat gentle as he calmed, his soft touch trailed over your delicate skin. “Please stay with me, Freddie.” You broke the silence and Fred clocked the worry in your voice, the worry that told him this all might have been a one time experience. But as he gently rolled over onto his side and reached up, brushing the backs of his fingers against your cheek, Fred smiled sweetly to you. “I’ll stay as long as you’ll have me, sweetheart.” He said, his smile growing as he watched you gave him a shy little giddy grin at his response.

“I love you, my sweet princess.” Fred hummed the words out softly, leaning over to press a gentle kiss to your cheek. “I love you too, Freddie.”

And for once, you were both thankful for it being a laundry day.

Taglist (OPEN):

@kitkatd7 @paintballkid711 @thesewaywardskies @coldlilheart @victorialynn7 @pandaxnienke @megantje123 @loving-life-my-way @chaotic-fae-queen @theweasleyslut @amourtentiaa

#fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x you #fred weasley x y/n #fred x reader #fred weasley #fred weasley fanfiction #fred x y/n #the weasley twins #weasley twins #weasley twin imagine #weasley twin fanfic #weasley twins imagine #harry potter #fred weasley smut #harry potter smut #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter imagine

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utilitycaster · 3 years

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EXU finale thoughts

I think basically everything I said last week stands; loved the characters, loved the world and the descriptions, for the most part a huge fan of Aabria’s DM calls re rules/mechanics (granting boons, allowing for a lot of flexibility but also making the characters justify and roll for it), but the plot/pacing really fell flat for me,

I want to stave off the “not all things need to be answered” criticism here; I’m not asking for that. I am however asking for enough details to get me emotionally invested in the final fight, and I didn’t feel like I had that. Myr’atta’s attack felt no different than the party running into a corrupted treant in the jungle - I was far more interested in the weird cube last week. I still don’t know why she felt it necessary to have Ted for herself. I can accept not knowing how Ted became a patron, but the idea that she could be lost to Opal lacked any weight because it wasn’t present as a threat until it was already happening.

I don’t mind the stingers - in fact I think the one with Poska at the end, had this been a story that felt contained but also included hooks for future EXU seasons, would have been fantastic! But if the buildup to the final battle is almost entirely stingers meant for the audience, the main characters feel disengaged from what's supposed to be the main plot. It felt like a surprise to them, which means there was no tension buildup and that it was hard to care.

I think the same story structure, honestly, could have existed - the biggest flaw was that the party never really knew what was going on so they were just reacting rather than planning. I honestly think a single reveal that Myr’atta was after them and behind the attacks near Gilmore’s store, and a second reveal that she was trying to control Ted, would have changed my opinion entirely. If the party left Emon not just because of Poska and the need to investigate the rune, but because Myr’atta was chasing them, and if they kept moving south because of this; then even though there would still be all these different threads and the events would have played out similarly, Myr’atta would actually feel like the main villain and the other elements would have added additional pressure and time restraints. As is, Myr’atta felt like an annoying distraction from far more intriguing elements.

To compare to campaign 2: I thought Lucien had the most rancid vibes that have ever existed - like, truly, zero positive traits - and wanted him dead - but I knew why he was doing what he was doing and that made me deeply invested in the story. Here, it felt like the party was being pursued by a bear and Myr’atta was a mosquito that was bothering them. It felt like Poska’s crew or servants of Lolth or some threat from the plane of fire or even the Iron Authority with an imprisoned Umeji could have shown up as the BBEG, and I’d have felt it was equally plausible and in several of those cases, more narratively fitting and emotionally engaging.

In short: there were several different plotlines, which is fine and even good, but the one the final battle and emotional beats hinged on was the one I cared about the least. Even the inclusion of the circlet and hints that Myr’atta was perhaps responsible for the earthquake near Emon didn’t fully land; Opal was (other than Orym) the party member least tied to the circlet, with no prior interactions with Lolth specifically because she’d spent those dream sequences with Ted.

The hook for existing fans regarding Thordak’s Crater also failed to pay off and I need to stress that “but Matt probably gave that as a starting point” is not a good explanation; either work within the restrictions, or don’t, but a vague inclusion with no payoff in a limited run series really cannot be spun into anything good. I actually think including past lore is good, but because there was no payoff, both new potential viewers and existing fans didn’t get anything out of this. Let’s be real: this is a fandom where people got loudly emotional on social media at the mere idea of Vax showing up in a non-canon one-shot where he would almost certainly be murdered in like three rounds. You don’t really need to sell this to existing fans beyond saying "Emon."

This isn’t to say I didn’t enjoy myself, because for the most part I did (although the finale for me, because of the reasons I stated, was by far the weakest episode). I also completely acknowledge this is their first attempt at this shorter format, which is much less forgiving of digressions and tangents, and there probably were a lot of competing expectations. In the end, the main problem was, as I’ve said before, a lot of enthusiasm for the world and trying to be all things to all people. I can’t fault anyone for that; neither can I deny it led to a somewhat rocky and disappointing result.

I’d watch a new season. I’d even be excited for a more tightly plotted follow-up to this one. But also I’ve been a fan of the show for 3+ years and have seen Aabria in several other shows so there’s a lot of built-up goodwill. If I had a friend who was interested in checking out CR but intimidated by the amount of material, or a friend who had taken a break after campaign 2, I would probably recommend they just wait for C3 or hold off to see if EXU season 2 is more tightly plotted.

#critical role spoilers #exandria unlimited #critical role

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hobiwonder · 4 years

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mission impossible | (m)

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Smut, crack.

Warnings: Oral, dirty talk, unprotected sex, overstimulation, slight degradation. dom/sub themes (jungkookie being a good boy and then... not so good lol)

Words: 9k+

Summary: When you find out that your groupmate is whoring it up on tinder instead of handing in his part of the project, you go on a mission to teach him a lesson. And maybe get him to finish his part.

A/N: hello!!!! thankyou all for waiting patiently. or maybe you’ve just forgotten about me lol. it’s been a while since i uploaded anything!!! I hope you enjoy this crack as much as I enjoyed writing fuckboy but still a movable baby!jungkook. please don't forget to tell me ur thoughts. feedback keeps me going :)

If it was something strange, it would happen to you. You were not just saying that because of the hint of narcissism in your personality that made you think that everything was about you. Oh no. You never seem to catch a break these days. And quite honestly, you should’ve expected your dose of absurd to be handed to you soon. It had been a week too long without any fatuous incidents and/or people happening to you. Was this just a y/n thing? Was every girl with your name cursed? Maybe it had something to do with your astrological sign. That always seemed to be the explanation of a lot of your friends who did not want to admit to their faults that would land them in hot water. The usual “oh it’s because i’m insert-star-sign”.

Were you really becoming that girl? Though it was hard to blame yourself for this one. Currently staring at your phone. More specifically, the defined abdominals of your group mate. A group mate who has not shown up to a single meeting. After a whole day of slaving away at your study desk, deleting and rewriting your discussion and evidential analysis to conclude whether or not it was a plausible inference that the movies, Whiplash and Black Swan were excellent cinematic representations of the ‘Obsessed Performer.’

Yeah. That was a mouthful. And you bet your right ass cheek that you were the only one out of yourself and Jungkook who had even watched the said movies. In the group of four, Jungkook and yourself were given the discussion and conclusion to write. The three of you who had been present at the initial group meeting had chosen your parts as was decided in the group chat prior. When all of you had received a text from Jungkook cancelling last minute, you’d snagged the conclusion as well as half of the discussion to write as just the conclusion would be a little too easy. And you had wrongfully assumed that your peer had been in some sort of ‘emergency’ since he always sounded like he was in a hurry to do something incredibly important.

You’d pitied the seemingly sweet looking boy and told him that you’ll work together on the last two sections of the paper. And his bastard self had always been all smile emojis and ‘yes :)’ and just all around misleading. Sounding like he was diligently working on his part by himself and definitely will turn everything into you by Thursday. Thursday was yesterday and you had not received even a single message from Jungkook about where he was in terms of progress on the 1000 words he needed to write. Message after message, you weren’t even being left on read. And in concern you had messaged your group chat that maybe he was facing some real life crisis to be so MIA. Until this.

Until you had picked up your phone about half an hour ago to mindlessly scroll through your instagram feed and then in the last 10 minutes had decided to also go on to tinder just to humour yourself. You were well aware that tinder was a cesspit of weird and unhinged men who would only be a good enough to make a youtube video about or a horror story texted to your best friend. You were speaking from experience. Decent men on tinder was like finding a luxury vintage dress in half good condition at a thrift store.

So when you’d swiped left for the 30th time - you’d finally come across the perfect face of someone very familiar. You’d almost swiped left on reflex before you’d brought the phone almost too close to see why the face looked so recognisable. Even without having actually ever met Jungkook face to face - apart from that first lecture - it was hard to miss that this definitely was him. Your mouth had fallen open, jaw just shy of touching your soft bedsheets. You’d found Jeon Jungkook on tinder. His perfectly coy smile staring right at you, the first few buttons of his black shirt open wide to capture your attention back to his smooth, muscular chest. Hastily dialling Momo’s number, you can barely contain your shock and anger and annoyance. All of it wrapped up in one powerful burst of dialogue that you subject Momo’s ears too.

“Bitch!!!” You can’t help screeching, mind boggled.

“What happened now? Jungkook finally reply to you?”

“No oh my god. I found his tinder. I found his tinder Mo. I found his tinder!” You were screaming again but you couldn’t help it.

You were missing a Jeon Jungkook to rightfully scream at so poor Mom was bearing the brunt of your anger and maniacal laughter because your brain was having a hard time believing your luck.

“Wait, seriously? Did you match him?” Oh wait. Of course. There was still another step.

Wordlessly you swipe right, hard skipping a few beats in anticipation. And when the screen shows that he swiped you right as well and that you could now message him, you’re laughing once more.

“So he did. Wow. What a piece of shit.” She’s also laughing albiet much more like a normal human being.

“I cannot believe this Mo. This fuckhead doesn’t read any of my messages for the last week and I find him matched to me on tinder?”

Just then, your phone vibrates. Telling Mo to hold on, you don’t want to believe that this is actually happening. You had just received a message from Jungkook. It had barely been a whole minute of you matching up with him on this app and he had already messaged you.

Jungkook: What has 36 teeth and holds back the Incredible Hulk? My zipper.

This must be a bad dream. Were the cameras of Punk going to start showing up form under your bed? Were you being punked? Not only was Jeon Jungkook just the worst partner out of all the group projects you had been in, he was most definitely a fuckboy. Who used terrible pick-up lines. Did he really not recognise you? Granted that your pictures were not the ones you had put up on facebook - it was still quite discernible that this was definitely you.

“Mo, he just sent me a horny pick-up line oh my god. I’m going to lose my mind.”

“Of course he did. I always thought he was a bit of a player. What did he say?”

When you read out the message, both of you are coughing from the laughter. This was too ridiculous and just very much like something that would happen to you. You had a group project due in less than two days and your group mate had turned out to be a bit of a horny bastard that was more concerned with getting his dick wet than messaging you back.

“You need to message him back, y/n. Pour the cold water on him already and tell him how badly he fucked up.”

“No way! I bet you he’s going to never message me back. At least on tinder i’m going to get a reply. Just how the hell do I ask him about the paper that he should’ve emailed me, like, yesterday? Ugh.”

“Just message him back, firstly. Or lose the only communication you just got. Do you know what dorm he’s in?”

“No idea.” Typing your reply and deleting it - much like your assessment that you were working hard on. Unlike him.

You: Hulk always was my favourite Avenger :)

“You did not just say that! Grossssss.” Yeah. Humouring fuckboys was exclusively for post 6 tequila shots Y/n.

Chuckling at your own response, you’re trying to keep your cool while trying to keep Jungkook’s attention so he doesn’t stop messaging you.

“Mo, wait. I just had an idea.”

“Please, y/n, violence is not the answer.”

“I won’t hurt him you knob. Okay talk to you later!” Not a lot anyway.

“I’m telling the police I don’t know you if they come around tomorrow! Bye!”

Making a face at your phone for good measure - you go ahead with your plan. There was no way you were letting Jeon Jungkook get away that easily. You’d been working so hard this semester. Harder than you have ever tried and you would not let his sloppy self to bring down your grade on an assessment that was worth 40% of your grade. Nearly half. Neither did the people in your group deserved it.

“Just you wait, Jeon. I’m going to kick your horny ass.”

Jungkook: let my Hulk destroy any traces of bad fucks you’ve had.

Your eyes are almost bulging out of your head at his brashness. Did he really just ask you to fuck? This is the second thing he has said to you and it’s him asking to fuck you. You can’t believe how much of a textbook fuckboy he was. When you haven’t responded for a few minutes, you get another message form him.

Jungkook: if that was too forward ^-^

Jungkook: then what i said was a lie lol.

Jungkook: I'm probably the best fuck you’ll ever have.

You cannot believe your eyes. With each message, Jungkook is either confusing you or making you shake your head at how exactly like all the other boys on tinder he is. This was hands down, the longest conversation you have had with Jungkook directly. In the group chat he generally adressed everyone, shooting haphazard apologies right before meetings. Saying he would not be able to make it. It had frustrated you to no end as the date for submission got closer and closer. And to see him reply quicker than you, on tinder no less, was beyond infuriating.

You: Well then. Prove it.

You: Where do you live?

You doubted that Jungkook would be reluctant to give you his address. That’s just not something you see happening. Maybe he preferred to go to the girl’s place? That wouldn’t matter to you either. Though convincing him to bring his laptop with him would be a challenge but you were fine to let him work on your own. There was no way you were letting him go without coughing up his part.

Jungkook: you sure?

You: wanna fuck. Hurry up.

Jungkook: you’re so sexy :)

You were going to literally lose it. Not sure why you were biting the inside of your cheek so hard to stop yourself from laughing at his messages. Jungkook was the epitome of a snapchat fuckboy. It was much more hilarious than you anticipated. You were expecting to be feeling the singular emotion of sheer hostility. But you were having too much fun with this. Especially when you weren’t going to actually fuck him but seeing how eager and self-assured he was, this was all the more pleasant.

Jungkook texts you his address and you let him know that you’ll be there in around 20 minutes. He lived surprisingly close. Though him staying in an all male rich residential college was definitely not a surprise. Only kids with a lot of disposable income and no worries of being evicted avoided doing any actual school work. The rest of you were not privy to such luxury. The more you thought about it the more you knew how gratifying it will be to show up at Jeon Jungkook’s door with a pile of notes and your laptop. He was in for a treat.

Dressing in that one little black dress you had was only part of the plan. An attempt to fool him one last time before you handed him the checklist of what he had to do. You shrug on a large jean jacket that fell below your bottom to conceal your provocative dress, grab your bag after stuffing all the necessities and then set out the door. Dialling Momo’s number, you let her know where you will be incase anything happens. You could never be too careful.

“Yo, I’m going to Cornell college. Jungkook apparently lives there so I’m going to meet him.”

“Are you serious? He told you his address?!”

“Sure did.”

“I pray for his soul.”

“He made me suffer far longer! Whose side are you on, traitor?!”

“Yours but knowing you, he’s in for a LOT. Okay stay safe.”

“Yeah yeah. He needs to be safe not me.”

“Yeah that was what I was saying. Anywhore. have fun.”

“Bye.”

The closer you get to the college, you are starting to hear loud music. Was this even allowed on colleges? Were there not any volume restrictions given what time it was and the fact that it was managed by onsite staff? Arriving on the level Jungkook told you his room was, 4th, the music is even more noticeable. The sign pointing to the common room was where most of the bass was coming from and you guess maybe there is a function going on. Though the closer you walk, you realise that this was not just any event. This was a party. The cracks in the door gave away to the activities happening inside the large hall. Deciding not to wait any longer, you text Jungkook again. Being as serious as you can be to get him to meet you outside instead of carrying your backpack with you inside.

You: I’m here to fuck, not party.

Jungkook: it’s a good party tho. We can slowly take it back to my room ;)

You: I’ll find someone else.

You hope he takes your bluff.

Jungkook: love it when you order me around baby.

Jungkook: don’t forget who’s in charge. Me.

You can’t help but roll your eyes, still smirking at your phone. No matter what your initial intentions were, you had to admit that playing with Jungkook was fun. He was unacceptably attractive and looked like the type of guy you would reduce to tears. But none of that tonight. You had to stay focused. You’re about to type another message to speed him up but he beats you to it.

Jungkook: room is unlocked. go in. i’ll be there in a minute.

Letting out a whoosh of air you’d been holding, you head down the hall, further away from the heavy bass and the party music. Somewhat hesitantly, you open the door to the room number he gave you. Nothing out of the ordinary. His room wasn’t messy. It was tidy. No sign of books. Just a bunch of sketches and film negatives strewn about on his study desk. Shamelessly, you snoop around, trying to find any evidence that he studies at all. So far, you’d only found an industry grade recording mic, two different types of cameras and some more unused camera reel.

Getting out your notes and the checklist you were going to hand to Jungkook, you get everything ready for when Jungkook arrives. You were not going to let him get away with this. Just another minute later, you can hear the footsteps getting closer. And for a moment, so does your heartbeat. You were quite confident in yourself but there was always a chance that Jungkook was more than a harmless oversexed college boy. All of the very rational fears are thrown out the window, however, as soon as the black mop of hair comes into view. Jungkook was incredibly handsome. Even moreso than his pictures. His hair was longer than the last time you saw him months ago. The long strands of inky black hair fell endearingly in his face, just to the middle of his eyes, parted right in the middle and curling slightly. He wore a long sleeved shirt with hip-hugging jeans that almost made you drool visibly. The saliva was positively pooling in your mouth but you swallowed it quickly to avoid embarrassment.

Now, you were angry. You really were. You needed this assessment finished so you could start on other projects and without Jungkook finishing up his part, there was no way you would have finished yours on time. But you would be a bold faced liar if you didn’t admit that you were oh so tempted to abandon your vendetta and not ride him like a bronco. You could tell that unfortunately, unlike other men who strutted about with empty words - Jungkook would be the best you would have in a while.

And when he smiles, it’s not any easier.

“Hey you.”

“Hi.” Desperately trying to keep your voice even, you smile coyly.

Jungkook locks the door, running a hand through his hair before he stalks towards you. Confident as ever. You bite your lip, baiting him even further before you strike. Just when he gets close enough to you, you hold out an arm to keep him from touching you.

“God, you’re even more sexy in person.”

“Uh-uh, be patient.” He’s blissfully unaware, just smirking in return as he watches your hands roam his chest before going up to his face. Taking a step closer to him, you rake your nails up his neck, leaving little white lines from the scratches.

“Close your eyes, Jungkook.” Jungkook, ever the obedient boy, closes them quickly. Awaiting your next move.

You can’t help yourself when he looks like this. Completely immersed in the feel of your hands. He was a good few inches taller than you but your platformed sneakers made it easier for you to teach him a lesson. His dark eyelashes kissing the tops of his cheeks, face so relaxed you would think he’s sleeping. You deserved to play a little at least, right? Leaning forward, you stop with the internal rationalising and just make the move.

Your lips meet his in a fiery kiss. His stoic figure melting as soon as your lips lock, hands grabbing at your waist while his tongue grazes your bottom lip. Jungkook is moaning in the kiss like he’s taking his first gulp of water after roaming the desserts. Momentarily, you forget your purpose for even being here in the first place. Wrapping your hands in his tempting long tresses and pulling, making even more sweeter noises to spill past his lips. He’s panting and restless. Moving his body against yours like he’ll die without it. Moving him backwards, you push him agains his swivelling study chair that was conveniently faced the right way.

His hands are all over you as soon as he’s down on the chair with your legs straddling his thighs on either side. All you can feel are his lips and his tongue and his hands. All over you, sliding your jacket off your shoulders to travel his kisses down another path. The desperate intake of oxygen is enough to bring your head back in the game, barely. With Jungkook nipping away at the now exposed skin of your shoulders and neck, it’s hard for you to stay focused. Especially when the hard tent in those sinfully tight jeans is now pushing against your softest part. He’s impossibly hard and you’re impossibly soft down there. It’s a lethal combination because neither of you can live without the other being pressed against each other. When you push down on him he pushes his hips up with even more ferocity, moaning louder with every illicit rub of the thickness between his thighs.

You’re addicted to the feeling and not sure how you’ll centre yourself enough to do what you actually came to do. God was really making you eat your words, huh? You were so close to ripping all his clothes off and fucking his brains out. You bet he’ll make the prettiest sounds when you ride him. His whimpers and moans just from gyrating up against you were enough of an indication. Sliding your hands back up in his hair, you yank it back from your neck to see his sweaty, glistening face looking up at you. He looked slightly inebriated. You had tasted the traces of vodka in his kiss but you had a feeling that a lot of his current state had to do with you and not the liquor.

“Jungkook?” He shamelessly rut his hips against yours, not fully hearing you, lost in his own lusty haze.

“Yeah?” Your lips close around the soft cartilage of his earlobe, tugging and flicking with your tongue, illiciting more salacious noises out of him.

“How’s the assignment coming along?” It takes him a few seconds to respond but the urgency with which he was pawing at you has slowed to a halt like a broken down car.

“Huh?” Pulling back completely, you stare him right in his twinkly eyes that look like a deer caught in the headlights.

“The paper you’re writing on modern cinema?”

“How... how do you know about that?” You smile at him sweetly. Before you flick him across his forehead.

“Ow! What the hell?”

“I should be saying that you harlot!”

“Harlot? really? You were all over me just now. You are all over me!” You’re surprised he knows the meaning of the medieval insult.

“Don’t try and weasel out of this! I’ve been waiting for your finished part since yesterday!”

“Wait... you’re y/n, y/n?”

“Took you long enough.”

“With your tongue down my throat? I wonder why.” You cannot believe you are arguing with a boy whilst still in his lap with his hands holding on to your waist.

Jungkook is trying his hardest to deflect and make you seem like the desperate one when he had been the one to want to fuck you from the get go. Getting off his lap, you fix your dress, tugging it down a little since the assault from Jungkook had almost bared your ass. Jungkook is still sitting in his study chair, dumbfounded.

“Finish your part of the discussion Jungkook. I have to write the conclusion and submit the paper.”

He is still staring. And now your eyes are travelling down to his thighs. Particularly the large bulge a little further up. A very substantial bulge that makes your mouth water once more.

“Jungkook!”

“Sorry, what? I just had a dream that a crazy girl tried to get me to do my homework right before we were going to fuck.”

“Listen here you little shit,” You grab Jungkook’s chin, gently despite his theatrical reactions, tilting it up to look you in the eyes. His reactions are so comical you almost laugh. “I’ve worked too hard for you to just give me piss poor, last minute effort. I’m here until you finish it.”

“You cannot be serious.” Letting go of his chin, you step back, folding your arms against your chest for good measure. Raising an eyebrow for him to challenge you.

“You expect me to write a thousand something words with this,” He points between his legs, you roll your eyes, “still here? No way.”

“I don’t remember giving you a choice, pretty boy.”

“You think I’m pretty?” So pretty. But he didn’t need to know that. You swivel his chair around back to face his desk.

“Less talk and more work!”

“Y/n, you can’t- can’t make me!” He’s throwing his hands around like a child and it’s a little too cute for an annoying boy like him who’s put you through so much anxiety. Sitting on his bed, swinging your legs as your eyes look around at the paintings, you let him huff and puff.

“Oh yeah? Guess I’ll have to call the cops because of the weed you have.”

His nose scrunches up adorably. “I don’t have any weed.”

“But I do. Who will they believe?” His eyes widen once more as he realises what you’re saying.

“Are you seriously blackmailing me?” You nod, smiling brightly. Jungkook turns back around, head in his hands as he mutters to himself how his tinder hookups are always crazy.

“Hey! I wouldn’t be here if you did your work! or replied to any of my messages.”

