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scoundrels-in-love · 9 months

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3 8 15 18 20 27 45 54 55 56 58 61 for the writer questions thing :3:3:3 <3<3<3

Hi loooove, thank you so much for asking. *cracks knuckles*

3. Describe the creative process of writing a chapter/fic An idea - ??nfjnidfjgnf??SF?FD?/???? - oh god, there's typo in the published version

It's... unfortunately not too far from genuine truth. Most of my writing is done in parts of daydreaming it up at work, before sleep, babbling to my friends about it and then wallowing when I actually need to put the words I already came up with on 'paper'. Often I overthink little details too much along the way, enough to get stuck.

8. Do you prefer the beginning, middle, or end of a story?

I am probably bad writer because I don't really view my stories in these segments, I don't plan the arcs and the build up with conscious awareness of storytelling as a method. I just go with the natural swell of emotions and events. The starting and closing lines are always hard, but that's all I define as beginning or end of story. Yes, I do worry if the closing part is satisfying and tells what I intended to, of course, but there's no strict divides in my head.

15. How do you write smut scenes? Do you get very visual or detailed? How important is it to be realistic?

I am writing about werewolves, plant genitalia and what borders as tentacle porn. Realistic is... Not really an option. Though I try to at least somewhat figure out what is physically potentially possible with their size differences, body builds and so forth. Sidenote, I can be picky about words I use in my smut, some I just don't think I'll end up using.

I don't have much of visual imagination or any interest in geting visual references for this that isn't like, fanart, so it's interesting exercise writing something that actually comes across as smut and could potentially be hot. I think I don't manage to convey it enough, but lot of what structures my smut is how characters feel about it, the specific acts and people involved in them. Or what they want the other characters to feel.

I am glad that several people have said that it's tangible these characters care from each other even on my purely smut writing, that gives me hope I am doing something right.

18. Do you title your fics before, during, or after the writing process? How do you come up with titles?

I used to be borderline physically unable to write a fic until I had a title for it. Same as I needed a name for an OC. As if it was the baseline establishing everything, backbone of it. Over the pauses I've taken in my writing, this has gone away and I often leave the title as the last thing to work on, along with summary. Unless the piece is inspired by a song or poem, then that is one of the first things I do, still.

I almost always use lines from songs, sometimes it's genuinely a hassle these days to find one that fits the fic, the vibe I want to convey. I dream of being the face on your page (I want to hold you forever, I want a taste of the Good Life) took several fucking hours, I was driving myself and my sibling up the wall with it.

20. Have you noticed any patterns in your fics? Words/expressions that appear a lot, themes, common settings, etc?

In Trigun, I feel a little limited in setting, because most things will either take place in saloon/bar, in the desert often localized around a car and maybe Meryl's apartment. At least most of the stuff I've written so far, since I've not been ambitious with tackling Ship 3 or many AUs yet. So, the repetition in that is partially from what I'm writing for. I do know I have soft spot of times where one character ends up inviting the other into their space - sometimes as simple as a hug and often, into their apartment, living space. Especially when there are feelings attached to it being potentially theirs or having been theirs. This follows through from previous fandom(s).

Like I joked previously, it seems one of Rainy's fic bingo slots could be 'a character cries' - I've never written crying so often as I do for Trigun, but it doesn't. Entirely feel out of character or misplaced, somehow. There's lot of traumatic events, all the time, that I end up touching in my writing.

Grief, overall, is definitely a theme. Not just people, but possibilities, too. A chance at happiness. At peace. Yearning for something kinder, better, sweeter. For each other. I ironically don't think I've earned my title of 'rated E for Extreme Yearning' in Trigun yet, but it used to be my brand.

I definitely use deliberate repetitions for sentences.

I use words like smithereens, curdle, hoard, abyss, stone/rock in chest and the like quite a bit. Other than that, I'd actually love to hear what my readers have noticed, I am sure there's more than that!

27. What is your most and least favorite part of writing?

I love, love coming up with new ideas, excitedly talking with people about plots, character behaviors, just playing out little snippets among friends. It's by far the best and easiest part for me, I can spend days doing just that.

The writing itself... Oh, that can be torture. Like extracting words one by one by help of world's cruelest dentist. When it goes well, I love it and get a high like I very rarely do, but often, it's just. The Worst.

45. Do you want to break your readers‘ heart or make them laugh?

I am not a funny person - at least not the sort of funny that translates well into fiction. I have had few funnier stories in previous fandoms, or at least parts that have funny adjacent lines and when people have enjoyed them and said it made them laugh, I treasure that. But it's not a goal I set out to have.

Also not breaking anyone's heart, despite what it seems. I want to provide catharsis, for myself and for reader if possible, and for me that is usually getting to the bottom of the painful and then exploring way back up or at least showing that there is one (eg. think Disconnect). I am not much of one for angst without happy ending, there's so much misery in life, mine included, that never has one, that I want to imagine and create one where I can.

Though if I make a friend cry... It is a notch in my mental post, not going to lie. Makes me feel like I managed to write genuinely.

54. What’s your favorite part about the fanfiction writing process?

Plotting, babbling, excited screaming with friends, for sure. Although very specific to fanfiction itself is seeing how to pick apart the world, the characters, transpose them into different situations, AUs, and make them still them. I love working out what makes them tick, what defines them and the relationships they have with each other.

55. Of the characters you write for, which is your favorite? Has that choice been swayed at all by your followers/readers’ reactions to certain ones?

I really enjoyed writing both Brienne and Jaime from my previous fandom, I found it satisfying when I could manage to create my own brand of Jaime's sarcastic, self-depreciating humor, the way he'd say one thing and mean another and sometimes put so much of him suddenly in it that people couldn't accept it easily. And Brienne was lesson in restraint - I wonder how I would write her now that I've allowed myself to... Well, more openly project my neurodivergency and depression onto characters. Write what I do know, not just reflection of what I think people are like from other people's writing.

Which is something I've been doing with Meryl. She is by no means me, or my self-insert into canon, but in the process of trying to understand her, I ended up allowing myself to give her some likeness to my aspects, to how I see and experience the world. And then it expanded to Vash and Wolfwood as well.

That'd be more physical descriptions of grounding via scratching when crying, Meryl's struggle of spoken words versus written ones, them all being aspec and struggling with understanding/being overwhelmed by emotions and attraction.

But back to who I enjoy writing the most - I really love writing Meryl and Wolfwood, though I always fear I am not getting Wolfwood's inner conflict, all the Christian stuff, right. I feel like he has to be more than I manage to write him as. More fucked up, more intense, more soft at his underbelly, more everything.

This is why Vash is lower on my enjoyment scale, too. I feel like he ought to sound and work more differently, being the hyper aware, hyper capable and at the same time, sometimes so silly, person he is. I enjoy writing him being perceived, but writing his POV can be very stressful for me, especially in situations where his competency and intelligence actually needs to be portrayed convincingly. /side eyes Love lives chapter 2

That aside, no it's not really been swayed by reader's reaction, though it has given me confidence, like when someone says I have given them Meryl centric writing they've been looking for.

56. What’s something about your writing that you pride yourself on?

Pride is a strong word, but I have ended up feeling close to pride