“Um, I was going too? I was busy.”

“Taking vodka shots? Yeah I could tell.” The mention of the kiss is bringing a rosy flush to Jungkook’s cheeks. Such an uncharacteristic reaction for a guy with his looks and his confidence.

He was that much more appealing to you because of how he contradicted his own personality. You knew he was one of those boys who acted all tough but secretly wanted to be bossed around. Told to do this and that. Made uncomfortable and maybe slightly humiliated. They lived to please. And the way Jungkook had melted into your body almost as if asking for guidance earlier, you knew he was exactly like that. He may not even know it yet but you could have him in the palm of your hands in a matter of minutes.

“What do I get in return?” He’s still grunting his disapproval, but looking through the notes you put on his desk anyway.

“A good grade and a life longer than 22?”

“You’re crazy.”

“All the more reason for you to be quiet and work!” He pouts at you before quietly looking through the notes and logging into his laptop.

When you’re satisfied he’s actually working, you lay down on his bed, making yourself comfortable knowing that it will take him at least an hour to finish his part. You had practically handed him all the points, he just had to write his own opinion and synthesise the evidence you had collected. The part of discussion required each student in the group’s own thoughts and thus you couldn’t just make them up on Jungkook’s behalf. Nor did you want to. You were done doing two people’s work back in your freshman year. These were advanced level classes and you weren’t going to ruin your grade because of one person.

Thirty minutes later, you’re almost about to doze off when you see Jungkook getting up from his chair in your periphery. Sitting up in a flash - though a little dizzy - you point an accusatory finger at Jungkook. Said boy has stopped mid-standing up.

“Don’t you dare Jeon! Get back in that chair and finish your work.”

“Jesus.” He’s holding his head in his hands once more before he starts whining again. “Y/n, please. Can’t I just do this tomorrow and send it to you then?”

You think about it. You do. “And have you go off the face of the planet again? No way.”

“Please.” He drags out the syllables, pouting and blinking up at you and it almost works.

“No. Not a chance. Just finish it ASAP and I’ll edit it. But finish writing it. The sooner you’re done the quicker I’ll be out of your hair.”

He glares at you. And not the scary, tough man glare that might make you slightly nervous and fidgety that you’re getting on his nerves. It’s a glare a kid gives you when you tell them no more TV or no more xbox. It’s the most adorable thing you’ve seen Jungkook do tonight. Or maybe you’re just sleep deprived. Either way, you wanted to kiss the hell out of him. But you turn your head away, faux annoyance ebbed into your features as you wait for him to start writing again.

It works for another half hour, Jungkook now actually typing more than he’s complaining. It was only a thousand words that he had to write but there was a lot of information that needed to be condensed in those thousand words which meant he was typing and then deleting, repeating the process again and again until he looked to be halfway through. You were impressed at how much he was getting done. Maybe it was your watchful gaze that was making him perform at his peak. You were now just hoping that whatever he wrote was actually plausible and not just rubbish to get you out of his room.

“I can’t believe you’re making me work with a boner. You could’ve at least gotten me off.” His pout his still there as he types casually.

“Stop being a brat and keep working.”

“Yeah? You’re going to make me write lines? ‘I am a brat’.” He chuckles to himself like he’s burnt you to a crisp with that one comment.

Taking your hand off of your face, you sit up. You watch the way his biceps bulge under his shirt as he types away at his laptop, legs splayed wide under his desk as he supported a semi. It was still a sizeable dent but nowhere near as daunting looking as before. But none of that diminishes your desire for him. You watch him talk to himself quietly as he types, but now stuck somewhere as he types and deletes and then types a sentence again.

You’re not sure what sets it off. Maybe it’s your frustration or that you think he owes you something more than just this. Maybe it’s the way he’s sitting? There are a lot of reasons you can use to justify your serious and formidable attraction to him. But you cannot deny that it was him from the get go. Just him in all his submissive glory that made you attracted to him. And that attraction was now getting the best of you. Maybe it was time to torture him in another way.

“No. I’ll do something much more to your liking.”

His head turns back around fast, fingers halting at his keyboard while he inspects the drunken look in your eyes. Slowly, you spread your legs, hands bracing yourself as they clutch the sheets on either side of you. Your heart is racing at the look in his own eyes. Primal and needy.

“Get on your knees Jungkook.” His chest is rising and falling much quicker than yours. Like he’s holding himself back.

You patiently wait for him to listen to your instructions, watching him. Never breaking eye contact. You know it’s new to him. It’s too obvious for you to deny it. But you relish the look of surprise every time you say something he doesn’t expect. Slowly, get’s up from his chair. Never taking a step further as he drops to his knees, crawling forwards until he’s right infant of you. The room is not that big at all so it doesn’t take him long. Now, his wide, doe eyes look at you. Inquisitive and aroused and it turns you on even more. He’s all man with hard ridges and bulging muscles but the way he’s looking at you right now makes you feel like at the centre of his world.

“Are... are you going to- to make me eat your pussy?” the explicit question sends your nerve endings on fire.

You’re a second away from grabbing his hair and shoving him right between your legs but the way his soft mouth says the dirty words - it makes you feel a very different kind of way. Now it’s you who can’t stop staring at him. Thinking about what else he has up his sleeves. You expected him to be vocal but never this. He is bold and shy all at the same time.

“Would you like that, Jungkook?” His eyes drop between your legs again, watching the way your panties cling to your increasingly wet folds.

Jungkook is moving between your legs more, eagerly nodding so the strands of his fringe rustle up and down in his face. His arms are going under your thighs, gropping them for good measure before he looks up at you with those eyes again.

“Please.” He’s almost whispering, longing lacing his every word. “Please, y/n. Please let me taste you. ‘wanna taste you.”

His words have turned into pleas and the pleas turn into kisses alongside your inner thighs and then any place Jungkook can get his lips and tongue on. Everything else is forgotten. It’s just you laying on his bed while Jungkook tries to get a taste of you anyway he can. His lips travel up to your covered mound, never daring to move the piece of fabric holding him back from his destination. Opting to only kiss over it, lick his way up your clit through the thin cotton that’s now moulding to your swollen folds.

“Do- do you deserve it, Jungkook? For putting me through so much h-headache? Oh.” Your moans accompany almost every word. Fingers laced into Jungkook’s luscious hair as he continues his hurried tasting of your arousal.

His response is mumbled between your legs. You watch his veiny hands repeatedly grab at the flesh of your thighs. Kneading it desperately like he’s trying to distract himself from doing something else entirely. A yelp leaves his mouth at your tug on his hair. Pale skin covered in a thin sheen of sweat. He looks like an addict when he is looking at you like you’re giving him his fix and God, you want to kiss his swollen lips.

“Answer me, brat. Do you deserve anything from me?”

“N-No.”

“Right. Yet you’re still begging to taste me like the needy little slut you are. Hm?”

Jungkook is whimpering, his lids fluttering. He doesn’t expect the smack across his face, a little too hard for what you had originally aimed for. The surprise is evident and for a moment you’re worried he’s going to be upset. Instead, his breathing is picking up even further.

“Answer me when I speak to you.”

“Y-Yes... Noona.” The breath is almost sucked out of you at his timid tone. And it only makes you want to push him further.

“Good boy.” His eyes are lighting up at the praise like hundreds of little galaxies called them home.

Sliding down towards the edge of the bed, you let your legs hang off, letting your toes touch the floor. Jungkook is still on his knees, watching you manoeuvre yourself around his bed before you reach for the hem of your dress. Watching his every facial expression as you strip. He looks up at you wide-eyed, taking in your soaked underwear and the thin black bra where your nipples pointed right at him. You can see his hands twitch by his side. You’d pushed them off you when you’d changed your position and were surprised at how calm and obedient Jungkook was being. Contrast to how much of an argumentative brat he was. But you had a sneaking feeling that he liked it when you called him that.

You were trying to remain calm yourself. Not give too much away on the dilemma you held inside your head. Thinking if you should take this any further. Though it was a little too late now, you guess. You were practically naked, wetter than ever before as Jungkook watched you with his wide doe eyes. Hunger evident with every flit of his gaze. You would feel cruel if you stopped at this point. So you let the rational part of your brain take a backseat and letting the consequences of tonight berate you in the morning after. Sliding your palms down your stomach, straight inside your soaked panties, you stroke yourself ever so slowly. Holding his heated gaze with cloudy eyes.

“Noona...” It sends another jolt of arousal throughout your already overheated body. He’s biting his plump bottom lip, sliding his hand up and down carelessly on to his erection that had grown considerably in the past fifteen minutes. Jungkook looks like the embodiment of desperation and it makes you rub yourself a little faster. Every time your fingers come in contact with your sensitised clit, you bite the urge to buck your hips brazenly.

“Yeah, baby? You want to see?” You hold out your wet fingers to him and in a flash, you feel his warm mouth around your digits. He moans loudly like he’s been relieved after years of drought.

“M-More. Please, Noona. I’ll do anything please, please.” Now that didn’t take long. Chuckling at his agonised face, you throw your head back, enjoying the relief your own fingers brought.

But you were torturing yourself too at this point. You wanted to replace your small fingers with Jungkook’s bigger and more vascular hands. You remember the view of his body from the glorified hookup app. Knew what he was hiding under the baggy shirt. The sweet whimpers and ‘please’ sounds coming from him were a delicacy on their own.

“Take my panties off then. With your mouth. Don’t use your hands... or else.” Your tone is stern enough to give you that satisfying flash going through his eyes.

In seconds, he’s leaning forward on his hands and knees, eyes never leaving yours as he bites the cotton on your hips, dragging it down. The act itself is a little clumsy. In his haste, Jungkook is taking twice as long should he use his hands. But something about his complete compliance, his willingness to be accepted by you and his utter devotion to pleasing you is the ultimately your undoing. This may be a power trip but you were thoroughly getting ruined during it.

At last, the cotton has reached your ankles. Quickly, you shrug off your dress as well, completely naked. He’s placed small kisses in greetings before he takes them off completely. Out of breath and out of his mind. The glazed look has taken a permanent vacation in his eyes and you were getting high on it. Jungkook was a communicator. If it wasn’t his mouth relaying the naughty words to you then his eyes were holding yours hostage, smouldering.

Bracing your hands behind yourself and never breaking away from his eyes, your ankles part. Jungkook’s eyes are automatically falling on the mess between your legs but he doesn’t dare move. Awaiting your instructions. Jerking your chin towards his general direction, you silently bring his attention back to his overly dressed self.

“Lose the pants.” His hands make fast work of his jeans. Falling back on to the ground to push them off.

“Uh-uh. Keep them on.” His eyes widen at your command to keep the underwear on. You weren’t about to just let him have it.

Not yet.

“Noona...” The high pitched noise of protest only makes your nostrils flare. You wanted to live out your every dirty fantasy with him if he sounded this sweet with just watching. The desire was making your head spin and your palms sweat.

“Yeah?”

“Please... I’ll do anything.” His eyes twinkle in the dim light as he kneels infant of you.

“I’ll eat you out for hours, let you sit on me face until I can’t breathe. Let you ride my tongue until you can’t cum anymore. Just please... fuck me.” The last two words leave him in such agony that for a second it truly sounds like he’s in pain.

Which is ridiculous given the ted talk he just gave on the Perfect Words To Say to Ruin Y/N and Her Panties. You’re the one currently in pain from clenching your jaw so tight. Resolve like a skinny rubber band about to snap. Dirty talk was the chink in your armour. And by the way Jungkook’s face lit up and his words became a lot more sure and confident, you knew that he was weaponising his skill to control you fully. And you needed to put him in his place before you gave up your pride and rode him until you ran out of stamina or died from your body overheating. Whichever happened first.

“Get up.”

“Fuck yes-“ Jungkook’s blubbering about how you’re the hottest person he’s ever seen and that he knows he can blow your mind while you push him back on the bed and straddle his meaty thighs. When he begins to push down your panties, you push his hands off and rest them on his sides.

“Keep them there or you won’t be coming. Understood?”

His curls bounce around his face as he nods, chest heaving when he looks at your hips move over the biggest bulge you’ve felt under you. You would’ve thought that he’d stuffed his underwear with socks if you couldn’t feel the burning heat his cock was pressing in to you, even through his boxers. Each roll of your hips pressed him to your every crevice like two puzzle pieces fitting in to complete the picture.

“Oh fuck-... You feel so good noona. I-I’m going to cum if you keep going.” He’s resorted to use his hands at his sides to push him upwards, pressing himself with every gyrate of your hips downward on him.

“Yeah? you’re gunna cum from just this? Is noona making you feel really good?”

Jungkook is lost in soaking up every sensation like a drunkard. Gaze not leaving where your hips met. Furrowing his eyebrows in deep concentration as he thrust his hips up, rocking you off balance slightly. Your hands slide into his sweaty curls, pulling them hard enough to yank his beautiful face up and close to your own.

“Answer me what I ask you a question.” And he whines. Or moans. Nevertheless it’s a lethal mixture of the two and you’re about to kiss him senseless.

“Yes. I-I feel really good. Noona is- oh fuck- g-gunna make me cum.”

“And are you going to?” He looks up at you nervously, trying to speaking amidst every roll of your flaming core onto his dick. It was getting harder and harder for you to speak as well.

“N-No?”

“Good. Because only good boys get to cum. Not needy sluts like you.”

Now Jungkook whimpers like a wounded animal. Because you’ve upped the ante. Holding onto his shoulders while you grind down on his throbbing cock just the right angle so your clit is receiving the mind-numbingly pleasurable stimulation. You were going to cum any minute and it looked as if he was too.

“F-Fuck. I’m going to cum Jungkook. Your cock feels so good.”

“Noona please. Please s-stop. I-I’m going to cum-“

“That’s not my fucking problem. If you want me to fuck you then you better not. Understood?”

He looks utterly panicked. Torn between letting himself go to the unbelievable pleasure of this act alone and wanting to hold back and obey your every command. Jungkook’s lip is bitten red, chest heaving and eyes watering as he watches the erotic sight of your brazen bouncing on his lap. You’re putting on a show just to make it that much more difficult for him to hold back. But he somehow does. Watching your face contort with pleasure as your head is thrown back. Your moans are loud and lewd. Designed just to rile him up to the point of breaking.

“Oh god. I’m- I’m gunna cum baby.” With a shout, you’re riding out wave after wave of the liquid pleasure running through your veins like molten gold.

It takes a solid minute for your eyes to focus on a singular object. Or a person. More specifically, an incredibly handsome, glistening, starry eyed, muscular, put-micheal-angelo’s-david-to-shame, strikingly adorable man. Jungkook looked on the verge of losing his sanity. Yet, he didn’t stop watching you collect yourself, flicking the stray strands over your shoulder before you pressed your mouth to his.

You brought your mouth to his and kissed him hungrily. When your lips met, you heard him make a tiny sound. His body went rigid, and he wasn’t reciprocating. You think it might have been down to shock, though, because when your tongue slid past the seam of his lips, he opened them willingly and trembled against you.

Your fingers dug into his thighs, and he pulls you closer. You were on fire, felt like you were melting into him. Never before had a single kiss gotten you so worked up. She tasted like chocolate and strawberries. Jungkook rocked forward, and then you felt his tongue move expertly against yours. Of its own accord, a groan emanated from deep in your chest. When he brought his hands to your neck and massaged your throat, you whimper. He was hard as a rock and you finally wanted to reward him for holding out this long.

He’s chasing your lips when you break away, sliding his kisses down your neck as if breaking the contact will be fatal for him. “You did so good baby. Such a good boy.”

The praise seems to rejuvenate his body. Not that he needed to. He was bursting at the seems with testosterone. The longer he went on without a release, the more unhinged Jungkook seemed. The incongruence of his raw masculinity with his alarmingly meek behaviour towards you was something you didn’t understand but it affected you the most. He surprised you with every move and you wanted nothing more than to own him completely.

Jungkook makes a noise in his throat at the praise, sliding his hands down to caress the globes of your ass. “I’ve been a good boy. Now fuck me.”

His words are steady, deliberate and to the point. Scratch everything you said about Jungkook being meek. They send shudders down your spine where his hands reside. This was a man who looked on the verge of tearing something apart. And judging from the current situation, he was going to be tearing you apart. You’d let him, gladly. But being the cocktease you are- you push him even more.

“And if I don’t, little boy? Gunna beg?” A heartbeat later, you’re the one on the soft mattress and it’s Jungkook that’s hovering over you.

He shrugs nonchalantly. “Then I’ll fuck you noona.”

You’re not too mad because you’re wetter than before and the change in his demeanour has you besides yourself with the need to feel him inside. Jungkook’s teeth are tugging on your hardened nipples. Circling them with his tongue before sucking the puffy buds tenderly. The pressure of his suction is so delicious that you might just cum from this.

“God! Jungkook, b-baby please. Fuck your noona.” He grins around a nipple, hands sliding inside your soaked core.

“I don’t know. Maybe I should make you wait like you made me. Hm?”

“Don’t be a brat. I’ll stuff your mouth next time with a sock Jeon J- oh fuck!”

He’d slid down your body, his kissing every inch. Your stomach, your hip bones, your thighs.

“I’d rather it be your pussy.” He whispered, bringing his mouth to your wetness, and then licked.

“Ahhh,” you cried out, clutching a handful of his hair. Jungkook chuckled and went at you in earnest. You were so soft and silky beneath his tongue. He met your gaze from below and came up for air. Jungkook watched you for a second before dipping his wet mouth lower again. The noises of your arousal pornographic. He saw you fist the sheets in your hands, your hips rising up off the bed when he sucked your clit into his mouth and flicked it with his tongue. He added some fingers to the equation, savoring the hot, tight feel of you.

“Please,” you murmured. “More.”

So he gave you more. He gave you everything. Before he knew it, you were touching your breasts, pinching your nipples as he devoured you, and you swear you could have come from the sight of Jungkook between your legs alone. he was simply glorious. Your voice was starting to get hoarse. Getting close to the edge before Jungkook ripped his mouth away.

“No! Jungkook, please.” You’re frustrated and angry and horny that he would do that. Even if you did the same thing to him.

He was testing you once again but the raw need in his eyes told you that you were testing him too.

“I’ll fuck you now noona. Nice and good. You want this cock right?” He’s holding his straining erection heavily, sliding down his boxers to discard them besides his bed.

You moan out your answer, opening your legs wide in invitation.

“Just fuck me before I change my mind.”

“Yeah?” His tone is mocking. His eyes twinkling with a cheeky grin on his face. You almost get up to kiss him because he looked so fucking adorable and hot and sexy at the same time.

Thankfully - or not? - he’s pulling you to the edge of the bed and in seconds, he has pulled you close to his chest. He circles the engorged head of him in your slit before pushing in to the hilt in one thrust. The sheer girth of him has you yelping, needing to adjust to the length of him as well. But Jungkook doesn’t allow you the courtesy of that.

His legs are spread in a powerful stance as his hands grip your legs from behind the knees. And then he’s thrusting. He’s fucking into you so deep, you can feel him in your throat. You must look like a fish at this very moment with your mouth opening and closing without any real sound. He feels hot and thick, like molten lava in your veins. you’re finally finding your voice when angles his hips slightly to the left - biting a spot that has you blinking up at the ceiling full of stars.

“Jungkook! Oh god. Oh f-fuck. You’re so good baby. S-So good.”

“Yeah? You like how deep I am in your pussy? Answer me noona.” He’s quickening his pace, snapping his hips punishingly making you release a guttural scream.

“I love it. So much.”

You watch the sweat drip off his forehead, the dimples in his cheek now very prominent as his tongue peeks out the corner of his mouth. He’s a sight you want to imprint on the back of your eyelids. You can see his lose his resolve, the creases in his forehead slowly deepening as the pleasure becomes too much for him.

“God you feel so wet and tight n-noona. You look so hot when you cum. I w-wanna make you squirt.”

Your eyes bulge out of your head at his admissions. It seems like he’s lost all his filter, chasing the mind numbing pleasure he felt earlier. His words are bringing you even closer to the edge and your throat now begs for relief when you let out another yell as he pushes you up the bed while still fully seated inside you.

“I’m gunna cum noona. I j-just need to... to- I don’t. I don’t wanna h-hurt you-“ His sweet face is contorted with worry, still thrusting steadily. You finally understand his point after a few seconds. Taking you twice as long to comprehend anything with the plethora of feelings your body was feeling right now.

Cupping his face, you told yours upwards to place a small kiss on his wet lips. “It’s okay baby. You won’t break me. Just let go.”

Jungkook’s eyes are glassy and he stares in yours for a moment too long because your heart is doing summersaults, heading straight for your mouth. Too much emotion crammed into his big eyes and you just wanted to strangely hug him close to your chest. This day has been strange enough - so you do. You Pull Jungkook close to you. His face tucks itself in the crevice of your neck, whining and moaning. His breath tickles and sends shivers down your spine. And then he circles his hips against yours.

From the hard and deep fucking, Jungkook circles his hips into yours. Slowly at first, his pelvis rubbing against your clit in just the right way before he speeds up. His hands find their way down your back again, pushing your hips up into his own, making your centres feel everything. You can feel him in every fold of your core and it’s all too much.

“Oh god.” Your hands scratching down his back, head tilted back, legs closing around his waist tightly.

“That’s it noona. Cum for me. Please, please. ‘Wanna feel you around my cock. ‘Wanna feel y-your cunt devour me. Cum.”

You scream so loud that you can hear a ringing in your ears. Vision flashing white as the indescribable pleasure starts in the pit of your stomach and coarse through your limbs all the way to the tips of your fingers and toes. It’s all consuming and breathtaking. Unexpected.

“I-I can’t hold it anymore. Can I-“ You’re unable to speak.

Still reeling from your orgasm, twitching from the sensitivity, but you nod anyway. You wanted Jungkook to let go inside of you. Wanted to give him the same pleasure he gave you. He was incredibly ethereal atop you. You wanted to see him come undone. And Jungkook was too far gone to think twice before hitching one of your legs up, the other arm grabbing the headboard as he thrust up inside you once again.

“Fuck, yes. God, you’re so good you’re so good. I could fuck you forever noona.”

His eyes are watering, tucking his face back into your neck again before he pistons his hips against yours rhythmically. The only sounds in the room being the tacky noise of skin slapping against skin, the obscene squelch from the steady arousal leaking between you both. You’re so delirious from the mix of pleasure and the deliciously addicting pain. AT some point, you’ve stopped screaming and only whimpers leave past your lips, legs falling lax around Jungkook and hands fisting the sheets.

“Cum Jungkook. P-Please baby. Cum for n-noona.”

“‘gunna cum. Am I good noona? your good boy?”

“You’re the best Jungkookie. Cum for your noona.”

“Fuck! Y/n, f-fuck.” He’s shouting something you can’t properly hear because of the ringing in your ears from your own release. Filling you with his hot release. The intense pressure that had been building between you has snapped the frail rubber band in your stomach again. And seems like Jungkook’s had too.

Moments pass, both of you trying to suck in air like it’s the last supply available. Then, Jungkook’s flushed face appears in front of yours with his signature cheeky smirk. He’s glowing.

“You squirted.”

“Shut up!” Your ears must be the shade of a tomato now as you swat his back for the comment. He lays besides you, cuddling up to your side with his leg laying on top of yours. Clinging to you like a koala and it’s too damn adorable. Damn it.

“It was hot. You’re amazing.” Your heart flutters a little too violently at that and you have to suck in another breathe, pulling the sheets off of him and completely bundling them on you.

“Hey!”

“Hm? You’re going to finish that assessment.” You grin innocently at him and try your hardest to not start howling with laughter when you can see his face fall almost in slow motion.

“Are you serious?” You just sent him a kiss before settling in his bed for maybe a 12 hour nap. Just a tiny nap.

“Noona!”

“I’ll give you head when you’re done. Be a good boy.”

With the most adorable pout you’ve ever seen on a grown man, you watch Jungkook pull up his boxers, stomping away to his study desk.

“Wake me up when you’re done Jungkookie.” Your sweet tone does little to get the pout off his face but he does smile the whole time he’s typing.

Of course, not that he let you see that

a/n: liked it? hated it? let me know!!

#bts smut #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook fluff #hope u like it!!!

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username-was-spoken-for · 3 years

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Party Dwellers Part 1

“I’m not jealous.” Saying it out loud doesn’t make the sick feeling any better. I bite my lip as I look in the mirror. The music from downstairs is loud and shakes the walls of the house. Whose house this is? I have no idea. I just just got in the car with my friends and we made our way to the huge houses in the suburbs.

It seemed like the average high school party when we pulled up. There were sweaty bodies all over each other in hopes of getting lucky. That constant smell of puke from the kids who got pressured to do something stupid. And of course clouds of cannabis that either made you gag or sniff out the source like a hound.

That’s all normal, that’s the shit I can handle. What I can’t handle is him, Wally West. I could make out his red hair even in the neon light filled house. He was sitting on the couch with a cup in his hand bobbing his head to the song playing on the speakers. His curly mop bounced with each movement. It wasn’t until someone bumped into me that I realized I was staring. Maybe I coul-No! I can’t, but maybe I can! I started walking through the crowd of bodies between me and Wally. People strike up conversations all the time at parties so this shouldn’t have been weird. Really it should have been easy. Wally’s so nice and social he probably wouldn’t mind talking.

I make it about a foot away before I notice her. Grace, Mackey...the swim team captain. The blonde, hazel eyed, sweet rack, and rich swim team captain. Now usually I have no problem with Grace, but seeing her all over Wally? Oh yeah, that’s a problem. A surge of anger went through me, then a cold feeling followed. I felt like my heart dropped to my ass. Any confidence I built up walking towards Wally went out the window. With another step I turned towards the right and made my way upstairs. I rushed through other guests and eventually found an empty bathroom. And that’s how I ended up here with wet eyes about a boy who doesn’t even know me. Thank God that the speaker downstairs can drown out any noise. Whether it’s moaning or my sniffles. I wanna go home but my friend with the car keys is currently MIA. So with that being said, I’m gonna go pop a perc and wait for this already shitty night to be over. With that thought I unlock the bathroom door and slam right into something.

“Why am I here?” I mutter to myself. I have training with the team tomorrow and if Barry found out I was here he would lose it. All these valid thoughts bounce around in my head as I keep walking into the huge house. I usually don’t go to these kind of things but sometimes the urge for teenage normalcy is strong. I've got at least experience a house party once! Who knows I might even have fun!

Wrong. It only took 15 minutes to realize that the food sucks and people from my school are still assholes. I don’t really know anyone here and the bitter taste from my drink doesn’t help my bad mood. Eventually I found an uninhabited couch and plopped down. The only upside to this whole thing is that the playlist is great! I know every song and vibrations from the beats feel pretty nice. I drown out everyone else and just listen to the music. For a minute it felt like I was in my own little world. This is just the escape I needed from—a solid body lands next to me. My right arm is overtaken by a warm chest and slender arms. I turn my head getting ready to go off on whoever is on me. The words died on my tongue when I realized who it was. Hazel eyes owlishly blinked up at me. “G-g-GRACE Mackey! Uhhh..hi!” I had to be dreaming. There’s no way one of the most popular girls in school is snuggled up on me like this. It’s not possible Grace Mackey’s boobs are on my arm! There’s just no way! My suspicions are answered when Grace finally opens her mouth to talk to me.

“Hiiii umm...Willy! Ya, Willy. Wha-what are you doin o-over here by yourseeeelf?”

Of course. She’s fucking hammered. I knew there was no plausible reason why Grace would be all over me. I put my cup down so I can try to pry Grace’s arms off me but to no avail. Damn those years of swimming really paid off. As I struggle I see someone walk up the steps. Was that, (Y/N)? She’s like the one of the few people who isn’t an asshole at my school!

“Uh, look Grace I’ve really gotta uhhh..PEE! I’ve really gotta pee so I’m gonna get up now.” Grace stiffens up and stares at me. Suddenly she starts to shake.

“PEE! BWAHAHAA! HE SAID PEE! OMG HAHAHA!” Grace doubles over to laugh at the nonexistent joke. I’m finally free from her clutches but also very confused. Maybe even a little scared.

As fast as I can without revealing my powers I race upstairs. I jump over slouched bodies and duck under flimsy limbs. She’s nowhere to be found. I know I saw her come up here. I even checked the very much “occupied” bedrooms. With a sigh and lean on the wall. Forget it, I might as well go home. The team is in a bit of a rough patch after the failsafe training. Life with my parents hasn’t made things any easier either. Times like these make me wonder if recreating that experiment was worth I-UGGH! Stop thinking like that Wally! I shake my head to rid myself of those negative thoughts. I push off from the wall and walk towards the bathroom at the end of the hall. Now I actually do have to pee but once I’m done I’m out of here. Plus mom and dad are probably asleep right now so I may not have to worry about them. So caught up in my thoughts I didn’t see the bathroom door open. Someone bumped right into me making me stumble. Luckily I caught myself and the person. And it’s just the person I’ve been looking for!

“Hey (Y/N)! Enjoying the party?”

#wally west #wally west x reader #kid flash x reader #kid flash #dc x reader #young justice #sorry about the spaces I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing

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stories-by-rie · 3 years

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Chapter 4 - Heart of Silver

Four years before Evelyn gets herself cursed, she helps Ariel with their Mare-situation, and meets up with a ghost.

words: 1967 || masterlist

Ariel’s whole apartment is their study, was what Evelyn had thought the first time she had entered it. She made sure to touch absolutely nothing as she followed them inside their bedroom. It was subtle, but the signs were clear to her. The sheets that looked simply tossed aside in frustration, the light disorder of everyday items, and the assortment of cheap sleep aids on the nightstand. What truly set these aside from any other plausible explanation, though, was the slight smell of foul balm.

“Is it on my bed? I feel like it is on my bed,” Ariel mumbled and looked with a frown around their room.

“That’s most likely. Many Mares don’t leave their host’s beds. They probably can still feel your dreams. You might want to change your sheets after this,” Evelyn answered. “Not because of the My Little Pony print, just because that beast is actually smelling really bad.”

Ariel just laughed at that and stepped into the corner, out of Evelyn’s way.

It had been nearly a full year since Evelyn had worked with ghosts and monsters, so the smell made her stomach turn at first. Ariel must have long gotten used to the odor. But as soon as she clasped her fingers around the vial in her pocket, her instincts kicked in. She pulled out the vial with the golden sleep sand, as well as the net. Carefully she placed the sand inside the net and then stepped back to watch the outcome. It did not even take two minutes – surely this had to beat some kind of record – until the Mare took the bait, its shape turning solid before their eyes as it lunged at the sand and Evelyn pulled the net together around it.

It was as if Ariel was woken out of some kind of stupor.

“Are you kidding me? Was that all?” they exclaimed and stared at the Mare, now visible to them once more. The rotten blue skin did nothing to comfort either of them, even if it was caught securely.

“Yup. The sleep sand smells like happy children's dreams, so Mares can’t resist the temptation. Though this one ran so fast, it did not seem that happy with yours, to be honest.”

“I told you I have weird dreams,” Ariel mumbled and crouched down to the Mare that was just the size of a golden retriever. Then they looked up and grinned. As if their experience with the monster was forgotten, just because it was dealt with. Evelyn grew a bit self conscious at the smile, and only managed to return it shallowly.

“Thank you. For your help. You’re really good at this. We should hunt monsters more often. It was really fun, even if the time with you was just this short.”

And that just sounded like Ariel had enjoyed spending time with her. Like they wanted to be friends and meet frequently for coffee, talk about problems and successes, trust each other with secrets – like friends do. Warmth and sadness spread through her. Sadness, because ever since she had seen Ariel in that club a few weeks ago, she had thought that Ariel was pretty cool, and that it would be fun to be their friend. Yet that thought was ultimately drowned out by the knowledge that Evelyn’s understanding of friendship was simply not reciprocated. She committed too much. Trusted too much. Eventually got hurt too much. Even if she dared to try, it had been too long and any knowledge about the how had been lost in time. All she was, was a constant stranger. Alienated to an extent where a simple friendship was an enigma to her, social norms were lost on her – really – she understood that Mare better than humans if she allowed her mind to put it that pathetically.

So, naturally, Evelyn did what she did best. She smiled, hummed, and then avoided them whenever she could. Just for a little bit of distance, she told herself in the beginning. Maybe another few weeks would be long enough without it being weird if she asked Ariel for a coffee. Or for hunting some ghosts. If Ariel would have been serious in their comment, they surely would approach her first anyway.

Really, that one exception with the Mare hadn’t changed anything. It was just that now that she had seen those monsters again, it was really easy to spot them. Like some border in her brain had been crossed, and now she was in a territory where they just were much more visible. And since professional companies were quite expensive for the people who had chosen not to get such specific insurance, it was just a necessity for Evelyn to help out every now and then. Perhaps, it was also that she felt a little more alive when she lured monsters in her traps and sent ghosts off.

As the matter would not leave her mind, she felt the need to talk about it with the liminal ghost that haunted the university’s library on Friday nights. It was not easy to meet her. Like most ghosts, showing her ghostly body to living humans was highly restricted, which in her case meant that she was only visible between one and four am, only to liminal people. Unluckily, Evelyn was one of those liminal people, such who were ghosts in heart.

“You look a little lost today,” Leonie said, tracing the lines in the wooden table with her ghostly fingers.

“You say that every time we meet,” Evelyn sighed, but couldn’t deny that it was true. From the look that the ghost was giving her, there was no reason to lie. “Lately, I have been working a lot as a ghost-hunter again,” she confessed. Speaking it out loud felt freeing. “Monsters and creatures and ghosts and,” she trailed off a bit, getting lost in her barely-there reflection of the library’s big panorama windows.

“And?” Leonie pushed gently.

“And all the like, you know?” Evelyn resumed, her voice a bit thinner now. She barely even knew what she had started that sentence for.

“Do you have fun?” Leonie looked at her intently, with her slight smile. The few lights at the library’s entry flickered.

Evelyn sighed and rested her head on her hand. “I suppose? I mean, I am really good at it. It was easy to forget how normal that kind of life has been. It feels a bit like I am falling back into it. Just that it is a soft fall. As if someone was holding me.”

Leonie smiled and the lights flickered. “Is there someone holding you?”

As if she was all-knowing. Of course, Evelyn’s thoughts instantly jumped to Ariel, even if she hadn’t met them since the Mare situation.

“No,” she mumbled and looked down onto the table. “It’s more the work itself that catches me.”

“I imagine it must be a little comforting to fall back into well-known hands.”

“Hm.”

“It must be easy to let go. If you know that you will be caught.”

Evelyn’s gaze flicked up to her for a second. Was it easy? It seemed impossible to say, even if it really should be.

After a few moments of calm silence, Leonie asked, “You don’t agree?” To which Evelyn really couldn’t answer anything, and hence settled on a tiny shrug. The time ticked by, both of them fine with the silence of the late night. It wasn’t the first time that Evelyn sat next to her, perfectly content with just not being alone. But this time, the ghost kept glancing over at her, waiting for her to speak about what she had come for.

“Leonie,” she finally gave in, slowly allowing herself to voice the thought that had been on her mind for a while now, “it does feel nice. And it is not really the work that fills me with this deafening feeling, really.”

“Then what is it?” Leonie asked and finally the words flowed out of Evelyn as if she had practised them.

“It’s just that it feels nice to be of use again. While studying, there really has been nothing at all for me to do. Except to learn for my own benefit. The work is different. I see the change and the happy faces when I am successful. I think it was a good decision to return to that. But it does not chase the feeling itself. And that person – Ariel – they gave me that. And I like them. I think I would enjoy being their friend. Maybe try to be at least. But honestly, I don’t understand what they want from me. I think it’s just work as well? I helped them with a job. I was useful. And I am not certain if I can do that. Become friends just out of usefulness, you know?”

Evelyn tapped her finger quickly on the table, trying to somehow get the pressure out of her that boiled and boiled and threatened to burn her from the inside. Unnamed feelings that wanted to be spilled. Bopping her leg up and down helped dissipate them a bit.

“How about you just talk about it with them?” Leonie suggested. Evelyn just scoffed.

“That would be so weird, and you know it. You don’t go to people and say ‘Hey, please give me your definition of friendship and also don’t use me for my skills because that might break my heart’.” She stared right at the ghost – through the ghost as a lamp flickered to life for a pathetic second – and then sighed. “It would be very easy, though. If I ever had the courage to talk to them like that.”

“What if you just stick around and find out? Nothing close yet. Just one or two meetings to test the waters?”

Leonie’s idea was reasonable. The logical thing to do. But still, Evelyn winced and looked away to the window front where the small town's lights were merely tiny dots.

“You are lonely,” Leonie stated as a matter of fact, not a question, and of course she was right. Evelyn thought a lot about it, and still didn’t know how to feel about it. There was a warmth to that loneliness.

“I chose to be alone. It was my decision,” she mumbled.

“But that is voluntary. Loneliness is not. Not always, at least. There’s a difference between those things, Evelyn. The nice kind is called solitude. You have passed that.”

Evelyn bit the inside of her cheek. Leonie always did that, saying things she didn’t want to hear. Even if she knew that she was often right, at least deep down. But so what? Maybe she had become lonely. That wasn’t that different from enjoying solitude.

“You know that it’s the chemicals. You have been alone too long. I’m pretty sure talking to dead people doesn’t count as socializing. See? I can make out how you are trying to hold back the tears. You know that I am right,” Leonie added and when Evelyn looked back to her flimsy eyes, the movement alone was enough to let the tears drop. “It’s okay to be lonely. I can only guess how hard it must be if the solitude that has been your home starts to feel like loneliness.”

Evelyn buried her face in her arms on the table, hiding away the tears and quiet sobs that she could not bear to show openly.

“Maybe,” Leonie whispered into the morning, one of her ghostly hands on Evelyn’s head, “it would be worth it to try it out, no? To fight back a bit, just in spite.” And with those words she was gone, the sky outside starting to turn more blue than black; enough to shy the ghosts away.

Not much later, Evelyn left too.

_____

previous chapter || WIP intro || masterlist || next chapter

#writeblr #novella #my writing #original fiction #fantasy #urban fantasy #ghosts #curses #wip; heart of silver #heart of silver chapter 4 #tw depression #tw rejection sensitive dysphoria #it's very light but also evelyn is crying so

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hansolmates · 4 years

Text

jjk; angel’s trumpet [bonus]

summary; one second, your life is flashing before your eyes and the next, you’re transported into a world exactly like your own. but the jungkook you meet in this world isn’t a renowned singer or your former almost-lover, in fact he has no clue who you are and why you know him so well. as you work to find your way home lost and confused, you conclude that you’re either dead or in the middle of the most wicked drug trip of your life. pairing; idol!jk x reader (f), alternatively film producer!jk x reader genre/warnings; fluff, angst, supernatural, idol!au, non-idol!au, alternate universes, themes of fate, language, alcohol consumption, in this chapter–nudity boobies! w.c; 2.2k a/n; why did a week go by so stinkin’ fast? i’m not ready to let go of this couple! that being said, i wouldnt mind posting some drabble babbles about these two or four. im utterly thankful for the love and passion my readers had for this, i had so many kind readers that kept me afloat through all of. i can’t wait to see you in the next one, and i hope you enjoy this little glimpse💕

[final] [bonus] -> masterpost

“You’re not Jimin.”

Jungkook’s eyes snap open, and he takes note of the change in air. Chalk it up to the open window or the fact that the rain’s evaporated, but he can’t help the pinch of pain in his heart as he realizes that you’re far, far gone from this world.

And in your place, is you. Not quite you, but it’s almost scary how easy it is to regard your visage and simple conversation.

“Jimin,” he repeats, as if he heard you wrong. “As in, Park Jimin? Tiny guy with a big ego?”

“Yes,” you reply blandly, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. Your eyes are sparkless, flickering between your state of nakedness and his state of nakedness. “I know I wasn’t exactly sober last night, but I distinctly remember telling him he’d be in my bed tonight,” and you regard Jungkook with a sort of pointed look, unable to decipher your situation, “but here you are. Still cupping by boob.”

Out of reflex, he squeezes his palm. Yep, that’s yours.

A little part of him also wants to yell to the heavens because you failed to tell him you were hooking up with Park Jimin before all of this.

Okay technically you didn’t, but the person in front of him did.

His heart is fresh and stinging like a hot cut on the asphalt. He watches you take in your surroundings, humming when you notice the new clothes on the rack and the way your desk has been rearranged. Jungkook is trying very hard to be patient, after all you’re a stranger and suddenly he feels like he’s the one that’s known you all his life. Oh, how the tables have turned.

You stretch, testing out your limbs as they pop and crackle at your command. You run a hand through your strawberry-smelling hair, and Jungkook has to grip the sheets to not go by instinct and take you right then and there on this mattress. With a shameless groan of satisfaction, you flop against your bed. Jungkook tries, emphasis on try, to not watch as your breasts bounce and the way your hair flows around your pillow like the angel you are, but he’s rendered smitten.

“Uh,” boobies boobies boobies.

You pointedly ignore his piss-poor attempt at coherent conversation, staring up at the ceiling. “Ho—ly shit,” you curse freely, heaving an exhausted sigh, “I feel so sore.”

“S-sore?” Great, he found his voice.

“Yeah, like I’ve been in a coma or something,” but you think nothing of it, summing it up as a crazy dream from alcohol poisoning. You sit up straight, reaching for your phone. It’s not on your desk, but instead you find something far more interesting.

You reach for your Midnight Blue Citrus candle, frowning at the contents. The wax is nearly burnt to the end, the tips of the wicks charcoal black and frayed. Waving your used candle in Jungkook’s face you blame, “What the fuck, did you use all of this last night? I just bought this like, literally yesterday!”

His face falls, “What? You’ve had that candle for forever—”

“And why the heck it is so hot in the middle of February?”

Oh.

Something dark and sad creeps up Jungkook’s stomach, and he hates to be the one to tell you. February was when it all started, and his life changed with the presence of you. Jungkook tells himself repeatedly that the woman in this room is simultaneously the person he’s loved since winter and the stranger he feels that he’s meant to love with time. Considering everything’s happening all at once understanding it is still hard, but he’ll try for you.

It breaks his heart to see how you look lost and confused, like a child woken up from a debilitating nightmare. Your lips are bitten red and purple, trying your hardest not to show fear in front of him, a stranger. You’re frustrated as you try your hardest to shut the windows to block the incoming humidity from last night’s rain.

He says your name, sweet and soft. “It’s almost summer,” he says, his voice calm and collected.

“So are you telling me, that wasn’t a dream?”

The two of you stare at each other, unmoving. He tries not to squirm under your gaze, you watch him intently, scraping at the edge of your brain for any ideas. You’re hugging yourself, arms wrapping against your breasts as if you’re trying to hold your body together in a way that alludes to any brokenness you felt over these past two months.

Neither of you break the silence, and there’s a bang and a crash. Jungkook flinches at the tell-tale signs of the unwanted intruder, the fling of keys across your wooden table and a shrill call of your name.

“Who’s that?”

“Probably Hoseok,” Jungkook answers reluctantly, his thumb rubbing between his brows.

He ignores the extra cool air against his naked bits when he throws the blankets off his lap. Ignores the way you pointedly, shamelessly check him out as he throws on his sweats and a t-shirt. To his dismay he can’t ignore the burn in his cheeks when he knows how you’re scrutinizing him like a one-night stand, trying to recollect any type of concrete thought that would seem plausible enough to explain why you woke up in bed with him.

Throwing open your bedroom door and leaving you there, he cards a hand through his rogue bedhead to face a frantic Hoseok.

“It’s so early,” Hoseok warbles to himself, impressed that he’s managed to cop fresh donuts and coffee at nearly 7AM.

Jungkook sees nothing but an orange blob and Hoseok’s head, bleary and vibrating. Rubbing his eyes he says, “You just realized how early it is? Couldn’t you have stopped by a little later?”

“No, I couldn’t!” Hoseok’s now invading Jungkook’s personal space, as if you weren’t the bridge between their threads of a relationship, as if he and Hoseok could be friends. “I woke up a few hours ago and I couldn’t go back to sleep. I felt it, Jungkook. It was like an episode of the Twilight Zone. The air shifted and I felt like I was between two parallel universes—I swear on my bad knee that I’m not going through a drug trip—and I felt the world turning and changing and it was so fuckin’ weird I had to come here as soon as Dunkin’ opened. Didn’t you feel it too?”

“Yeah,” Jungkook exhales, not bothering to hide the disappointment. He smiles sadly, “it’s definitely not her.”

Hoseok’s expression and excitement over the world’s converging falters, and he pulls Jungkook into a hug. They’re not particularly close and Hoseok’s smaller in size compared to Jungkook, but for those five seconds he feels comforted as he hugs him back.

“Why don’t you go home and chill out, I don’t mind explaining things to her,” Hoseok offers, “and I’ll call you later and let you know how it went.”

“Okay,” Jungkook replies, voice slow, “that sounds like a good idea, actually.”

The situation is royally messed up, and he hates that he can’t blame it on anyone. Jungkook is a practical man, and he knows that he has no use when Hoseok is here with donuts and coffee. More importantly, there is no use torturing himself by letting his heart break in the presence of you.

“What is this, a party?” Taehyung’s bare feet smack against the hardwood, and he plops himself in the chair next to Hoseok, “did you get me coffee this time?”

The two of them bicker good-naturedly, with Hoseok explaining a little kindness goes a long way and Taehyung muttering that kindness doesn’t happen without caffeine. Jungkook excuses himself, feeling very much out of place as he moves to your bedroom to pack his things.

“You’re leaving?” you’re standing in the middle of your bedroom, now dressed in a long t-shirt and your hair tied clean and away from your face. You look pretty.

“Yeah,” he says shortly, stuffing his jeans in his bag and making sure all traces of him are gone from your bedroom. “Need to sort things out,” he excuses, and while you may not buy it, he really does. He feels heartbroken, angry at the world. Maybe he could visit Yoongi today and get a demo in, put all this pent-up emotion to good use. “But Hoseok brought you breakfast, he’s a good friend, he’ll explain everything.”

“But I don’t know Hoseok,” you mumble, picking at the hem of your band shirt. You’re pouting, stubborn.

“But you don’t know me either,” Jungkook retorts, not unkindly, but not exactly gentle. “I wouldn’t want to overwhelm you.”

There’s a hard rip at his zipper, putting in a little too much force as he seals away all his things into a compact backpack. Heck, he even went as far as to take back the hoodie he lent you last month, making sure the fabric is crisp and folded so he can stow it away from your curious eyes. He shoves on his denim jacket from last night, still lingering with the scents of sand and saltwater. It makes him sombre, and the selfish part of him wishes to bottle up that scent and tuck it away forever.

“You’re wrong,” you blurt when he moves toward the door. His hand lingers over the knob, “I do know you.”

He narrows his dark eyes, taking in your honest expression, “At Jimin’s job, maybe? I did a couple interviews in the beginning of February. Maybe we passed each other while you had lunch with him.”

“No. You sang to me, talked to me, as much as you could up until this moment.”

He remembers the stories you fed to him last night under the stars, shameless and full of love as you explained to him of his other self. The life where he’s a renowned singer, a Golden Boy, one of the most revered in his industry. A life he could only dream of, yet somewhere out there he’s living it in another body making that dream come true.

Thoughts are running through his head, memories that aren’t his own. He could only imagine what you must’ve gone through, recovering in a hospital bed for two months, unable to move but actively aware of the pain and anguish. How confused you must’ve been, aching to figure out what the hell is going on, acutely aware of the voices constantly chattering about your well-being.

One of those voices being Jeon Jungkook, who was probably taking care of you night and day.

His head is starting to throb, and he feels like he’s five seconds away from spiraling.

“I’d… I’d feel more comfortable around you, Jungkook,” you confess, reaching for his hand, “but if you need to, you can go,” you bite your lip, folding in on yourself once more, “if it hurts too much to be around me right now.”

He gladly takes your hand, rubbing his thumb between your palm. The familiar sparks he feels when he holds it return, but tamps it down for the sake of your vulnerability. It’s not your fault you’re in this situation. “No… I’m just gonna go home for a bit, clear my schedule,” he gives you a little smile, and he inflates a bit when you give him one of your own. “I’ll come back for you after breakfast.”

“You promise?”

“Promise.”

You pull him into an unexpected hug, suddenly fearing he may never come back.

“I always wondered what the man looked like behind the voice,” and you’re suddenly melting, feeling a sense of familiarity as you let your heart run faster than your brain when you let him hold you in his arms. He smells just like him, too.

His embrace is tight, and his arms fit in all the little curves and spots that make you feel warm and safe. “And am I living up to your expectations?” it’s a half-joke, after all the both of you are going simply by feeling and there’s no way in hell would he even attempt to compare himself to well, himself.

You pull away to look at him, really look at him. Honest, clear eyes. Jungkook thinks he sees the world in your gaze. “Only if you eat a donut before you go,” you reply with a shy smile.

At your defiant mention of food he can’t help but grin like a maniac, letting you tug him back out to sit at the counter with him and have breakfast. Like he said before, he can’t wait to fall in love all over again.

#jungkook fic #jungkook x reader #bts fic #jungkook fluff #goldenclosetnet #im not crying you're crying

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yikesharringrove · 4 years

Text

Umm, I accidentally deleted the request for this while moving it to my inbox, so here it is. (Also this is like, four months old).

I’m gonna rec this fic which is super well written and adorable

Steve is ftm. (Personally, I’m not a big fan of mpreg unless it’s like, biologically plausible 🤷‍♀️)

Under the cut bc it’s long and there’s a little bit of smut.

Billy’s hands were shaking as he raced out of the house.

He had a bag slung over one shoulder, had already put two others in the Camaro.

His dad had gone in hard today. Three days after Billy graduated high school and he’s already calling him a deadbeat, a fuck up. Telling him to get a job like he hasn’t worked every summer and most weekends since he was fourteen.

He lit a cigarette as he slid into the driver’s seat.

He was gonna make one stop on the way outta town.

Steve had given Billy a spare key months ago, after he was tired of always having to go downstairs and answer the door.

He liked it when Billy just made his way up, started kissing whatever skin was already exposed and asking Steve if he’s wet.

Tonight, Steve thought, was no different.

Billy was kissing up his calf, mouthing along his knee, a few fingers creeping up the leg of his shorts.

Billy was the best sex he’s ever had. Not a lot of gay guys will go down on Steve, some won’t even fuck him. He had been real hesitant to tell Billy, start having regular sex with his best friend, because he didn’t think Billy would want anything to do with him when he knew what he was bringing to the table.

But Billy had told him not to be an idiot, ate him out, and pounded him into the mattress.

And Steve was in love.

So he let Billy fuck him whenever he pleased, because at least Billy was giving him the time of day, at least he was getting some.

He opened his eyes, smiling lazily down at Billy.

“‘Time is it?”

“Almost two.” Billy was curling two fingers into his waistband, slowly pulling down his shorts, like maybe Steve wouldn’t notice.

Steve lifted his hips, and Billy whipped off his shorts, diving right in for his pussy.

He ate him out with the same fervor he did everything. Making all these gross slurping sounds, sucking on Steve’s cock and shoving his tongue inside him.

He made Steve cum twice on his face, as was the norm, before wiping his mouth on the back of his hand, and getting right to business.

He fucked Steve like he was mad at him.

He often did. And Steve knew he wasn’t mad at him, moreso mad at the other him, the him that’s ruined Billy’s life since before he was even born.

Steve wasn’t as dumb as everyone thought. Knew that when Billy snuck into his bedroom at odd hours of the night and absolutely ravished him, something bad had happened with his dad.

So when Billy finally rolled off of him, and lit a cigarette, Steve knew better than to ask.

“I’m leaving.” Steve just hummed at him. Billy sometimes stuck around after sex.

But Billy didn’t move.

“Like, leaving Hawkins.” Steve just hummed again. Billy talked a lot about leaving Hawkins. Steve had always secretly dreamed of running away with him.

Billy just studied his face in the dark, stubbing out his cigarette and rolling over to hols Steve close to his chest.

Steve closed his eyes, let himself pretend.

Pretend that Billy loved him back.

He woke up to rustling, Billy getting dressed to leave as weak sunlight began to trickle through his curtains.

“Oh shit, didn’t mean to wake you.”

He smiled lazily at Billy.

“You comin’ back over tonight?” Billy looked stiff.

“Probably not. Sorry.”

“That’s okay. I’ll see you later, then.”

“Yeah. Later.” Billy was sitting on the end of his bed, had just finished tying on his boots.

And then he moved, quick as a flash to kiss Steve softly before he was thundering down the stairs.

Steve was just falling asleep as the Camaro roared away.

Billy had skipped town that night.

And Steve never forgave himself.

Steve was leaning over the counter, his head pressed into the cool top of it.

“I threw up all last week, and I just feel like shit.” He had been whining to Robin practically all morning at Family Video.

“Do you think you have the flu?”

“I don’t know, Rob. I mean, my stomach hurts a lot, but like, it feels like I’m just having awful cramps.”

“Are you on your period?”

“Nah. Don’t get it very often with the hormones anymore.”

“Normally I’d suggest pregnancy, but I know you’re in a bit of a dry spell.” He rolled slightly to look darkly at her. “Still no word of Billy?”

“No. The one person in Hawkins that isn’t too transphobic to fuck me, and he skips town.” Steve sighed. “I should’ve known, too. He was being super weird that night.”

“Whatever. When you and I skip town, we’ll have the time of our damn lives, and get you laid.” He laughed softly.

“I’m just gonna go to the doctor this weekend. Get a full physical.”

“Let me know the verdict at and I can come over with some medicine, if you need.”

“Thanks, Rob.”

Steve was lying back on the stiff exam table.

He had already given blood and urine samples, and was just waiting for the doctor to tell him what the fuck was wrong with him.

Sometimes his hormones had to be adjusted, and caused all sorts of weird shit to go haywire in his body.

Dr. Mauch was a kind woman, always been pleasant and accepting of Steve, even referred him to an endocrinologist for his hormones.

She didn’t smile when she came in, though. Just sat down at her stool.

“I’m going to go out a limb here and say that this is not news you’ll be happy about hearing.”

Steve felt his heart drop to his stomach.

“You’re pregnant.”

He blinked.

“No.”

“I’m sorry, Steve. But you most definitely are.”

“But, but I’m on blockers, and testosterone, and I haven’t had sex in months.”

“I’d say about six months.” His mouth was dry. Billy had left in late May. About six months ago. “And being on hormones is not an effective method of birth control. Some men still get pregnant after taking them.”

“I’m not, I don’t look pregnant.”

“Some people don’t really show their pregnancy. My sister was rail thin the entire time, had a perfectly healthy baby girl. It’s all about your body type.”

“So, so you’re telling me, that I’m six months fucking pregnant.”

“Yes.” He slumped back onto the exam table.

“What are, what are my options?”

“Well, unfortunately, not many. Abortions are only legal in Indiana up to 20 weeks, or five months, or unless the person pregnant is facing severely compromised physical health. There’s always adoption.”

“No one’s gonna want a baby from a trans guy.” She pursed her lips.

“I think that’s a harsh statement. Many people are desperate for babies.” Steve just stared at her.

“So, if I have to take it to term, should I like, go off my hormones.” His stomach gave a lurch at the idea.

“I would recommend it. There’s very little research one pregnancy in transgender individuals. We really don’t know how hormones can affect the baby.” Steve sighed. “I would say, get in with an OB/GYN. I can recommend a few I know and send them your medical history. Your name change and hormone therapy is part of all of it, so hopefully they will be kind.” Steve sighed.

“Thank you, Doc. I really appreciate it.”

“I’m sorry for the disappointing news.”

“Nah, it’s fine.” She gave him a copy of their appointment notes, a list of OB/GYNs for him to research, and a hug before she left.

He drove home slowly, feeling exhausted, like the weight of the fucking world was on his shoulders.

He got home to find Robin sitting on his front porch, her nose buried in a book, a pizza box sitting next to her.

She looked up at him, and he burst into tears.

“Look, Max, if he contacts you in any way, tell him to call Steve, okay? It’s important.” Robin was yammering to Max on the phone, trying to get a way to contact Billy.

Steve was laying on the couch, had his shirt rucked up over his stomach, pushing it out and sucking it in, trying to see any change in his body.

“Just give him Steve’s phone number and tell him he’s an asshole.” She hung up the phone, perching on the armrest at Steve’s feet.

“She know where he is?”

“No. She said he ran off and hasn’t contacted her at all. She didn’t even know he was leaving.” She slid onto the couch, let Steve put his feet on her lap. “You think he’d come back? If he knew?”

“I don’t know. I’m not really asking him to. I mean, I don’t think I’m in a place to take care of it, but I kinda just want him to know it exists. Like, I think he deserves that.”

“I get it.” Her voice was soft. She watched Steve stare at his tummy some more. “I’m sorry. I’m sure this is just, dysphoria out the wazoo.” Steve huffed a laugh.

“I don’t think it’s really hit me yet. I think ‘cause I’m not showing. I don’t look pregnant, so how can I be pregnant, you know?” He sighed tugging down his shirt. “Going to the doctor’s gonna be a damn nightmare, though. They’re too used to dealing with women. It’s gonna suck.”

Steve was right.

Even though his primary care doctor had sent his medical history, he still got deadnamed and misgendered at reception, and intake, and by the nurse, and the doctor when she finally arrived.

They gave him a pelvic exam, getting him in for a sonogram as well.

And as the doctor was moving the imagining wand around on his tummy, and he heard the heartbeat for the first time, something caved inside of him.

A baby. He was having a baby.

And part of him, a really fucking big part of him, was starting to love it.

His parents were home for four days.

And Steve had waited for the final day of their homesteading to tell them.

He’s glad he did.

Diner was as quiet as always, and Steve had nearly choked on the words.

“I’m pregnant.”

His father had gotten out his wallet, asked how much an abortion costs.

“I’m too far along for that. Nowhere will legally do it.”

His mother had just stared at him. His father asked how far along he was.

“Close to seven months. I didn’t even know until like, a week and a half ago.”

And his father had stood up, and the yelling began.

“I can’t believe you. You kick up this huge fuss, make us change your name, and the way we refer to you, go around telling everyone your a boy, and you get pregnant like the little slut you are.”

And he had told Steve to back his shit, told him he was not welcome in my house anymore.

And Steve didn’t have a lot of shit he cared about, the clothes he liked fit in one duffel bag.

His mother didn’t look at him as he left.

He had called Mrs. Henderson from a payphone.

Nobody else could give him a ride anymore, and he wasn’t expecting her to drop everything and drive him somewhere, but she had freaked out at the words kicked out and for getting pregnant, and told him to stay where he is.

She was there with a tight hug and a travel mug of honey lemon tea within twenty minutes.

Steve had asked for a ride to a youth shelter he had read about, but she shook her head, said you’re coming to live with me and Dusty and Steve had cried in her passenger seat, and again in her guest bedroom.

Steve groaned.

He had finally begun showing, just a little bit out a mound near his belly button.

But he felt like shit, had taken to spending most days in bed.

He bat away whoever was shaking him.

“Go away.”

“Steve, it’s Max.”

“I’m sleeping.”

“I found Billy, you asshole. I have his address.” Steve sat bolt up straight.

“You, where is he?”

“Boston. He went east, for some reason. But he sent me a letter, out of the blue, and I told him you had something important to say, but he said he doesn’t have a phone.” She handed him a slip of paper.

“Thanks, Max.” He gave her a weak smile, found her chewing her lip.

“Is he the father? The other father, I mean.” He had told the party about the pregnancy, figured rumors would begin spreading soon enough.

“Yeah. He’s the other father.”

“He wouldn’t have ditched you. If he’d known.”

“I know.”

“He’s not like that.”

“I know.” She stared him down. He kept his face open, honest.

“Are you gonna write to him?”

“Yeah. I just, I don’t really know what to say.”

“Just keep it simple. Tell him he’s got a kid. Let him choose what he wants.”

It took Steve almost a month to draft a letter.

He didn’t really know what to say.

He settled on the bare minimum.

I’m pregnant. And it is most definitely, without a doubt, yours. I’m not expecting anything from you. I don’t want money, or for you to move back to Hawkins. I just thought you deserve to know about your kid.

He read the letter about three times, one hand pressed delicately to his little bump.

I’ve decided to keep the baby. I’m going to raise them. You’re welcome to meet them, and be in their life if you choose, but if not, I’m not going to hold it against you.

He sealed the envelope, leaving it on his nightstand.

And then his contractions started.

He didn’t get around to sending it.

Claudia was the only person in the room with him when he gave birth.

She held his hand the whole time, coached him through his breathing.

And when his son was born, she pet his head, told Steve how beautiful he is.

Steve was slumped face down on the bed.

He had just gotten Oliver down, calmed him down enough for him to finally sleep.

He rolled over, scrubbing a hand down his face.

He had barely slept all week. But Oliver had smiled at him for the first time yesterday.

He turned to lay on his side, zeroing in on the envelope on his nightstand.

He sat up quickly.

Fuck. He needed to send that letter.

He didn’t bother thinking about it, just wrapped his sweater tighter around himself, and hurried to the mailbox. He put the little flag up, leaving the letter in the little inner clasp.

He looked back down at Oliver, running one finger over his fuzzy little head.

He didn’t hear from Billy for three weeks.

He knew the letter wouldn’t take more than a few days to get to him, and it would take just as long for Billy to get him back.

He had pushed Billy out of his mind, figured if he wanted to be part of Oliver’s life, he had given him enough of a chance to be.

He put on a thick sweatshirt, had taken to wearing baggy tops to hide his tits, too sore, too big to bind anymore. Oliver squealed at him when he leaned against the side of his crib, reaching out for him.

He strapped him into his stroller to take him on a walk, stopped dead in the doorway.

Billy fucking Hargrove was in the driveway, standing next to the Camaro like he had just gotten out of it.

His eyes were wide, trailing from Steve, to Oliver, and back again.

“Is that my kid?” Billy’s hair was shorter than when he had left.

“Oliver. His name is Oliver.” Billy stepped around the car.

“Can I, can I see him?” Steve brought the stroller down the driveway, taking Oliver out of the stroller.

Billy held him like he was made of gold.

“He’s beautiful.”

“I think he looks a lot like you.” Billy smiled at him.

“Thank you for telling me. I’m sorry I couldn’t get here, I was waiting for my semester to end.”

“It’s okay. I just, you know. Thought you deserved to know about him.” Billy stared at Oliver, his smile going soft as Oliver squealed, tugging on Billy’s hair.

“I want to be in his life. If that’s okay?”

“Of course it is. He’s your son too.” Billy brushed his thumb down Oliver’s nose.

“Thank you, Steve. And I’m, I’m sorry about how I left. I was going to-” he cut himself off, looking back at Oliver. “I was gonna ask you to come with me. Chickened out last minute.”

Steve’s heart was banging against his rips.

“I would’ve gone with you. Used to dream about running away with you.” Oliver started getting fussy, making disgruntled little huffs. Billy passed him back to Steve. “I was in love with you. You know that?”

“Yeah, I knew that. Was to chicken shit to do anything about it.” Billy was still looking at Oliver, the way he nestled into Steve’s neck. “He loves you a lot.”

“It’s been the two of us for awhile.”

“You’re a good dad. Always kinda figured you would be, though.” Billy took another breath. “You know, you could’ve told me sooner. I would’ve come back.”

“I don’t want you to, to change you life. Don’t quit school, or something.”

“Steve, I got a kid. I want to change my life for him. For, for you.”

“I can’t ask you to do that.”

“No never did. I’m choosing this. I’m choosing my family.” Steve hesitated.

“Would you like to come in? Have some breakfast? You could give Oliver his bottle, If you wanted.” Billy’s eyes lit up.

“I’d like that.”

#kinda open ended but this shit was getting LONG #yikes writes #steve harrington x billy hargrove #billy hargrove x steve harrington #steve harrington #billy hargrove #harringrove #harringrove fic #harringrove ficlet #harringrove drabble #mpreg #trans!steve harrington #trans!steve #trans steve #trans steve harrington

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tinyboxxtink · 3 years

Note

Hey so loved your black magic series! I read your post about using REE/Rafael. I’ll read anything you write but this idea to me is RPF and kind of squicks. ☹️ Maybe if you use another character he played? Nevada?! Someone sees “Barba” doing something super bad and they’re all “omg omg” and think it’s Barba? 🤷🏻‍♀️

I hear you, I do. HOWEVER, I made a "Version" of Raul Esparza in this story that is 5 years younger, and...I hate to say it, "more" famous?

IDK I wrote a 'prototype' chapter last night, so I'm gonna put this to you. I assume/hope you're an avid reader and I can gauge the public consensus, but also I want ALL my readers to be happy!!

So here, read this and then tell me if you still find the idea "Squicky".

That goes for anyone else! Maybe I should put my tag list in here....

The way I wrote him though anon, I truly feel in my heart that it's not RPF, because like I said RPF freaks me out as well.

Before you already go in skeptical, let me set up the plot I had planned. {As told to @madamsnape921 in an IM:

the thing was gonna start that someone sees Rafael proposing to the reader, and tells a tabloid that Raul Esparza is engaged to some rando. Because they think that it was him. And then Rafa, the reader and Chloe start to discuss on how either it's a multiverse thing, or a doppelganger thing because it turns out that Rafael and Raúl are very similar, like personality traits and the Broadway dream, except that Raul's childhood was basically the opposite of Rafael's so Chloe THINKS that Raul is Rafael from a "multiverse".

Right and then Raul goes to Rafael's office to confront him and then the reader and Chloe are there to take Rafael out to lunch and they're like holy shit!

And Rafael is super uncomfortable with the idea of the reader EVER being in a show with Raul because obviously they're like the same person and Raul probably has more in common with her

Oh and also Raul is five years younger, and thinner. So then Raul's like you shouldn't listen to him, I could really help you with your career.

Annnnd that's all I have so far.

Okay so read this really and tell me you honest opinion.

Screw it putting the tag list:

Tag List

@madamsnape921

@lolliepopsicle

@chasingeverybreakingwave

@milkshqke

@wanniiieeee

@word-scribbless

@gibbs274

@sassyada

@aprildecker-blog

@bookishfanfic

@stars-in-the-skies-world

@stars-trash-18

@omgsuperstarg

You were walking towards the exit of Central Park hand in hand with your now fiancee, when all of a sudden two giggling girls came running up to you.

“Oh my god!!!!! Raul we didn’t know you had a girlfriend!” One of them started squealing.

“Fiancee,” He corrected. “Wait I’m sorry, what? Did you just call me Raul?”

“Uh...yeah, duh,” One of the girls made a face. “Raul Esparza?”

“What?” You bursted out laughing. “I’m sorry, you think he’s Raul Esparza?”

“Um, we know he is,” The other one crossed her arms.

“Um, no he isn’t!” You wrapped your arm around Rafael protectively, as if the two girls were going to kidnap him or something.

“I can promise you ladies, I am not-- whoever you just said,” Rafael assured them.

“Why are you doing this? Are you trying not to embarrass your lady friend here?” One of the girls made a weird face at you.

“Wha? No--” Rafael tried to defend himself but the girls were already clearly ticked off.

“Wow, I have heard of actors trying to get away from fans but completely pretending to be another person, that’s pretty low Raul,” One of them glared at Rafael.

“Yeah, it wouldn’t have taken you much effort to just take a selfie with us,” The other one added with a scowl.

“I...um--” He looked to you for help, but you just shrugged. You had no idea how to handle such a weird situation.

“I guess we can take one--” He offered.

“Oh no, forget it now,” One girl scoffed.

“Yeah, jerk!” The other one stomped her foot and they both sauntered away angrily.

-----------

“...What the hell was that?” Rafael looked at you in utter confusion and disbelief, you just gave him a “wtf” smile.

“I have no idea baby--”

“Oh my god, are you guys ok?” Chloe suddenly came running up behind you. “What the hell did those teeny boppers want? To rob you with water guns or something?”

“No they-- they wanted a selfie?” Rafael was still confused, trying to figure out what just happened.

“A selfie? With you?” Chloe snorted.

“No-- With Raul Esparza,” You looked at her with a confused smile. It was pretty entertaining to think that your fiance looked like a Broadway star.

“I don’t get it, you said that I didn’t even look like him!” Rafael looked at you.

“I mean I said I didn’t see it, and that you were more handsome,”

“....Yeah well you might wanna rethink that answer babe,” Chloe’s eyes were wide as she handed you her phone. She had googled RAUL ESPARZA, and the images that popped up were-- Rafael’s face.

“Oh my God…” You whispered, showing Rafael the phone. He quickly pulled out his own and started searching for himself. You handed Chloe back her phone and did the same. Pages and pages of articles about Raul Esparza’s shows, and accelaides, and all with Rafael's face plastered all over them.

“He’s….me,” Rafael whispered in horror.

“He looks more like you than you do!” You teased, he looked at you with a very serious face. Clearly he was not ready to joke about this yet.

“Holy shit. This is some multiverse shit,” Chloe muttered as she went through her Google search.

“Excuse me?” You asked her.

“You know, the multiverse theory? There’s an infinite amount of universes in every decision anyone ever makes.”

“Meaning…?” Rafael asked.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Chloe raised an eyebrow. “Raul could be Rafael, if he hadn’t given up on his Broadway dream,”

“Oh my god,” Rafael started laughing. “Chloe, did you get loaded in the park or something?”

“Oh okay, so you have a better idea, big brain lawyer?” She crossed her arms.

“He might not, but I do,” You piped up, showing her your phone.

“Doppelgangers?” Chloe read with a face.

“Yes, it’s a fact that there are 5 people in the world with the EXACT same face,” You continued reading.

“And he just happens to live in New York, where Rafael lives? AND is on Broadway, the one thing Rafael gave up?”

“Look sure it’s a million to one shot that those events would line up, but what’s more plausible: Doppelganger or ‘Multiverse’?” You looked at Chloe, who looked at Rafael, so you turned to Rafael as well.

“...Wha--are you asking me?” He asked.

“I mean it is your face,” You shrugged. “What do you think, baby?”

“I’m leaning towards a doppelganger, sorry Chloe,” He shrugged as well.

“Yeah well, you’re probably right,” Chloe nodded as she read her own phone, still on Raul Esparza info. “Most likely because he’s five years YOUNGER than you,”

“WHAT?!” Rafael grabbed her phone; as he read it, his face fell. “Oh God, no…”

“Wha--What does it matter how old he is, Rafa?” You furrowed your brows.

“Or the fact that he’s clearly thinner and more attractive,” Chloe added with a smirk.

“CHLOE,” You scolded her. “What the ever loving fuck?”

“Well, I’m just saying-- Look at them side by side,” Chloe had a photo of Rafael from some mayor’s ball next to Raul Esparza at the Tonys, both in tuxedo’s. You wouldn’t admit to Rafael but Raul was definitely thinner, and...he looked a lot younger. It was probably Botox or something you were sure, but still….

“Okay but again WHY does it matter--?” You wanted to change the subject.

“Are you kidding me? Y/N-- This is what you want to do!” He gestured to Chloe’s phone.

“....I don’t want Raul--” You started.

“No, you want to be on Broadway though!! And, and what if someday, God forbid, you end up in a show with this guy? He clearly already has a leg up on me compatibility wise, and as Chloe so kindly pointed out, a leg up on me age and attractiveness wise, and--” Rafael started ranting and rambling, talking lightening fast, as he did when he got upset or excited.

“Whoa whoa whoa whoa, back up there counselor,” You put up a hand to his face. “Are you actually insinuating that if I worked with Raul Esparza, that I would magically fall in love with him?”

“Don’t say it like that,” Rafael was triggered by the mention of magic and love.

“Okay but I’m not even saying ‘magic’ magic, I’m just saying-- What do you think because he’s an actor, and younger than you I’m just going to think I’m better off with him? Just because he has your face?” You gave him a small “oh honey” smile as you placed your hands on either of his face.

“No, but if you have to play his love interest, and you spend every day with him, it might blur the lines--” He started grumbling.

“Rafael, baby--” You shook his head in your hands. “I am still in SCHOOL. I am nowhere NEAR being in a Broadway show as a freaking techie, let alone a love interest starring opposite Raul Esparza,”

“Yeah, I mean this guy is huge-- 3 Tonys, 2 Emmys, an Oscar--” Chloe rattled off, but stopped when she realized you were glaring at her. “What? I’m helping!”

“...See? He’s far too famous for me,” You pressed your forehead to Rafael’s.

“Right, and I’m just the lowly ADA,” He muttered.

“Lowly my ass, Rafa,” You hit him playfully. “You are the most respected ADA in all of New York,”

“I’m the only ADA of New York,” He made a face.

“Not true! Just the city,” You beamed, proud of yourself you did some research once you had gotten together.

“My point is Rafael,” You now put your hands on his collar and pulled yourself into him. “You are all the acclaim I need,” You kissed him softly. “You’re my everything, I mean for fuck’s sake you just held a one man flash mob to propose to me! Let’s Raul Esparza do THAT,” You laughed, hoping to make him feel better. As his scowl melted into a smile, you knew you had succeeded.

“That was pretty romantic wasn’t it?” He beamed, proud of himself.

“It was EPIC,” Chloe chimed in, for good this time.

“Your voice is beautiful by the way,” You had forgotten in the midst of all of the romantic hubbub to compliment him. “I’m really sorry you had to give up Broadway,”

“Yeah, well-- apparently some part of me didn’t,” He gestured to his phone.

“Well he doesn’t have me,” You pointed out.

“He doesn’t know what he’s missing.” Rafael grinned as he pulled you into a deep kiss.

“Now can we please just forget about--” You hesitated, deciding not to mention his name again. “Anything else, and just focus on our engagement night?”

“Well, I suppose--” He nodded as he put an arm around you, and the three of you continued to walk through the park.

-------

Across town in a swanky New York Penthouse, an alert went off on Raul Esparza’s phone. He had it set to notify him any time his name appeared in a headline on the internet. He glanced over and picked it up, reading the notification. As he read it, his eyes widened and his face grew red. He stood up and yelled to no one in particular,

“Who the FUCK is trying to impersonate me?!”

#rafael barba #rafael barba imagine #rafael barba x reader #rafael barba fanficton #raul esparza fanfiction #but not really #anon ask #black magic #doppelganger #law and order svu fanfiction

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simsadventures · 4 years

Text

Not Me: Chapter 1: Sweet, Sweet Life

Summary: You always wanted the perfect life- great husband, fulfilling job, and overall happiness. What if you can’t have even a bit of your fairytale?

Warnings: angst, swearing, implied smut, memories (in italics)

Word Count: 2074

A/N: The first ever chapter of Not Me is finally here! Im so excited about this story, and I seriously can’t wait for you all to read it. Let me know what you think so far, and what do you expect from this little story? The ride has only just started, and it will get spicier as we go along, I promise xx

Series Masterlist __ Masterlist

The sun was shining through the blinds, and you groaned loudly. Another day in your personal nightmare. You tried to snuggle into the pillows harder, willing your sleep to come again and take you for at least another few hours, so that you wouldn’t have to face the world. And by the world, you meant your husband, James.

Just the thought of him made a shiver run down your spine, and not the good kind. You didn’t even know how you got to that position. There used to be times when James was all you could think of.

You were at high school together, buddies, thanks to your fathers owning a publishing company together. You were a freshman, and he was a senior, but that didn’t stop you from spending a lot of time together. You used to piss off your fathers too often for your own good, whenever there was a banquet or some other fancy shit, you and Bucky would always find a way to make it at least a bit enjoyable for the two of you.

You had each other to hold on to, and that was enough. You both went to a different university, Bucky attending Yale, while you went to Brown. It was during this time that you grew apart, having different goals in life, and life choices as well. But your crush was still strong as ever at that time.

James had this ability to draw people to them. You could even pinpoint the exact thing that made him so charming because there were so many of them. His eyes, his deep, gruff voice, his physique, which would get any girl to her knees, or his charm. But you knew he wasn’t interested in you that way.

While you saw Bucky partying every second possible, you were more the studying type. Not that you didn’t have your fair share of wild parties, making you wake up in Canada instead of your home. But you were a passionate reader and student, and so when the crucial times came, you knew how to use your brain. And form what you heard, with Bucky’s party habits, he had to pay somebody to take all his exams. That was the only plausible option in your mind.

You only saw each other during summers, when you both worked for Barnes&Clark, your fathers’ company. And while Bucky was much more interested in all the sexy secretaries, you were impressed by all it entailed to be a businesswoman. You sat with Mr Barnes and your father in their meetings, they even seemed to listen to you while you spoke about your ideas of new ways of getting books to young people.

It was close to your graduation that your life turned completely, and, at the time, you thought for the better.

There was a knock on your door, and you frowned. It was Thursday evening, and you weren’t expecting anyone. What was even weirder that the person was already in the building, without ringing the bell from the front door. You cautiously went and looked through the peep-hole, only to be utterly surprised.

You opened the door, a confused frown on your face.

“Bucky. To what do I owe the pleasure?” You asked him, stepping aside, to let him inside.

He didn’t say anything, just stepped in and waited for you to take him further inside your apartment. When you led you to the sofa and sat down, you raised your eyebrows, indicating that he really should start explaining what it was he wanted.

“Look, Y/N. We’ve known each other for a long time, and I’ve been thinking, recently, and I reached a decision in which, I hope, you’ll support me.”

You still didn’t say anything, not sure where he was going with it. You haven’t heard from him in months, and so it was peculiar as to why he suddenly came knocking on your door.

Without any other word, he got on his knee and pulled out a white velvet box from his pocket. Your eyes were suddenly the size of a cartoon character, and you were pretty sure they now occupied most of your face.

“W-what? Bucky are you drunk? Or are you fatally ill? What the hell are you talking about?” You asked him, on the verge of a mental breakdown. This couldn’t be happening. Sure, you liked him and sure, you did try to write Y/N Barnes a few too many times before. But you were both young, 24 and 27 years old, and you sure as hell weren’t ready for marriage.

“I prioritise doll. I know it sounds crazy, but think about it. I know you have been single for far too long, and you’re never comfortable around any other guy than me. I’ve had my fair share of fun, and now I’m ready to settle down. And with whom better than you? We used to be best friends, and I think you never really grow from that kind of bond. Just think about it, will you?”

You were looking in those icy blue eyes, and for a weird reason, you saw the desperation in them and a hint of anger. You couldn’t be too sure, because you haven’t seen him for so long, but he had one thing right. You never really grow out of that bond. You thought he did, but obviously, he was thinking about you as much as you were thinking about him.

“I’ll need some time, and I think we should spend some time together if you want to marry me, don’t you think?”

A flash of something you weren’t able to recognise ran through his face, but as soon as it appeared, it was gone, and you weren’t really sure what it was.

“Sure, can I stay tonight and we can watch a movie, or something, huh?” He asked, without a hint of a smile, and you enthusiastically nodded. After all, this was something you dreamed of quite often, to be completely honest.

It went like this for a while, you and Bucky spending evenings together, and after one particularly fun evening, full of gin and tonics and tangled sheets, you finally gave him your answer.

“I will marry you Bucky, if it’s still something you want, I think we could be really good together,” you whispered against his naked chest, laying almost on top of him in your bed. He hummed, patted your shoulder and got up from the bed.

You looked at him confused, trying to determine if you said something wrong, but he only pulled the velvet box out of the pants that were laying abandoned on the floor and slipped the massive diamond ring on your finger.

“Good. Now sleep so we can plan the damn thing,” he said in a hushed voice, got dressed, and left you laying on the bed, naked and exhausted from the amazing sex you just had, confused as hell.

And that’s how your marriage pretty much started. Despite Bucky leaving that day, you were pretty excited about the whole ordeal, and so was your and Bucky’s family. The only unexcited party seemed to be Bucky, but you thought it was just his face, nothing serious.

But after a year of marriage, you realised that it probably wasn’t just his face. When he was around his Uni friends or his colleagues, his demeanour changed drastically.

He was joyful and funny, and always the life of the party. But when you two were alone, he was brooding and looked pissed 99% of the time.

You thought you’d have everything you ever wished for. Happy family, amazing husband, and a dream job. But things aren’t always the way we want them.

Your amazing husband rarely ever spoke to you, and when he did, it was to point out a flaw on you.

You shouldn’t talk so loudly. Your language isn’t lady-like. I don’t like it when you wear sweatpants, I think you should look nice even at home. This steak isn’t medium-rare. This make-up is too much. Stand and be pretty. Blah blah blah.

You tried to do all he said, trying to be the best wife for him, because you still had the idea of Bucky loving you, and wanting to spend his life with you. But every sentence like this created a gash in your heart, and by the first anniversary, you thought your heart was just a shredded piece of muscle, unable to function any more.

What broke you down to your knees, was, however, a different kind of message, delivered to you by Bucky and your father.

“James will lead the company, he has most of the rights to Barnes&Clark, and we think it would be great if you were a stay-at-home wife like you were supposed to be from the very beginning. Look, Y/N, you are a woman, and those shouldn’t be heads of the company. You understand that, don’t you?”

You were in total and complete shock. He trained you your whole life, to be the CEO, or at least the head of the publishing, while somebody else would take care of the numbers. But now he was telling you that your dream was vanishing right in front of your eyes.

“But, but, dad, I thought you-“

“How about you stop thinking and just be a pretty thing, sweetie?” Your father asked you mockingly, and to your utter surprise, Bucky laughed as well, patting your father’s shoulder.

You wanted to run away in tears, because every time you tried to speak up, either your father or Bucky would shush you. By the time the meeting ended, your eyes were filled with tears, but you didn’t want either of the men seeing this weak side of yours.

When you left the company’s building with Bucky by your side, you were shaking with both sadness and anger.

“Are you seriously with him on that, Bucky?” You asked, desperation evident in your voice. But the look Bucky gave you made you regret that you even asked him anything.

“Of course, I agree with him. You have to take care of our household, and not be busy with business. Oh, and, by the way, I would prefer it if you called me James, from now on.”

It felt like he pushed a dagger deep inside your guts. He let everyone call him Bucky, he would always say that it just felt better when the people around him called him Bucky. And now he wanted you, his wife, to call him James?

You sighed again and sat up in your bed. Ever since you moved in, you had separate bedrooms, James telling you he needed his rest to run the company. And even if you wanted to protest in the very beginning, you gave up. Like on many things in your life at the moment.

You used to have dreams, you used to be ambitious, but this life took everything from you. You rarely ever had sex with James- he would always tell you how tired he was and that you should be tired as well. And if you weren’t, it meant you weren’t doing enough through the day.

You learned how to cook, how to bake, how to sew, how to have the perfect garden, but it still wasn’t impressive enough for James to spare a kind word for you.

And neither did you father. He would always only remind you to be a good wife to James and to leave the rest to the men, and by your first anniversary, you believed all of those things, your self-respect pretty much non-existing.

You got up from the bed and headed towards the closet, to put on something representative to not give James any reason to pester you. You took a quick shower and put on some make-up, knowing full well that James was against the natural beauty look. You put on high-waisted wide pants and a blouse, trying no to look too shabby even if you were only going down to the kitchen to make James a breakfast.

When you came into the kitchen, he was already there, sitting by the table, reading news on his phone. He didn’t even spare you a look, and you sighed, walking towards the kitchen isle. It would be just another day in your hell, and you couldn’t do anything about it. Or, at least, you thought you couldn’t.

/Next Chapter >

Not Me:

@jennmurowski13 @lovely-geek @vogueworthy-barnes @veronawrites @loser-alert @trumpettay @thesoldierrogers @girlbehindthecameraposts @little-smurf @jesseswartzwelder @fuckwhateverfuck @learisa @karla-silva @blowing-mikey @afterlaughter27 @93generation @ungratefultroll @maybeisthemoon @greenprisca @geeksareunique @champagnesugamama @hailqueenconquer @grincheveryday @mc225g @thatweirdwalangpake @neerness

Bucky Taglist

@this-kitten-is-smitten @paradisiacalsparks @crazybutconfidentaf @owlyannah @lassini @s-trawberryv-eins @reniescarlett

Marvel Taglist

@voltage-my2dlove @kneel-begyourpardon @lumar014 @ptrs-prkrs

Forever Tag:

@eileenalone @sasbb23 @p8tn0lish @coffeebooksandfandom @waiting4inspiration @caswinchester2000 @mogaruke @justthatfangirloverthere @mushyjellybeans @livsheph @sebbbystaaan @notyourtypicalrose

If your name is crossed out, tumblr won’t let me tag you for some reason, I’m sorry.

If you’d like to be tagged comment/message/send an ask. If you like the story, please reblog :) any comments are appreciated, even the critical ones. Always a space to get better, so let me know what you guys think.

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jaxsteamblog · 3 years

Text

Lady of the Moon

Click here to read the entire fic on AO3

Thuy climbed up onto a towering root, pushing Mister Whiskers back down when she tried to claw her fat body up as well.

“Okay, so the most important thing to remember is that the swamp has a mind of its own and it’s super not great to get separated.” She announced.

Sokka raised his hand and she looked at him.

“Why are we going out at night then?” He asked.

“We did just get in, Thuy. Is this a good idea?” Zuko added.

“The swamp is to be respected! You don’t keep the grove waiting!” Thuy yelled.

Mister Whiskers turned her head on her thick neck and snapped at them, driving the point home.

“Besides, if we stick together then we don’t have to worry about anyone getting eaten.” Thuy finished and jumped down.

“That doesn’t sound….great.” Suki said.

“It’ll be fine.” Thuy replied.

They were, of course, separated almost immediately.

A mile away from the huts, all of their flashlights went out at once. Someone, probably Sokka since it was him that started to swear, tripped over a root. The splashing seemed to attract attention, as Mister Whiskers let out a low, long rumble in warning.

Thuy told them to run back to the huts, but the heavy canopy over them let little of the full moon’s light down to their level.

Toph had unhelpfully decided to stay, dropping a bombshell on them that she had, in fact, been to the swamp before. So she wasn’t around to help them navigate with the terrible light.

After running for nearly twenty minutes, Katara started to frantically shake her flashlight. Turning around, she illuminated the empty, twisting spaces between the trees.

She was completely alone.

“Thuy? Zuko?” She called out.

There was no answer.

Sokka

Muttering and swearing, Sokka kept his flashlight out in front of him as he sloshed through knee-high swamp water.

“I just want one stupid trip with my sister to not involve spirits.” He muttered. “Just one!”

After he had calmed himself, he quickly reoriented his path and knew with some surety that he was heading back toward the village.

“Is it because Katara pretended to be a spirit? Is that it? Are we being punished for that?” Sokka asked aloud, not expecting or wanting a response.

“Or is it La? Because I would think that would make this easier.” He continued, pushing through the unpleasant water and trying not to think about what was clinging to his legs.

“I try to keep her safe but every single time, something weird has to happen.” He grunted, switching the flashlight to his other hand.

“It was never your job to keep her safe, Sokka.” A woman’s voice said from behind him.

Sokka whirled around, nearly dropping the flashlight.

“Mom?” He gasped.

“Hello wolf pup.” Kya said.

Tears came to Sokka’s eyes and his hand went weak. As the beam of light dipped, leaving his mother’s face, he gripped it tightly with both hands.

“You died.” He stated, mostly for himself.

Kya smiled sadly.

“I did.” She confirmed.

“We tried to get you out.”

“I know, wolf pup. Katara nearly did.”

“What?” His voice was barely there, and Sokka didn’t know if he had even managed to speak the question aloud. “She said you were already dead.”

“No. We were caught by some guards and Hama used her bloodbending on them. But she was killing them, and your sister wouldn’t let her. When they fought, Hama lost her control.” Kya said.

“They killed you. In front of her.” Sokka continued for her.

“I tried to protect her, but I couldn’t keep her safe.” Kya said.

“Why didn’t she tell me?” Sokka asked.

“Your sister holds her pain in secret. She knows what you have sacrificed.”

“I’m her brother! I’m supposed to!”

“No.” Kya said firmly. “You are supposed to do no such thing. The war demanded it of you unfairly.”

“I’m all she had!” Sokka cried. Tears poured down his face and the light trembled.

“And you did so good, wolf pup. You stayed so strong.” Kya said.

Sokka took one hand and rubbed his eyes against his arm. He felt arms around him and he started to sob.

“How are you here?” He asked haltingly, still keeping his eyes covered.

“You know our spirits do not fade. When my namesake is born, I will return. But for now, in this place, I can be with you.” Kya said.

“I miss you.” Sokka murmured.

“I know. But my love is always with you.” Kya said and pressed her forehead against Sokka’s bent head.

“I love you, wolf pup.” She whispered.

“I love you, mom.” Sokka said. He stood still, even after he felt the arms leave him. Even after he knew he was alone again.

Zuko

Finding solid ground on a peat bog, Zuko slammed the butt of his flashlight against his palm. The light flickered but continued to give out. Frustrated, he pocketed the heavy piece of useless metal and brought out a bright flame in his hand.

As he continued to walk, the shadowy edges smoothed and the ground under him became hard. It wasn’t what he expected to find in wetlands and Zuko used both hands to make the fire bigger.

He wasn’t in the wetlands anymore.

He was in the woods of Hira’a.

The temperature hadn’t changed, and the humidity was still oppressive, but the trees were the tall, isolated spires of his mother’s home. The woods were quiet, and Zuko couldn’t even hear the noises of the swamp.

Moving slowly, Zuko continued walking, hoping to find his way out of this waking dream. There was no one around, but he still kept himself from calling out. He didn’t know who, or what, would answer.

Eventually, he broke through the treeline and found a wide lake. Holding one hand out, Zuko looked around the open bank.

A figure stood at the edge of the lake, her long red robes damp from the lapping water.

As Zuko got closer, he recognized the robes.

He recognized the long, black hair.

He recognized the crown.

“Mom?” Zuko asked, quietly, cautiously. “Mom, is that you?”

Reaching out, Zuko went to touch her shoulder.

The woman turned, her face gone. Zuko jumped back, a scream frozen in his throat and closing off his lungs. His fire went out.

“Zuko.” Ursa’s voice came out of the darkness.

Shaking hard, but forcing himself to breathe, Zuko recalled his fire and held his hand up.

His mother had a face now.

And it was one that he knew.

Suki

Growing impatient, Suki started to pace and glance up at Thuy as she walked. Chewing on her thumb, she tried to think of a solution.

Thuy was meditating, trying to tap into the root system to find the others, but it was taking a lot longer than she had said.

Suki had a good sense of direction, she mulled over the possibility of heading out on her own and getting Toph. Or anyone else. Or everyone.

Someone would be able to use the roots to find everyone else.

“Didn’t you learn patience?” A woman asked.

Suki froze and looked up. Thuy hadn’t moved and that certainly hadn’t been her voice. It was deeper and had a familiar accent to it.

When she turned back, she screamed.

Avatar Kyoshi looked down at her.

“And how is my captain doing?” She asked Suki.

Falling to her knees, Suki knelt in supplication.

“Avatar Kyoshi, I’m honored.” She said.

“Oh please.” Kyoshi scoffed. “I’m not the Avatar any longer.”

As Suki looked up, confused, Kyoshi tapped her closed fan against her chin. “Or I guess I always am? Was?”

Shaking her head, Kyoshi looked unconcerned. “Doesn’t matter.”

“Are you...” Suki stammered, straightening while still kneeling. “Is Thuy channeling you?”

“In a way.” Kyoshi replied, looking over at Thuy. “She has connected to the swamp and I am connected to her, so here I am.”

“On your own?” Suki questioned.

Kyoshi looked back at her.

“Again, in a way.” She said.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.” Kyoshi sat down, crossing her legs and resting her fans in her lap.

“Is it okay if I leave the warriors?” Suki asked.

“Why wouldn’t it be?” Kyoshi asked in reply.

“Well, everyone assumes I’m going to keep leading.”

“Do you want to?”

“I mean, I would do it. But Sokka keeps getting called away. And I like going with him.”

“I have seen how someone will find fulfillment in following their beloved.” Kyoshi said. “There is nothing wrong with that.”

“But I don’t want to stop being a warrior.” Suki said.

“You could never stop being a Kyoshi Warrior.” Kyoshi said. “That is a calling you carry for life. Would your man leave you if you had to return to it?”

“Never!” Suki said quickly and then lowered her face in embarrassment. “Sokka has worn the robes, he knows what it means to me.”

“Then let them find a new captain. A Kyoshi Warrior is not bound to the island. I traveled everywhere, and so should you.” Kyoshi said.

“Thank you.”

“Of course, little sister.” Kyoshi stood up again, looking back up at Thuy. “I’ll give her a little push. Hopefully that can help her find your friends.”

As Suki got to her feet, Kyoshi disappeared. Turning to Thuy, she stepped back when the Avatar’s eyes opened and started to glow.

Katara

Seeing something shimmer between the trees, Katara barreled over tree roots. Hoping against plausibility, she thought it was a rare electric light shining at the edge of the huts. In her rush, her hands slipped over a mossy root and she fell forward into another standing pond. This water, unlike the rest she had trudged through, was cold, and she came up gasping.

Wading quickly back to the tree, Katara climbed into the roots and looked around.

The warm swamp air had condensed over the cool water and moonlight was a glittering column caught in the fog. Tilting her head up, Katara saw an empty space in the canopy and the full moon was visible in the night sky.

“Well that’s nice.” Katara huffed and continued climbing up the roots.

When she was high enough over the water, she used her bending to dry herself, dumping the swamp water back into the pond. Her flashlight was beyond repair but Katara kept the hunk of metal in case she met one of Mister Whiskers’ unpleasant cousins.

“It’s been awhile.” A woman said.

Looking up, Katara yelped and fell backward, tangling her limbs in the roots.

Yue floated over her, tilting her head.

“I visit.” Katara retorted.

“You visit Tui.” Yue corrected.

“Well how am I supposed to call you up?” Katara snapped as she struggled upright.

Yue floated back, her hair and robes waving as if underwater.

“You know how.” She replied.

Katara sighed and tapped the flashlight against her knee.

“So did you drag me out here for a chat?” She asked.

“The swamp does what it wants. I just saw a chance.” Yue said and shrugged. The unearthly princess with her divine robes shrugged.

“Okay…” Katara said. “How’s it going?”

Yue giggled and Katara smiled in spite of herself.

“I wanted to see if I could help you be happier. Or more at peace.” Yue said.

“I’m plenty happy.” Katara said sharply.

“Except for all this fate and destiny talk.” Yue said. “Which I might understand a little bit about.”

Feeling guilty, Katara looked away.

“It’s hardly fair to say you were a debt held in trust.” She said, mostly to herself.

“I think I was less fated and more living on borrowed time.” Yue said.

“I’m sorry I didn’t stop Zhao.” Katara said, looking back at her.

Yue sighed and twisted a bit in the watery air.

“It wasn’t your fault. You did what you could, but you were still learning and he was a Master Firebender.” She said.

“And now I’m engaged to the Fire Lord.” Katara said, feeling sick.

To her surprise, Yue smiled.

“Isn’t that a good thing?” She asked.

“What?”

“I gave back Tui’s energy because it was what I was supposed to do, even if it wasn’t fated. We’re Water Tribe, we have to protect our spirits.” Yue said. “And you protected our people. Marrying the Fire Lord only makes that goal easier.”

“How politic of you.” Katara said wryly.

“I was a princess.” Yue quipped.

“And now you’re the lady of the moon.”

“And you can be the lady of fire and water.”

Katara gaped at Yue, who laughed.

“Marry Zuko,” Yue said. “And become Fire Lady. If for nothing else than because you can.”

“I had the Avatar tell me to date him, now I’ve got a spirit telling me to marry him.” Katara said.

“It’s not like you’re willing to listen to anyone less.”

Katara snorted.

“Can you help me out of here?” She asked, standing up.

“I will send the lights to guide you.” Yue said. “If you promise to visit more.”

“I promise.” Katara said softly.

Floating down, Yue put her hands to the sides of Katara’s face and kissed her.

“Goodbye, my other half.” She murmured.

“Goodbye, princess.” Katara said.

“Give Sokka my love.”

“I will.”

In a blink, Yue was gone. Sighing, Katara turned and looked for any light. Seeing nothing, she shook her flashlight in frustration.

A bone white beam burst out, cutting through the darkness.

“Oh, okay.” Katara said, and followed the light.

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 54

#zutara #fanfiction #jax writes #zutara month #modern au #the fic that prompts built

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purble-turble · 3 years

Note

I don't know if you take requests, but I just read those two fica you reblogged and now I'm curious what dark Spicynoodleshipping would look like to you.

Yeah no worries, I love getting asks like this! Tho I don’t have a lot of specific scenarios that would warrant a drawing or a comic, but I do love writing out ideas kinda free form and letting them develop that way so I’ll answer that way (and maybe I’ll draw something later from it if I come up with something I like enough)

So.. Dark Spicynoodles...

First of all, I would be remiss not to mention the Demon Custom story that @starrosefics is currently writing about Red Son deciding he loves MK and just straight up kidnapping him. I heckin love this idea and I am dying for more of it~ I won’t speculate on the scenario playing out at all, though, because I’m not the one writing it and that would seem rude.. I’ll just say that Red Son doing common demon things like abducting the object of his desire and thinking yes this is totally normal, we’re dating now get used to it is killing me I love it so so much :U

Second, the obvious one: Red Son pretending to join MK and later betraying him in order to get close and steal the staff.. this one I’ve seen a number of other people write or theorize about. It’s definitely the most plausible scenario for an angsty relationship between the two and depending on how one would choose to write an ending, Red could portrayed as sympathetic due to the pressures from his parents or as villainous for going along with it despite having developed feelings for MK. Either way, it’d be fun to break MK’s heart (and then have Red Son patch it back together if you’re so inclined to do so) This one’s got a lot of iterations in fandom so I won’t go too in depth on any specific scenario involving it because I might accidentally take someone’s idea that I’ve seen because I forget when and where I’ve seen stuff all the time

Third, another fun thing that could be played with: MK’s clones. We’ve been shown that they get a bit out of control when left alone for too long.. one might even say a bit evil. There’s some great potential there. Here’s something- one of MK’s clones (for whatever reason) goes full blown villain, even more so than Porty MK, and runs off to join the DBK fam. Maybe in this scenario, Red Son already has a budding interest in the Monkie Kid, so when he shows up on their doorstep and asks to help his family conquer the world, Red Son is thrilled! Who knows, maybe he doesn’t bother telling the DBK fam that he’s just a clone at first? That information comes out later, after Red Son has already fallen head over heels for this new evil MK who’s staying in his house and complimenting his tech and helping his family prepare to take over the city~ The best part is, this evil MK likes him back! It’s a dream come true for Red Son, he gets to be with the cute boy he’s had his eye on AND he doesn’t have to betray his family to do so.

Oh here’s something fun.. real MK getting the brunt of the blame when evil clone MK and Red Son start to go around committing crimes together. As MK goes around delivering noodles, trying to have a normal day, he suddenly finds people are afraid of him? He finds out that he’s been spotted palling around with Red Son and terrorizing the city, and he’s pretty sure he would remember doing that, so something weird is going on... Eventually he manages to catch up to the pair and MK is shocked when he sees himself helping Red Son burn down the city.. he’s more shocked when the other him leans over and kisses Red Son amidst the inferno. The mOST shocking thing is that he feels a little twinge of.. jealousy? That’s weird. He should probably stop them from burning down that building and stealing all those valuable artifacts and not focus on these weird feelings he’s having... anyway, cue a fight scene where everyone is very confused and surprised that there are two MKs.

There’s lots of ways this story could end.. I think a fun way to conclude it is maybe evil clone MK gets dramatically poofed back into nothing by real MK. And Red Son, furious and heartbroken, unleashes his fury on MK and is about to incinerate HIM into nothing... but he can’t, because for a moment they were on the same side so he actually allowed himself to admit it: he fell in love with that same scared face looking up at him. So he lets MK go and flees. Who knows to where? Probably not home, not right away. He needs some time to himself to just think and be sad. MK himself is pretty shaken up by the whole thing too, but he’s more likely to chalk the whole thing up to a weird clone going haywire again and try to forget the way Red Son was looking at him just now...

I think that’s all I’ve got in me for the moment. There’s lots of other great situations in canon that could allow for MK and Red to have a dysfunctional, dark relationship.. to briefly list a few.. the use of shapeshifting powers and hiding their identity from each other while dating (they both have shapeshifting powers in the original text so this could be interesting), Red Son scheming with other demons like Spider Queen to capture MK so Red Son can rescue him and trick him into a relationship that way, just everything about the calabash god there’s so much angst potential in that artifact if either one of them got stuck in that thing and Jin and Yin knew about their crush and managed to trick them into thinking they could be with the other in that world.. it’d be way harder for them to leave willingly for sure.

Anyway, I love spicynoodles and this was super fun to write out!! Thanks for the ask :D

#lego Monkie kid #monkie kid #spicynoodleshipping #red son #mk #blog #ask #i love clone MK angst tbh #Anything with that is gonna get me #and throw in some spicynoodles and I’m all over it lol #dark spicynoodles #evil clone mk #mk clones

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brittledame · 4 years

Text

Pairing: Shirabu Kenjirou/Reader

Warnings: Explicit, hate-sex, swearing, name calling, light bondage, edging, overstimulation, semi-public sex

Word Count: 6.6K

Summary: Contrary to what you both believed, the tryst in the study room only served to intensify the tense air between you two. Not wanting to acknowledge how he’s been on your mind since, you shut him out completely. Unknowing to you, Shirabu is plagued with the same thoughts. Tension boils over once again as you find yourself left alone with him in the gym.

Series: Part 2 of 3 (Part 1 & Part 3)

To say that the last few weeks since handing in the assignment have been tense was an understatement. Ever since the incident in the study room, your head has been in utter disarray.

There were many things on the burning pile of your mind that added to your mounting vexation. The first one being that you gave into him, and no matter how pleasurable that was, it was a major blow to your pride. Since that library session, Shirabu acted as if nothing out of the ordinary happened. Hell, if you weren’t for the bruises painted on your hips, you might’ve convinced yourself it was a very vivid sex dream about your rival.

Unlike Shirabu’s heated anger, yours was more of the frosty kind. Cold shoulders punctuated with icy looks. The two of you were opposites in every sense of the term and yet he haunted you like an embarrassing childhood memory that refuses to let you sleep.

You let your hand slip out from where it was supporting your cheek and let your head ‘thunk’ against the table. Concerned, Natsuki pauses from her bento and gives you an assessing look.

“Alright, you’ve been acting weird for a while now. Are you alright?” Natsuki narrow her eyes at you, a silent warning that you wouldn't get away with lying.

Asides from her expression, you could hear concern ring loud and clear in her voice. Natsuki was a dear friend but she was also as stubborn as a bull if she wanted something, just like you. Now that you think of it, maybe that was why you two got along so well.

Knowing that you weren’t going to be able to evade the question, you give her a plausible excuse.

“University entrance exams are getting closer and I feel like I’m hitting a wall when I try to study.”

It was partially true. Albeit the reason you were hitting a wall was mostly because you can’t go more than an hour sitting there without your thoughts drifting to Shirabu’s hands on your hips, thrusting inside of you with vitriolic comments on the tip of his tongue. But Natsuki didn’t need to know all of that.

Accepting the lame excuse, Natsuki nods her head in empathy.

“I feel you there,” she frowns, “with my council duties on top of everything, I feel like I’m doing work but getting nowhere with it. They have me running around every afternoon trying to get forms signed. By the time I’m done I don’t want to study.”

You quietly hum at her tribulations. Annoyed at your uncharacteristic brooding demeanour recently, Natsuki sharply prods your cheek with her chopstick. You bat her hand away and turn to weakly glare up at her.

In your periphery, a flash of copper-toned hair catches your attention. Peering at the boy that’s been distracting you from the corner of your eyes, you could see him sitting like a statue among the lively chatter of his table. For some reason, the mere sight of his blank face and stupidly straight fringe elicited anger inside of you.

If it wasn’t clear before, that reaction to his existence was enough to rule out the possibility of you falling for him. This fills you with relief. You had suspected the possibility when you caught yourself thinking about him on a daily basis, but the thought terrified you.

“Hey, are you even listening to me?” Natsuki pouts at you, hand poised to jab you in the cheek with her chopstick again.

“Yes.”

“Is that a yes to delivering the form or for listening?”

“Both,” you absent-mindedly answer, eyeing off your unfinished bento, knowing you weren't in the mood to finish it.

“Thanks for doing this favour for me.” Natsuki sounded genuinely glad as she riffles through her binder she refuses to leave in her desk.

With a small ‘aha’, she pulls out a sheath of paper and holds it out to you. Sitting up from your slouched position, you gingerly take the paperwork. You wonder what you might’ve signed yourself up for when you see how much writing is crammed onto the first page.

“What is this?” You ask.

“I knew you weren’t listening.” Natsuki says, a knowing glint in her eyes. “I told you that I need to get the volleyball’s club captain to submit their plan for the new people filling the team roles and other admin stuff like that.”

At the casual mention of the volleyball’s captain, dread gripped your heart.

“The volleyball captain?” You parrot back weakly.

“Yeah,” she gives you an odd look, “you know, Shirabu. The guy who you claim to hate. Surely you knew he was captain.”

Oh, you knew all too well that he was the damn captain. Being the overachieving bastard that he was, as if acing high school and aiming for medical school was enough, the dick had to add in being captain to a national-placing sports team as well.

Petulantly looking away to not meet Natsuki’s unimpressed look, your eyes incidentally met golden ones. The eye contact probably lasted all of a millisecond, but it was the most you two shared over the past few weeks. With you avoiding looking at Shirabu at every possible opportunity and Shirabu himself making no attempt to address the elephant in the room, you both let the elephant waste away and dye under the lack of attention.

Breaking the eye contact, you turn your attention back to the brunette in front of you. “Why am I doing this for you?”

“Because you’re a good friend?” She bats her eyelashes at you.

You give her a flat look, not believing her for a second.

“Come on,” she whines, “you know those volleyball guys scare me. They’re way too tall.”

“They shouldn’t. They’re a bunch a meat-heads.” You don’t mention the fact that their captain is below the national height average, which you find quite hilarious for a sport that’s all about height and strength.

“Doesn’t matter.”

“Whatever, I’ve got the papers now, so it’s already settled. Don’t say that I’m not a good friend.”

Natsuki gives you a wide smile that makes you pause.

“Maybe while you’re at it, you can sort out whatever happened between the two of you since working on that science project.”

Your skin breaks out in goose bumps at the innocent words paired with a meaningful undertone.

It was then that you swore to never underestimate the power of Natsuki’s perception.

Not wanting to interrupt practice and bring unnecessary attention to yourself, you decided it was best to wait until practice finished. Remembering the time practice should be ending from your previous sessions with Shirabu, you holed yourself up in the dorms during the meantime, trying your hardest to work through some practice exam questions to no avail. Your traitorous thoughts kept drifting to the copper-haired setter roughly handling you.

Phantom touches ghosted along the same places Shirabu had graced upon not that long ago. Unthinkingly, your thighs press together as the memory of him ruthlessly fucking into you plays in your mind for the umpteenth time this week alone.

Frustrated with your horny mind, you slap your cheeks. The sting drives away the faint tendrils of arousal and brings back clarity. God, now was not the time to be getting all hot and bothered over something he probably hasn’t thought twice about. You valued yourself more than to ruminate over something so basal.

Looking at the time, it signals that you should head off if you want to get the forms signed tonight as per Natsuki's explicit orders. Snatching the forms off the corner of your desk, you set off to the gym with a stone sitting heavy in your stomach.

Thankfully, it was warm enough to not wear a jacket. The heat teases the stress from your tense shoulders. The walk was calming, the scent of blooming sakura and freshly cut grass further soothing your frayed nerves.

You weren’t nervous per say, more anxious at finding out how your body may react to being in such close proximity to him again. Since that night, purposeful or not, you both struggled to find an appropriate time to meet up and decided that it was best to do it all online since the majority of it was completed.

The sounds of shoes squeaking over varnished wood along with the low murmur of male voices met your ears as you slide your shoes into a cubby and slipped on indoor shoes. You’ve only been in gym one three times before and that was for the opening ceremonies. The sight of high beam ceilings and sleek modern interior still astounded you.

The boys running around had mops in hand, whilst others climbed to dismantle nets, but most of them were missing. Looking around for a head of copper-hair, you hoped that Shirabu hadn’t left early like most captains would. However, your mission was interrupted as your sight was filled with black hair and glittering dark eyes peering at you.

“Hi, can I help you?”

“Yes. Is Shirabu still here?” You answer, taking note of how tall the boy is. His face doesn’t seem familiar and you’d definitely remember meeting someone with a bowl-cut. He must be in a year below you, you reason.

“Ah,” the boy’s eyes flit over to the right, “he’s over there.”

Following his line of sight, you found Shirabu standing with his arms crossed next to an open door talking to a ginger-haired guy that you’ve definitely seen in your class before.

“Thanks.” You nod to the younger who smiles to you and continues whatever chose he was assigned.

Walking over to the pair, you catch his eye without even trying. Shirabu’s expression changes minutely, a subtle twitch of the mouth that has you contemplating homicide. You were over-reacting, surely. Still, you hoped that maybe he could fake being pleasant for as long as it takes to fill the forms out.

“Sorry to interrupt –“

“No, you’re not.” Shirabu interrupts. Well there goes the fantasy of him being pleasant for one minute. Even his tall friend gives him a look for cutting you off.

“You’re right. I’m not,” You concede. Placing a hand on your hip, you hold the papers out to him.

Shirabu blankly stares at you instead of taking them, which added to your mounting annoyance. Fine. If he wanted to play the petty game, so would you.

“These are forms for the retiring captain of the volleyball club to fill out. Unfortunately it turned out to be you.” You say with a plastic smile. “The team must be really sad to see their esteemed captain leave, huh?”

Shirabu’s jaw clenched at your poorly concealed insults, not even bothering to dress them up like you preferred to do. Expecting him to rise to the bait, you waited for the onslaught of offense he’ll spew in response.

“I’m busy right now. You can wait until I’m done.”

He brushes you off, turning and walking away from you. His friend gives you an apologetic look, knowing how shitty his friend’s personality is.

Your eye twitches with restrained violence as you watched him saunter away. With clenched hands you wait by the storage room’s doorway. You dismiss the few pitying glances from the few people walking past you to put the cleaning equipment away.

You busy yourself with your phone as Shirabu continues to waste your precious time that you could be using to catch up on some much needed studying that he was unknowingly depriving you of recently.

Kenjirou had not expected you to turn up tonight, catching him by surprise. When he noticed you, an inexplicable feeling rushed over him. He tried to keep his face neutral as you drew closer but the moment you opened your mouth he couldn’t help himself.

That temporary high of riling you up and then giving you the cold shoulder was incredible. After the weeks of your frigid treatment and the plain disregard for his existence you subjected him to, it was the least he could repay you with. The worst part of it all was that he couldn’t even ask about your sudden change of attitude, as you would try your hardest to avoid being in a room alone with him.

All he did know was that he weirdly missed the fiery attitude you possessed. It frustrated him to no end that as soon as the assignment was completed, you had done your hardest to ghost him. As much as one could when you shared the same classroom for near seven hours of the day.

Your suddenly frigid attitude didn’t stop you staring, though. Kenjirou had caught you a few times looking in his direction with an indescribable expression. From your distant expression, he couldn’t tell if you either wanted to stab him or re-enact that last study session.

Regardless, the entire affair has him on edge. He thought that fucking you would vent all those conflicting emotions and give him peace. Instead he feels more restless now than ever.

And to his dismay, this did not go unnoticed by Taichi.

“Is there a reason why you’re being more of a prick to her than usual?”

Kenjirou ignored the question in favour for checking out the gym. The first and second years were generally tasked to do clean-up and they did so with vigour, feeling privileged to work in an old war-horse team with a vendetta.

“Man, I never took you to be the ‘boy pulls girl's pigtails because he likes her’ stereotype when getting a girl's attention.” Taichi muses.

Shirabu scowls at Taichi. “Shut up. She annoys the hell out of me and that’s all.”

Taichi grabs him by the arm, eyebrow piqued. “She didn’t even speak two words and you were at her throat.”

“She doesn’t need to say anything to piss me off.”

“Funny that she’s willing to be civil and yet you aren’t.”

Kenjirou chooses not to comment on that.

The pissed off expression on his face has the younger members avoiding him like the plague, choosing to leave for their dorms over loitering in the locker room.

“Are you going to help me lock up or not?”

“Only if you stop looking murderous.”

Taichi’s knee buckles as Kenjirou delivers a swift kick to the back of it.

“Go away, I can do it on my own.”

“Fine,” Taichi says, looking relieved at the early dismissal. Kenjirou didn't doubt for a moment that Taichi planned for it. “Don’t murder the cute girl. I won’t be your alibi.”

“You’re a terrible friend.” Kenjirou hisses under his breath.

Taichi laughs and leaves Kenjirou to his own devices. Remembering that you were waiting on him, he’s surprised to find that you were still there. Leaning against the wall tapping at your phone looking bored, you didn’t notice his eyes on you. You were still wearing the school uniform, with the exception of your tie and first few buttons undone.

There was a casual air about you that he didn’t get to see every day. His eyes linger on your skirt, fingers twitching with the memory of how the fabric felt under them. Without his permission, an image of your panties tucked away in the back of his bedside table flashes to the forefront of his mind.

Unlike the previous times the thought popped into mind, Kenjirou chooses not to fight it away as he turns away from you and goes through the motions of checking the locker room and hallways before locking up.

The lacy scrap of fabric was a memento of sorts, a trophy of him putting you in your place the same way he envisioned in his more… illicit fantasies. Although, they may be cursed. As absurd as the idea is, Kenjirou has no other explanation for the phenomenon that’s been occurring since his ownership of them. He can barely stand looking at the harmless piece of furniture containing them without feeling heat spark up inside of him.

At first, he ruled it to anger or frustration, a common emotion he experiences in your vicinity. It only took a week after the tryst, left alone in his dorm room for the weekend did he indulge the demon in his mind. It wasn’t until he was coming down from his high, your soft panties wrapped around his hand covered in drying cum, did the weight of his actions sink in.

It didn’t stop there, though. No, that’d be too easy for him, and if Kenjirou had learnt anything since you breezed into his life, life was all about being difficult.

He had woken up a few times to ruined sheets from dreams of your sweet moans and pliable body under his hands, all too willing to obey his every demand. It's laughable that he thinks you would ever be like that, but that’s why he supposes their called wet dreams – they’re unrealistic fantasies. The logical part of him chimes in the significance of Kenjirou liking you to the extent of your appearing in those fantasies, but Kenjirou did his best to smother that voice until it died.

The keys in his hand rattle as he shoves them into his pocket. Without even realising it, he managed to complete lock-up. The only soul besides his in the gym belonged to the only person that could piss him off with just a look.

Walking down the hallway, towards where you were waiting, Kenjirou decisively concluded the knot in his stomach was not anticipation, it was from the annoyance at knowing he was forced to be with you in the few precious hours he has to himself.

Your mindless scrolling stops as you check the time, pissed that he’s held you back for this long. You wished you could leave but you promised to give the completed forms to Natsuki in the morning and you didn’t trust Shirabu for as far as you could throw him.

Whilst you didn’t expect him to greet you with open arms and a charming smile, you were fed up with his belligerent attitude. While he’s always been like that, it’s really been grating on your nerves recently. You’ve become acutely aware of Shirabu’s every move. The sight of him alone, at ease talking among peers made you experience something you’ve never felt before.

The closest description to the feeling is butterflies fluttering around your stomach, but the idiom was simultaneously nauseating and horrifying to you.

From dwelling on it for weeks now, you knew that your sudden interest towards him stemmed from lusting over him, as adamant you were to admit. Unfortunately, you enjoyed him taking you from behind without any regard for you. It infuriated you that you got off on his nasty personality.

“Give me the papers.”

The unexpected appearance of Shirabu’s voice startles you, very nearly causing you to drop your phone.

You click your tongue at him and give him an admonishing look for his rudeness. Grabbing the papers tucked under your arm, you hand it over to him.

“Here.”

Without a word of thanks, he takes them and starts reading over them, not wanting to dignify your cold tone. Biting your tongue, you fish out a pen in your pocket. You were sorely tempted to toss it at his head, but you were above acting so childish, unlike Shirabu.

Moving close to him, you stay out of his personal space as you point to sections of the paper with the pen and start reciting everything Natsuki told you. You were nothing but meticulous and as much as you despised her for setting you up, you never half-assed anything.

At the end of your spiel, Kenjirou snatches your pen from your grasp and start filling out the form against the wall. At your indignant shout, he simply rolls his eyes.

It was obvious that Shirabu wanted to be anywhere else but here with you, evident by his silence. Weirdly enough, the thought hurt, like little pinpricks piercing your chest.

Surprisingly, Shirabu is the one to break the silence that fell over the gym.

“Why does the council need to know how many students I think are going to join next year? How could I possibly guess that?”

You roll your eyes at his griping. “Just fill out the damn form.”

Uncaring of the dilemma threatening his fastidious nature, you grinned as his jaw clenches. He’s put you through psychological torture for a month now, this was only a taste of the frustration you felt.

You felt a little vindicated when he huffs out loud at another unnecessarily specific question.

Fuck what Natsuki said, this was exposure therapy at its finest. If you could do this without admiring his body in some way then that’d be a victory. And you despised losing, so you were intent on winning this as well.

Easier said than done.

Your eyes lingered on his lips as his tongue darts out to wet them. They further stray down the column of his throat and settle on the hand scribbling down information. His hands were surprisingly slender for a guy, but no less deadly. You’ve heard about his pin-point accurate tosses and serves. You knew firsthand the mistake of underestimating his strength.

“What?” He snaps, noticing you intently staring at his hands.

“Nothing,” You sniff, trying to look disdainful to cover your embarrassment at your wondering attention.

‘For fuck’s sake, pull yourself together woman!’ You inwardly admonish yourself.

For Kenjirou, this was the last straw. He tried carrying on as normal after the incident, he tried not biting back for the sake of decency, and yet your attitude flips on him out of nowhere. He’s tired of all of this shit.

Letting the papers fall to the ground, he grabs your wrist in an iron-hard grip and bangs open the door of the storage room beside you. Fed up with your attitude, Kenjirou knew that confronting you about it could blow up in his face but he couldn’t stand his last few weeks of high school spent with your bitchy demeanour.

“Hey! What the fuck?” You protest, pulling against the tight grasp he has on your wrists as he kicks the door closed pulls your further into the dark room.

Not listening to your complaints, he pulls you behind the high stack of mats and shoves you against the shelving unit. The shelves uncomfortably dig into your back as he cages you in, arms placed beside your head, breaths intermingling.

“This has got to stop.” He growls.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” You raise your eyebrows at him, outwardly acting unaffected. Internally, your heartbeat thundered in your ears, deafening you with the excitement you felt.

“Oh, so now you want to act normal?” He snorts.

“Fuck off.”

For the past three years you’ve taken enough of his shit. You thought denying the issue attention would starve him and he’d get bored. How wrong you were. Instead you managed to piss him off even more, evident by the way the air vibrated with the tension between your bodies.

“I bet you can’t get me out of your head,” Shirabu says lowly, possessive grip on your hips tightening minutely. “Maybe that’s why you refuse to meet my eyes.”

“Don’t sound all high and mighty. I bet you get off with my underwear that you stole, asshole.” You bite back, defiantly meeting his gaze head-on to prove him wrong.

Unexpectedly, Kenjirou flushes. If you didn’t know how big of a prick he was, you’d almost think it was cute. Now though? It was all you needed to know that was exactly what he’s been using your stolen panties for.

“Oho, hit the nail on the head now, did I?” You tease, drawing your faces close enough to see the faint freckles that were hidden by the redness.

“Shut the fuck up.” He says warningly, a hard expression on his face.

“Or what? You’ll gag me again? Oh no.” You challenge, lips pursed in faux concern.

“No,” he drawls, brushing his thumb across your lower lip. “I want to hear you beg for me this time.”

His thumb presses down hard, preventing you from responding coherently . You glare at him from under your eyelashes, not liking the smug look on his face at all.

His titillating tone had your horny hindbrain rearing to go. Meanwhile, your forebrain was too stubborn to give in just because he was wanted it, despite you wanting it as well.

Shirabu’s eyes dart from your eyes to your mouth, watching your tongue flick at his thumb. He replaces it with his index and middle finger, pressing down on your tongue and admiring the way your tongue melded around them. It was the best way he could stop your witticisms for one fucking second.

“You’re so much cuter when you’re not talking.” He sighs, feigning a wistful tone.

You scowled at him, hating the fact that he was enjoying himself and that you were weirdly enjoying it as well. His other hand migrates southward, slipping up underneath your skirt. The brush of his fingertips leave a tingling sensation on your skin as it makes its way up your inner thigh.

Your knees lock up as he brushes along the edge of your panties. Unable to take his intense focus on your face, you shove shove his fingers out of your mouth and pull him down into a kiss. Much like the first one you two shared, there was much more teeth and tongue involved for it be labelled such, but you had no other word for it.

As his tongue slips in, Kenjirou forcibly rubs against the wet spot he found. He pressed against it, testing how far the fabric would stretch. You keened into his mouth at the rough feeling of the fabric stroking against your folds.

Breaking the kiss, he leans his forehead against yours. His fingers move the panties to the side and you finally get the skin-on-skin contact you’ve been craving. Stroking your bare folds and smearing the wetness around, Shirabu manages to touch you everywhere but the place you wanted him most.

“If I didn’t know better, I would’ve thought you never done this before.” You tease, hoping to urge him on but unknowingly sealing your fate for another rough night.

Shirabu’s ministrations stop and he levels you with a serious expression – a dangerous glint in his honeyed irises.

“I’m going to make you beg for me.”

Committed to his promise, he buries two fingers into you without concern. You yelp at the burn of the sudden stretch and lack of lubrication. As if you didn’t think you were insane as it was, you could feel yourself get wetter at the lick of pain. Kenjirou smirk as he watches your face screw up as he pumps and twists his fingers inside of you, feeling you become wetter around his digits.

Skillful fingers make a mess of you. Unable to support yourself on weak legs, Shirabu and the shelving unit bare your weight as you pant and give breathy sighs whenever he makes a particular set of motions that has heat rushing throughout your body and your hole gush.

It wasn’t long before you could feel that heat accumulating low in your gut. Throwing your head back and letting out a lengthy moan, needlessly warning Shirabu that you were close.

‘Just a little more,’ you thought desperately, ‘just a little more and I'll be there.’

Kenjirou knew he was a sadist at-heart, told many times by Taichi and his seniors for pushing the younger years during practice. He never had the chance to explore it with a partner before and while he never imagined you to be the one, he found himself enjoying your sinful expressions and sounds.

With a cruel smile, he watches your reaction as he pulls his fingers out of you. You Eyes fly open, hips pausing in their mindless rolling and a complaint rises to your lips.

“You fucker.”

He laughs at your reaction. it was exactly what he expected from your impatient bitchy self.

Instead of resuming the bickering from before, you force yourself to calm down. Closing your eyes and turning your thoughts inwards, you practice breathing techniques counsellors taught you for exam stress. The back of your mind registers his fingers skirting around the edge of your hole with enough pressure to cause your leg to twitch.

Envisioning the smug look on his face did not help you calm down. it caused your blood to boil all the more. Begrudgingly opening your eyes, your eyebrows furrow when you see his contemplative look.

Kenjirou wondered how long it would take for you to give in to him. From the way your chest was heaving, looking at him through lidded eyes, he concluded that it would be miracle if you could last more than two rounds of this game.

Determined to prove his theory, he ripped your skirt down with your panties in one smooth motion and slipped his fingers back into your greedy hole. It took a much shorter amount of time for you to get close this time, thighs tensing around his hand.

Trying to spread your legs wider, you’re stopped by the elastic waist of your panties. Annoyed, you step out of them and kick the skirt and panties away. Now freed, your legs spread wider to give Shirabu’s miracle hand more room to work with, which he gladly abused.

“Fuck.” You moan

“I’ve barely started and you’re already a mess,” He notes, eyeing your glistening eyes and the bared column of your throat.

“Screw you.” You hiss, thighs tensing as he works you back towards the high he ripped from you.

Kenjirou darts forward to deliver a harsh nip to your bottom lip in punishment. Not expecting it, you moaned at the bite of pain, tightening around his long fingers.

Believing you learnt you lesson, his lips move southward. Trailing down the column of you throat, his mind summons thoughts of your neck being littered with his mark. His hand increases the pace, brutally pumping in and out as the mental image makes his dick harden impossibly more.

The sting of his scalp as you tug at his hair pulls him away from the thought and in turn gives him another idea.

You smother the whine threatening to come out as he remove his fingers from your soaking hole, once again depriving you of that high.

Mildly confused, you watched as he loosens his tie and slips it over his head. It hits you a moment too late what he was planning. The fabric rasp against your overlapped wrists and tightens as he slide the knot down.

“I didn’t know you were into that, Shirabu. Mummy and daddy must be so proud of their little boy using their knot tying skills for bondage.” You comment, to which he rolls his eyes and forces your arms upwards to loop the other end of the tie around a pole.

He tests your new restraints by tugging at the knot. Satisfied with his handiwork, he turns his attention back to you.

“I was serious about you begging,” he starts conversationally, like you weren’t tied up and half naked. “I’m not going to fuck you until you do.”

“I’d like to see you try and get me begging, pretty boy.” You taunt him full-well knowing that you were starting to become a little desperate. Once clear mind was now clouded with a need that he’s been denying you over and over again.

Kenjirou knew this as well. Your legs were trembling minutely, your pupils dilated, and face flushed a cute pink. He could tell you were close to breaking. He was mildly surprised that you survived this far in, but your resilience – more like stubbornness, he muses – only served to make him all the more determined to break you.

Unlike before, it starts off slow. Calloused fingers massaging your faintly pulsing walls as you roll your hips against his palm. Just when he lulls you into a sense of security, the pace is amped straight back to maximum and fans his fingers out.

Kenjirou scissors his fingers as he pulls out and twists his wrist as he draws out. This had your eyes rolling into the back of your head, loud moan reverberating off of the walls.

It takes only a few pumps and a twist to have the heat grow and spark inside of you as he brings you closer to an orgasm than the previous times.

Kenjirou can feel the tell-tale fluttering of your walls, thighs clenching around his hand, as if trying to force him deeper. Easing up, he lazily pumps his digits in and out, watching as your expression twists into a pained one as he rips yet another orgasm from you.

“Fuck me already.” You moan, fed up with the ups and downs. You both loved and hated Shirabu having all the power right now. You’re sure this was something you’ll contemplate once this is all said and done.

“You know what I want.” He massages your walls and brushes against a sensitive spot.

A moan cuts off your words, walls clenching down on long fingers that weren’t enough to scratch the itch deep inside of you.

“Say it.”

Kenjirou buries his fingers inside of you, this time deeper than before, reaching spots that your own failed to reach. You very nearly screamed at the sensation. Shirabu was pushing you to your wits end without any effort.

“Please! Just fuck me already!”

The tears gathering at the corners of your eyes spill as he hastily pulls his fingers out of your sopping core. The sound of a zipper followed by fabric dropping to the floor fill your ears as Kenjirou hastily preps himself.

Smearing the juices from your dripping hole onto his length with slick fingers, Kenjirou catches your eyes as he strokes himself and smirks at your curious look.

A blush sears onto your cheeks at his look. Last time you didn’t get to take a look at his member, even though you became intimately aware of its slight upwards curve, you had to admit to yourself that his length was impressive. You’d rather cut out your own tongue than tell him that, so you make sure your face devoid of those thoughts.

Kenjirou doesn't waste a moment as he grabs your thigh and wraps it around his back as he lines himself up. The breath in your chest stalls as his tip prods at your entrance.

“Good girl,” He breathes as he finally enters you inch by excruciating inch.

Head dropping back, your arms strain against their restraints as his dick perfectly fills every crevice inside of you. The slight sting of the stretch brings more tears to your eyes, but it was soon overshadowed by the liquid pleasure that coursed through your veins as he starts rocking up into your warmth.

The shelves rattle as each thrust jostles you back. You were unaware of the pain caused by them digging into your back as each stroke already had you becoming closer and closer to your peak. The friction alone from his hurried pace had your toes curling and mind wiped of coherent thought.

Having you tied up and at the mercy of his whims had blood rushing from his head to his dick. It was an incredible feeling to tame your fiery spirit, creating a high that he could see himself chasing for the rest of his life.

“Look at you, taking my cock like the good cock-slut you are.” He pants into your ear.

You moan loudly, not giving a single fuck for any unfortunate soul that might still be in the gym, as your evasive orgasm finally comes into arms.

Your walls tighten around Kenjirou's length hard enough for him to hiss. Kenjirou knew you were close, moans reaching a new pitch. As a reward for you being compliant with him, Kenjirou lends you a helping hand. With a few strokes of your sensitive bundle of nerves he tips you over the edge.

Sparks coalesce inside of you and dance along your skin as you orgasm, creaming over Shirabu’s cock. Your vision turns black, but the feeling of Shirabu fucking you through your orgasm intensifies as he works through your tight warmth, seeking out his own peak.

“Kenjirou.”

Hips jerking out of motion, Kenjirou nearly chokes on his tongue as his orgasm sudden crashes down on him at your call of his name. Burying himself as deep as possible, cum sprays inside of you with considerable force as he unloads inside of your hole.

“You sound so good begging and moaning for me,” He pants. “It’s the only time where you’re not being a bitch.”

“Like you can talk Mr. When-I-Talk-Over-Someone-I’m-Automatically-The-Winner. You’re no better-”

Abruptly pulling out, Kenjirou replaces his cock with his fingers, pushing his cum back inside of your leaking hole. A weak groan rattles your chest as his fingers brush against sensitive hole, holding their position.

“As you were you saying?” He says smoothly, knowing he’s robbing you of speech as he applies more pressure to your hole.

“You fucker.” You grit out, tugging at your restraints as you automatically move to try and move his hands away, the full feeling of his hot cum inside you becoming overwhelming.

“A reward for being a good girl.” He breathes into your ear, causing a shiver to consume your form.

Reaching up with his free hand, Shirabu single-handedly undoes the knots of his tie and frees your wrists. You’d be impressed by this if it weren’t for his two fingers rubbing incessantly against you the entire time, making your vision fritz at the edges.

Arms falling to your sides, the blood rushes back into them and the feeling of static pairing wonderfully with the way Shirabu’s digits moved against your abused hole.

Pain flares up in your wrists when you grab his hand to stop his unrelenting movements. Working through the pain, you move his hand away. As Shirabu pulls away from you, he avidly watches as his cum drains from you. You swallow thickly at the sensation of warm globs trailing down your thigh.

Disgusted at the feeling of it drying, you glance around and spot a roll of paper towel sitting on the shelf beside your head.

You busied yourself by cleaning up the mess Shirabu made of you as the devil himself also wiped himself off.

Leaning down to pull up his shorts, Kenjirou notes the red fabric sticking out from your skirt piled on the floor. Surreptitiously checking that you weren’t paying attention, he tucks the fabric into his pocket with a sly grin, claiming his rightful trophy to his second conquest.

Glancing over to Shirabu as you pick up your skirt, you find him tucking himself back into his shorts with a carefully blank look on his face. You eye him suspiciously, unknowing of what he was going to do or say next.

“Here’s the key, lock up when your done and give it back tomorrow.”

You scramble to catch the key he tosses at you, dropping your skirt in the process. He doesn’t wait to hear your complaints, giving you one last long look and waltzes on out like he didn’t have you tied up and fucked senseless not even five minutes ago.

Incredulously, you watched his back disappear around the corner. Shaking your head, you go to pick up you skirt again. Noticing the absence of red fabric inside of the purple plaid, you looked around the floor, hoping that maybe you kicked them under the shelves.

After one quick look around, the fate of another pair of your favourite panties hits you like a brick to the head.

“Motherfucker!” You scream after him.

The deep laughter in the distance filters through your ears and fanned the hatred simmering inside as well as the blush doing its best to turn you into a strawberry impersonation.

Leaning against the shelving unit, chest heaving and sweat drying along your skin, you swore to fix the part of you that craved Shirabu's touch.

Notes: Too bad I can’t write degrading stuff without looking too far into it because goddamn does Shirabu suite it. Hope you enjoyed this indulgent fic!!

#shirabu kenjirou x reader #shirabu kenjiro x reader #shirabu kenjirou #reader-insert #haikyuu reader insert #haikyu!! x reader #head filled with nothing but shirabu recently #shiratorizawa #haikyu!!

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six-of-woes · 4 years

Text

The Clown and the Potato Sack (Aerin Valleros x MC)

Chapter 1/? : ...What Now?

Paring: Aerin Valleros x MC

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24533863

Word count: 2381

Summary: Now with the Dreadlord defeated and her friends out of Whitetower, Cassia Nightbloom, is bored. Extremely bored. She wants to do literally anything, but she doesn't know what. Her solution? Try to get some answers from a certain corrupt prince. Unfortunately, that leads to a wacky yet angsty adventure involving a potato sack, a wooden spoon, and A LOT of clowning around.At least she's doing something...right?

Authors Note: Hi so this is my first time posting fic on Tumblr so if I’m doing something wrong feel free to tell me just be nice about it because my ego is fragile Anyway! I hope you guys like it, I thought we clowns could use some content until book 2 comes out. Idk if i’ll ever continue this, i meant for it to be a one-shot but I couldn’t really get my whole plan into one chapter. So. Hopefully there’s more. No promises tho lol

@what-do-you-mean-theyre-evil @theclowneryqueen @findmeafterlife @0oi-io0 @thatgirlbuhle @mirabelle-choices @souhmhey @king-erzsebet @vlastomilsworm @diamonds-and-decorum @xsweetnspookyx

~~~

Cassia watched from the castle balcony as a raggedy caravan rolled out of Whitetower. They’re really gone now, she thought, turning her back on the city. There was a new kind of…emptiness inside her now that Mal, Nia, Tyril, and Imtura were all gone. Maybe they’d only known each other a few months, but to someone who barely had any family to call their own—it struck a certain chord with Cassia to see them go.

She sighed and noted the setting sun—her reminder that she should probably get to dinner. Not that Cassia wanted to spend yet another dinner answering the pointless questions of all those stuffy nobles, but she felt obliged to as Morella’s hero—at least until she figured out where she was going to go from here.

As Cassia walked through the towering corridors, she thought some more about where she wanted to go. Kade wanted to go back to Riverbend(but only after he’d exhausted the library), not in any particular mood to experience any more danger than he already had. Of course, Cassia couldn’t blame him. If she’d spent months in a realm of pure darkness being tortured, she would want at least a break as well.

But that was the thing: she hadn’t been in the Shadow Realm and she wasn’t like Kade. Cassia always thirsted for adventure and as much as she loved Riverbend, she spent twenty out of the almost twenty-one years of her life there. There was so much more out there and if her nightmare had any shred of truth, Cassia knew she had to be there.

But where? She’d already decided against going with any of the others when they left—Cassia’s injuries would make intense sailing with Imtura or any of what Mal had planned painful and difficult, and she wanted to give Nia the room to figure things out on her own. The idea that seemed most plausible for her was going undercount with Tyril. It would’ve been a prime opportunity to learn more about where she came from, after all. Yet…she still felt awkward going there—Cassia knew almost nothing of the elven societal cues and would feel a little useless when trying to help out Tyril with her duties.

She shook her head as she reached the doors of the dining hall. “Never mind all that.” She muttered. “I made my decision.”

“Finally!” Called a voice. “You had me thinking you were going to bail!”

Cassia looked up to see Kade, sitting on one of the corridor benches. He held a new book in his hand, different from the one Cassia had seen him reading at breakfast.

“Sorry,” she muttered, leaning against the closed doors. “Just wanted to make sure the others made it out of town safely.” She swallowed the knot in her throat and nodded toward the dining hall. “Let’s just get to dinner.”

Kade raised an eyebrow, but nonetheless followed Cassia into the hall.

When they entered, Cassia was surprised to see only King Arlan, Threep, and Loola sitting at the table. None of them looked particularly cheerful—not even Threep, who just stared at his dinner plate with a somber expression.

“Your majesty,” Cassia breathed, dipping into a curtsy. “It’s a pleasure to be in your—“

“Oh hush, Cassia,” Arlan said, shaking his head. “There’s no one else here and you’ve more than cemented yourself as a friend of the crown.”

Cassia coughed and straightened up. “Right…Is there any particular reason for the ah—grim mood and significant lack of nobles?”

Arlan cleared his throat and eyed the nespers. “Well…there’s news.”

Cassia felt her heart catch in her throat. News? It can’t have anything to do with what that hooded being said in my dream, could it? No, of course not. It was just a nightmare…right?

“Is something wrong?” Kade piped, eyebrows already creasing with worry.

The king shared a look with Threep and Loola, who looked back at Kade and Cassia.

“Aerin’s awake now,” Threep said, stretching his wings. “I saw him myself in the dungeons—he’s still very much corrupted, but—“

“He’s quiet,” Loola spoke. “All he’s done is hug his knees and stare at the wall.”

Kade scoffed. “Sounds to me like he’s scheming. Want me to punch him again?”

Cassia elbowed her brother (lightly) in the side. “I’m sure it’s fine. Even if he was scheming, there’s really nothing he can do. His cell is surrounded by guards 24/7, there’s a magical barrier around it, and besides, if for some reason he gets out—“ she gestured to the three weapons of legend she had strapped to her body. “I’ll have it handed.”

“Sure,” Kade said, rolling his eyes as he took a seat at the table. He went to drink from his goblet, but a playful smirk graced his lips. “You’re just saying that because you kissed him.”

Cassia grumbled as she took a seat next to Kade at the table. “We don’t have to keep bringing that up,” she whispered through gritted teeth. “That was like, a month ago—before he was you know—evil.”

“Whatever you say,” Kade taunted, still smirking as he took a sip from his goblet.

~~~

The rest of dinner was relatively low-key. Cassia filled Arlan in on what the others were going to do now that they were gone and Kade entertained them all with wild stories from the deep corners of his mind.

Once dinner was over, however, and Kade, Loola, and Threep all returned to their previous business, leaving Cassia to do as she pleased. Problem was, Cassia didn’t really have anything to do.

She found herself standing in the middle of the corridor for what was longer than considered usual—even for Cassia.

“Dammit!” She cried, hours later. “I’m bored as all hells!” In a fit of rage, Cassia kicked the solid gold leg of a nearby bench. Solid. Gold. Promptly after kicking it, Cassia let out a pained yelp and brought her foot up to her arms.

After a few more seconds of hopping on one foot and whisper-shouting an array of curses, Cassia collapsed onto the bench and buried her face in her hands.

“Gods…” she groaned. “I really need to get out of here and do something more dangerous than stubbing my toe.”

But, what was there to do? The most dangerous place Cassia could think of was the Nooks and Crannies—but the real danger was really the guards and Cassia wasn’t interested in picking fights with them right now. She and Mal had already informed Arlan of the corruption, there was no need to escalate a situation that was already under control.

She thought back to visiting them with Mal…and how they got out of their scuffle with the guards.

Unconsciously, Cassia ran her fingers over the ring Aerin had given her. She still hadn’t taken it off, even after the betrayal. It was a reminder of their night at the lake.

She let out another groan. There were so many things about that night that didn’t make sense. Why would he save the unicorn? Sure, it could’ve been to defy Baldur, but…the character he’d been playing didn’t seem like the kind to do that kind of thing. And besides—it was a living thing. Cassia kinda figured the shadow realm had a thing against them—as long as they weren’t a part of their little posse. So why? Why would he do it?

And as a matter of fact, why did he actually not not want to be with her when she “pretend” (as she liked to tell herself) flirting with him during the final battle? That was weird. For someone with such a cold and hardened heart he certainly seemed pretty open to still having her be with him. Were her seduction skills really that good?

Well, to be fair, she did seduce a giant bug. So maybe they were.

So many questions and no way to get answers. Unless…?

He’s awake. Cassia thought. You could go down there…I’m sure the guards would let us—a hero of the realm—go see him. Maybe you could get some answers. Only answers though. You don’t like him anymore, remember? He kinda tried to kill you and all your friends. Also tried to take of the world. So only answers. Nothing else.

She thought about it for a few minutes. No one other than the guards would have to know, right? Not Threep, not Loola, not Arlan or Kade…and especially not Mal. The snitch.

“Godsdammit,” Cassia groaned, looking up at the ceiling. “I can’t believe I’m this bored.”

And with that, she got up and headed toward the dungeons, against her better judgement, yes, but even if she didn’t want to admit it…

…Cassia was a horny bitch.

~~~

Aerin had been put at the lowest level of the dungeons, about four stories below ground. Why the castle need that many floors was beyond Cassia, but nonetheless, she continued her journey down. Down. Down. Down.

Aaaannnnd it turns out walking down stairs for what feels like an eternity is just as boring as standing in the middle of the corridor. Only difference is the corridor is WARM!

“Do you hear that?” Echoed a guard’s voice.

Cassia stopped in her tracks.

“Yeah. Sounds like footsteps. Probably Woodworth and Highmourn coming to relieve us early. Let’s just get going early, tonight’s my anniversary and I don’t want to have to make it up to the ol’ husband again.”

“What about the prince? Weren’t we given strict orders to not leave him alone?”

“Ack, who cares? I mean, look at him—what’s he gonna do, cry about it?”

There was a bout of hearty laughter followed by the clanking of armor. Thinking fast and remembering Mal’s trick, Cassia dodged out of the guards sight and held her breath until they passed. Once she was sure they were long gone, she sprinted the rest of the way down the stairs until she reached Aerin’s cell.

At first glance, it looked like any other cell—dark, damp, and decrepit. But when Cassia got closer, she could see the gold haze of the magical barrier keeping him in. Well, if nothing else, he should at least have a hard time getting out of that. Cassia thought, slowing down to a tip toe the closer she got.

Finally, she reached Aerin’s cell. Unsure if whether or not he was aware of her presence, Cassia just stared. He looked so small. Of course, before all of this, Cassia still had maybe a few inches on him, but then, he wasn’t absolutely helpless. He wasn’t wearing the brilliant red and gold suit he wore the whole time they knew each other, instead wearing a brown tunic and pants that looked more like poorly-stitched together potato sacks than actual clothes. Even in the dark, Cassia’s elven vision could see that he was still grey. Many of the dark veins had gone, but he was still very much corrupted by the shadow.

What do I even say to him? She thought, slipping the Gauntlet of Pain on and off her wrist. Obviously, I’m just here to get questions, so like, just ask him a question. Duh. Easy. Don’t make it awkward. It’s not like you kissed him or anything—oh wait.

“Ahem—“ Cassia started.

“—I already said, I don’t want any food, Highmourn. Now please, if both of you could shut up while I brood I would much appreciate it!”

Cassia coughed. “Sounds like somebody didn’t get their beauty sleep.”

Aerin gasped and whipped around, scowl deepening when he saw Cassia standing over him.

“What are you doing here?!” He spat, rising to his full height(which unfortunately for him, didn’t really look intimidating to Castalia). “Are you here to rub it in? To gloat? Where are all your friends? Am I just not worth their time?”

Cassia sighed and rolled her eyes.

“Calm down, Aerin. I’m not here to antagonize you—you’ve already done that enough—“

“—You just antagonized me! You lie!”

Cassia raised an eyebrow. “…And you’re a drama queen. I’m just here to ask you a few questions and I’ll be out of your hair.”

Aerin scoffed and turned his back to her. “What reason could I possibly have to answer to you? You won, Cassia. You got everything you wanted and I have nothing. Why do I have to give you anymore?”

A few seconds of silence passed. Cassia tried to deny how much that stung, but the tears that started to well up in her eyes proved otherwise.

“Fine,” she snapped, voice wavering. “I’ll only ask you one thing. Then I’ll leave you alone for the rest of your miserable life. Is that enough for you?”

Aerin’s shoulders hunched. “Only if it’ll get you to leave.”

“Alright.” Cassia’s hands balled into fists. “What happened?”

Her words echoed through the dungeon. Seconds passed where the only movement was that of the salty, salty tears rolled down Cassia’s cheeks.

Eventually, Aerin’s shoulders relaxed. “Why do you want to know?”

“Because you were my friend, Aerin. And I want to know why you could so easily go from someone sweet, kind, and compassionate to literally trying to take over the world.”

“Easy,” he spat. “I’ve been corrupted by the shadow court and had a damn good way of hiding it. Can you go now?”

Cassia sighed. “But that night at the lake…you saved that unicorn. If you had such a hatred for human life, why would you save it?”

“That’s more than one question.”

Gods, is this who he really is? Incredibly difficult?

“Fine,” she sighed. “I’ll leave. Have a nice life.”

Cassia wiped her face and turned to leave. Of course she wasn’t gonna get the answers she so desperately wanted. They were right there. What was the point of coming down there anyway?

“Wait!”

She stopped.

“I’ll tell you what happened, Cassia. But…it’s a long story.”

Cassia turned back around and saw Aerin, grasping the bars of his cell with the same vulnerable, hurt, look she remembered from the Deadwood.

She walked back over and took a seat on the ground.

“I have time.”

#blades of light and shadow #bolas #aerin valleros #prince aerin #Aerin x mc #blades of light and shadow fan fiction #fan fiction #playchoices #pixelberry

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purplesurveys · 3 years

Text

1046

Does it annoy you when people make their default of them kissing someone? I don’t mind kissing photos or icons. But hmm, I can imagine being a little grossed out if it’s an image of them kissing with tongue or if it’s generally a little on the sloppy side.

Are there any names you can think of that just go well together? Well there’s...a lot of names in existence lmao, so there’s a lot of combinations out there that I like for sure. I just don’t rank them and I don’t have a name combination of choice just yet.

Do you enjoy museums? I’m obsessed with museums. In every single one of our family trips, my dad has always made sure to book at least one museum visit for me so I can return back home happy, hahaha. I also visit and revisit museums in my own time, and I’m open to going to any kind of museum whether it’s natural history, art, science, ancestral homes, etc.

Have you ever met anyone famous? One of my coworkers plays the drums for a local band that’s got a bit of a following, so it was definitely a shock when I first saw his name in our work group chat. Someone I used to be close friends with in the local wrestling community is now an actor/influencer and doing a billion gigs and photoshoots all day. We’re still mutuals so every now and then I’d comment on one of his posts and congratulate him on how far he’s come.

Describe the scariest dream you can remember? I never like it when someone I love is shot in my dreams. The scariest dream I had recently is probably the one where I watched three planes drop to the ground all at the same time and explode.

Have you ever been to a mint where they make money? Nopes. I think the BSP had been part of one of Nina’s field trips before, but my batch didn’t get to have the itinerary.

Do you ever get really, really hyper? Occasionally.

Are you left or right handed, or ambidextrous? Right-handed.

If ambidextrous, do you prefer writing with your right or left hand?

What is your favourite subject at school? Any history elective, biology, political science.

Do you ever use Yahoo! Answers? For seriousness or for trolling? I used to read both serious (when I have a legit question) and funny (when I was bored and just wanted to lurk on the site) items on it. These days, when I have a genuine question, Google usually pulls up a Quora link which I find has been more helpful than Yahoo! Answers ever was.

Have you ever stepped on a thumb tack? No, but my brother did when he was a baby and was first learning how to walk.

Do you have a username you use for everything? Or does it change each site? I use my first name + surname for more serious, professional websites. Then I have a go-to for everything else.

Are you in Miami bitch? :D No. Not really interested in going to Florida at all, to be honest.

How did you break the last bone you broke? I’ve never broken a bone.

Have you ever used Nexopia? Never used, never heard of it before.

What has been the best year of school for you so far? Junior year of both high school (2014-15) and college (2018-19) were really great for me. There was a string of good events that happened in both, and I was able to have a lot of fun, gain friends, and have a number of positive learning and growing-up experiences.

Do you have any disorders or disabilities? I’ve always worried that I have BPD, but from the time I started considering it until today I’ve only done self-diagnosis, so idk. There’s definitely a lot more to unpack when it comes to me, mentally and psychologically.

Do you ever watch How To videos? Not really. How It’s Made videos are fun to watch though.

Do you enjoy trolling? It doesn’t even sound fun.

Have you ever been to an emergency room? If so, what for? Never been.

Which emoticon face do you use most often? Things like: :) :( :D :P :L D: Most of the time I’ll use the open- and closed-mouth smileys. I use the sad face as well, and occasionally I’ll pull out the :3 and :/ emoticons.

Are you a musical sort of person? I mean, are you musically talented? Yeah, not at all. I can’t sing, read music, nor play any instrument.

How did you break the first phone you broke? So my mom hooked my first phone to a lanyard that I was made to wear as it was the surest way I wouldn’t be able to lose it (I was 7, which really should not be an age for kids to receive their first phones lol). One day I was being a little more rambunctious than usual, and while moving around the hook to the lanyard suddenly came off, and the phone crashed to the ground. It messed up the screen a bit and the hook also got a little fucked from there; eventually the phone came off during my 1st grade field trip and I never realized, and I lost the phone.

Did you have a tree house when you were a kid? If so, did you ever fall from it? We did not have a treehouse. My grandpa surely would’ve been the type to make one for his grandkids as he’s great at building stuff and working with wood, but it just wasn’t plausible considering most trees here are crawling with fire ants and other weird and potentially dangerous insects.

Have you ever been on vacation to a snow field? I don’t know what that is but I’ll go ahead and say no as I’ve never seen snow anyway.

When you go on vacation, what mode of transport do you usually use? We take road trips most of the time because my dad likes to drive. But if it’s gonna be on another island in the country, like Palawan or Batanes, then we obviously have to take a plane.

What is the worst show, in your opinion on MTV? The best? I don’t care for any shows on MTV and I typically think most of them look like they suck. The few ones I’ve seen, like Teen Wolf and Scream, certainly didn’t help.

Do you like Jason Derϋlo? Eh, some of his hit songs are catchy but I’m not a fan fan.

Are there any movies that just creep you out so much? Aside from everything about it being creepy, Eraserhead is just so depressing to watch. Midsommar is also a freaky film.

Have you ever had a close encounter with a shark? I don’t think so.

Do you have any hotties on your walls? I have a poster of Nam Joo Hyuk that Angela got me when she went to South Korea, but he’s more cute than hot to me tbh.

Do you ever wish dinosaurs came back to life and there were cute and snuggly? Not really. But it would’ve been interesting to see how they would look like in real life, and know their temperament and things like that.

How many countries have you been to? Aside from having been around my own, 6.

How many states have you been to? In all the countries you’ve been to? We stayed in one city/state for each country I’ve gone to - Bali, Singapore, Johor, Shanghai, Jeju, and Fukuoka.

What is a song you heard long before it became popular and everyone liked it? Idk about songs, but this was me with The Crown lol.

Do you enjoy designing things? Anything? Not my thing at all. This is more of Nina’s specialty. Girl can make anything look pretty.

Do you know anyone who has gotten themselves into a serious accident? Yeah. Off the top of my head, I remember my aunt getting involved in a hit-and-run with a motorcycle and needing to get a number of stitches on her head. My cousin Joelle also got into a bad car accident a few Christmases ago that totally wrecked her vehicle.

Can you play anything on the violin? Nope, I never learned how to play. It’s one of my favorite instruments though.

Do you know what a raincheck at stores is? Never heard of that. I’ve heard some people say “I’m gonna have to take a rain check” whenever they abruptly have to bail on a plan at the last minute, but I think you’re talking of a different raincheck here.

Whose funeral was the last you went to? Nacho’s wake. Never been to a funeral.

Who got married at the last funeral you went to? That’s pretty fucked up.

What do you think of excessively long names? What about their shortenings? I don’t have an opinion on either.

Do you ever get hay fever? No.

Do you know anyone with the last name Pilbeam? Never heard of that surname before.

When you were little, did you have those magnet letters on your fridge? We may have had those? I’m not sure. I haven’t seen the fridge I grew up with for a while now. I do know Athenna had those magnet poetry phases on her family’s fridge and we used to try to make poems with them.

Have you seen the Techno Jeep video on YouTube? I have not, and it doesn’t sound familiar.

Does your house have a wood fire? No.

Do you know what a Pibgorn is? I don’t think so. I can’t recognize the term.

Can you learn the lyrics of a song by ear, or do you have to search them up? It’s 50/50 for me. Sometimes it’ll be easy for me to recognize the lyrics, and other times it’s incredibly difficult.

Do you like the name Amy? It’s a pretty name. I’d consider it as a second or third name.

Have you ever got an x-ray? How about a brain scan? Just an x-ray.

#survey #surveys

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k1ngtok1 · 4 years

Text

“What child doesn’t wish to fly”

Hi hello yes if you know me, you know I love me some winged!Roman. Hope you like it! Please give me some feedback! Reblogs and likes are appreciated and cherished! The word count is 2,603

Tw: Knife mention, blood mention, remus being remus, mild cursing, pain,

Relationships: brotherly Creatitwins, platonic LAMP, prinxiety if you squint and put on glasses

Summary: Roman has wings. Let’s not shy around that. They were big, fluffy, brown angel wings, and they were awesome!

At least to him.

Roman sighed as he easily slipped on a hoodie that looked almost exactly like his tunic. It wasn’t a recording day, so he could wear something a little more comfortable than his usual outfit. Tucking his wings into said hoodie was the hard part.

“W-why won’t you just- c’mon” he grunted angrily, trying to tuck the lower feathers of his wings into his jacket or at least his pants. It would be uncomfortable sitting on them, but if it meant the other sides didn’t find out, then he would bear with it.

“Kiddo! Breakfast is ready!” Patton chirped from outside the door. Roman panicked a little, he couldn’t let Patton come in, lest he see.

“I’m getting ready! Be out in a moment!” He called, managing to get the feathers of one wing inside his jacket, by the way they were angled, he could tell they were going to hurt later. Just another price he would have to pay to keep his secret hidden.

“Ok! Don’t take too long though, wouldn’t want your eggs to get cold.” Patton replied, leaving Roman to assume he walked down the hallway into the kitchen. Roman could not let those eggs get cold. He increased his efforts, desperately swatting at his feathers before slowing down a little and finally being able to tuck them into his pants. The symmetry would bother him later, but all that mattered now was the his eggs stayed warm.

As Roman opened his door and started towards the kitchen, he thought about what this whole hiding-his-very-cool-wings thing was for.

This whole thing started because he was anxious. Wow, now was starting to sound like Virgil! But yes, he was ...anxious. He was scared, terrified even, of what would happen if he were to reveal his extra limbs to the others.

You see, Roman hasn’t always had wings. After the split, Roman and Remus were your average, actually, scratch that, your not-so-average run of the mill twins, in that they hate each others guts most of the time, but Roman would gladly stab an army of dragon witches to death for his brother, as would Remus.

Being Thomas’ more... wholesome creativity, he was the one who took over aspects such as hopes and dreams. And Thomas, like any child, miiiiiight have had a tiny, no, huge dream of being able to fly. So imagine 8 year old Roman’s surprise when he feels sharp pains below his shoulder blades. It wasn’t agonizing just yet, but it was enough for Roman to summon his worse half.

“Is this an occult meeting? Was I finally summoned by my loyal followers? Where’s the bod-“ Remus stopped talking when he saw his brother curled up on his bed. “Oh wow, you look like someone stabbed you with a bunch of knives and didn’t stop the internal bleeding when they patched you back up,”

Roman could care less about Remus’ description of him at that point, the pain was worsening. Small spasms of pure hurt were shooting though him.

Remus, finally realizing that yes this is real and yes his brother is in pain, ran over to Roman, having to crawl up onto the bed in order to properly reach him. “What’s wrong?” Remus said, seriously, for probably the first and last time in his life.

“...h-hurts....m-my back...” Roman managed to squeeze out between pants and rapid breaths.

“Uh.. uhhhhhh,” Remus said, eloquently. He really was great at comforting others, wasn’t he.

Luckily, Remus didn’t have to think of a way to help Roman, because now his red and white leach of a brother was clinging to his midsection and getting his outfit wet with tears.

After ten very long minutes of agony, Roman felt... weird. His brain felt as if there was an army of ants crawling through it. Little ants with jackhammers and megaphones, that is. He could feel the comforter below him, but his arms were still wrapped securely around Remus. He had long pants on, so it couldn’t be his legs. And what was that weight on his back?

“Woah,” Remus whispered, astounded. “Look... y-you...”

Roman shifted slightly, trying not to move his sore body any more than he needed to, and proceeded to gasp at what he saw he saw. He was NOT expecting to see feathers, much less connected to him!

“Rem?” Roman was starting to panic. “W-why ar- is t-there...” he trailed off, more tears starting to fill his eyes. What was that? Why did it come out of him? What in the name of Cinderella’s left slipper was going on!?

After Remus somehow managed to calm down Roman (a miracle, truly), he started to admire his new additions. Somehow already feathered (he didn’t question it), they were a burnt amber color, with small ember-like sparkles dusted in places. He tried to lift one of the wings, but only managed a few inches before stopping.“...Im still confused,” he said, quietly. “Why... why do I have wings?” He asked.

“Well,” Remus started, “we could ask Logan?” He suggested. “He almost always has an answer for everything!” He said, smiling.

Roman thought about it for a minute. “No,”

Remus’ smile fell a little, “Why not?”

Roman sighed “Logan hates things that are ‘illogical’, and I think this counts,” he chuckled, lifting his wing up a little bit again.

Remus persisted, “What about-“

Roman cut him off, “I don’t think I wanna tell anybody, Rem. They’ll look at me weird,” he explained. This was a very plausible outcome in the child’s mind, that or he watched too many movies.

Remus looked like he wanted to argue, but Roman stared at him with a pleading look, and he backed down. The two brothers spent the rest of the day researching birds and testing out his wings in the imagination. He enjoyed himself.

“Earth to Roman, come in Roman,” he saw a hand waving in front of his face. His eyes followed the arm the hand was connected to and eventually landed on a sleep deprived Virgil’s face. He looked around, noticing how somehow he was sat at the bar in the kitchen, and had been blankly staring at the marble counter for about 5 minutes now.

“Oh, sorry,” he apologized quickly, “Daydreaming,”

Virgil shrugged and went back to his food, allowing Roman to loose himself in his thoughts again. At least until Logan came into the room.

“Salutations,” he said, dryly. Not waiting for a response, he marched over to the fridge and pulled out a half full jar of crofters. During this, Roman remembered his eggs, which had cooled significantly, and started stuffing his face. Logan walked over to the seat on the other side of Roman, and sat down.

“Welp,” Virgil started, getting out of his seat and putting his dish in the sink, where Patton was washing them, “imma go mentally prepare for the day, see y’all in like, two hours,” he started walking out of the room. Passing Roman, he gave him a rather large pat on the back.

Right on one of his wings.

Roman’s eyes went wide. He sat strait up and dropped his fork as a weird tingling- almost painful sensation went down his spine. Everyone turned to look at him, Patton was concerned, and Logan had half his face full of jam. Virgil awkwardly pulled his hand away from Roman’s back.

“Are you ok, kiddo?” Patton questioned. Concern was evident in his eyes as he cocked his head slightly to the side.

“Everything’s fine, padre,” Roman assured the moral side, praying that no one questioned him further.

“I don’t know if I believe you,” Logan asserted. Roman was starting to internally panic.

“Seriously! I’m fine!” Roman racked his brain for an excuse, “Virgil’s hand was just really cold,”

Virgil looked at him incredulously, “You’re wearing a hoodie,”

Fuck, Roman needed to work on his lying. He stood up out of his chair, “Thanks for breakfast, Padre, but I have some... script... stuff to work on,” he started to walk toward the hallway. Unfortunately Logan got there first, blocking the doorway.

“Not so fast, Roman. We know something is troubling you, and we are your friends, are we not? It would be emotionally beneficial for you to tell us, so that we may help,” Logan reasoned.

Roman was backed into a (metaphorical, he was really still in the middle of the kitchen) corner. “I told you, I’m fine!” He repeated. All he wanted was to get to his room and do something to make his wings stop feeling so uncomfortable.

“Bullshit” Virgil declared, ignoring the small ‘language!’ from Patton, “You’re hiding something, and it’s hurting you, so give it up you limp noodle!”

The limp noodle in question was very panicked at this point, slightly shaking. He couldn’t let them know, he couldn’t. That would only mean bad things. He needs to get back to his room. He needs Remus. If they know they’ll hate him. He doesn’t want them to hate him.

Apparently he wasn’t hiding his panic as well as he thought was, because Patton walked over with a concerned frown, “Oh, Roman,” he put his arms around his child and squeezed him in a large bear hug.

Patton’s arms were right on Roman’s wings.

Roman cried out and slumped against Patton, causing them both to fall to the tile floor below. He curled up into a ball, his breathing turning ragged. It hurt, it hurt just like the first time he got his wings. Only this time he didn’t have Remus. Apparently you’re not supposed to press down on the joints connecting the wings to the rest of the body.

Surprisingly, it was Virgil who was the first to act. “We need to get him to the couch. Patton, help me get his hoodie off, Logan, go get some heat packs” he ordered, thinking that Roman must suffer from back cramps or something similar.

Logan hesitated for a moment before rushing off, leaving the others to carry a slightly limp Roman to the couch in the living room. They tried to pull off the prince like hoodie, but because of the feathers tucked in haphazardly earlier, Roman cried out whenever they tried. Patton’s eyes lit up with an idea, and he rushed off to go find some scissors, letting Virgil sit there, holding the prince’s hand, trying to be a source of comfort for him.

Virgil was abso-fuckin-lutely freaking out internally, but he had to be there for his friends. Before long, Patton come back holding a pair of sharp scissors in his hands, taking care to walk, not run, like they tell you to do in school. He carefully snipped along one of the seams on Roman’s hoodie, silently promising to sew it back together later. He started to get confused when, among the red and gold of the prince’s t-shirt, there was a brown feather.

“Is that..?” Patton trailed off. He focused back on the hoodie. Soon, he had it all the way clipped, and was about to ask Virgil to help flip Roman onto his stomach in order to have better access to his back, when he saw more of those strange feathers.

“Virgil?” He looked toward the man in question.

The purple clad man noticed the feathers, alright. But he didn’t have time to wonder why Roman was keeping bird leafs in his jacket. “Help me flip him over,” he asked Patton, who nodded and set down the scissors.

Apparently Virgil DID have time to concern himself with the feathers in his friend’s jacket, seeing as those feathers were connected to said friend.“...I guess we know what he was hiding,” Patton chuckled.

This was the moment Logan decided to burst into the room carrying a multitude of heating elements. “I acquired some heat packs, as well as the rice sacks you place in the microwa-“ he stopped short, noticing the large bird wings attached to Roman’s upper back. “...I’m not even going to ask,” he stated. And set down the electronic heat packs, before taking the others into the kitchen.

Roman was... confused, to say the least. The pain has lessened to the point where he could think again, but the others had seen his wings, hadn’t they? Why weren’t they disgusted? He-he thought-

“Roman, kiddo,” Patton said to the winged side, “how are you holding up?”

Roman started tearing up, but he refused to cry, lest Patton think he was in more pain then he was, “I-it still hurts, but not as much,” he admitted, a small smile (or grimace, that too) gracing his features.

Patton nodded and leaned down to pick up one of the heat packs, which he plugged in to a nearby outlet. “I have a heat pack, do you think I could put it at the base of your wings?” He asked.

Roman nodded, and Patton placed the device on his back. Almost instantly the pain lessened. It was still there, but Roman felt like he could breathe again. Logan walked in and wordlessly handed the now warm heating packs to Patton, before sitting on the ground in front of the couch next to him. Patton held up a heating pack, gently placing it near the bottom of the wing base.

“So...” Virgil started, awkwardly, “This is what you’ve been hiding?” Some of his panic from earlier was slipping into his voice. Roman grabbed his hand from where he laid on the couch, which to be fair, was a little awkward, but Roman wanted to comfort Patton’s dead gay son.

“Yeah,” Roman replies breathlessly, rubbing his thumb over Virgil’s knuckles. No one spoke for a while.

Logan was the one to break the silence, “How long?”

Roman replied simply, “since we were eight,” he looked down at the ground and stopped rubbing Virgil’s knuckles.

“You didn’t need to,” Roman perked up when he heard Logan speak. “What do you mean?” He questioned.

“You did not need to hide this from us,” Logan assured, “These are beautiful. I have no idea why you would want to keep them hidden” he answered honestly.

Roman looked back down at the ground, feeling Virgil giving his hand reassuring squeezes. “Because... because I was scared,” he admitted, “I was scared you would think they were weird- think IM weird,” he felt Patton’s hand on his shoulder.

“We would never,”

No more words needed to be said. Roman looked into Patton’s eyes and knew he was telling the truth. These were his friends. His family. They care about him. They won’t reject him. They aren’t going to leave him. Remus was right. Roman started to tear up a little.

“Thanks, padre,” his voice shook a little, bit one said anything about it, “can you help me sit up?”

Patton nodded, before grabbing his shoulders and sitting him up so that his wings were spread out in a way that would not hurt them further. There was some pleasant conversation between the winged side and his companions. Roman started to forget about the ache in his shoulder blades.

“I’m going to need to study your wings, Roman,” stayed Logan, “I want to see how they work in the air,”.

Roman grinned, “sure, I’d be happy to,”. He felt content sitting with his friends. Maybe he should have reveled his wings sooner.

“Roman?” Roman turned to look in the direction of the noise, “Why is it that you have wings?” asked Virgil.

Roman chuckled before answering,

”What child doesn’t wish to fly?”

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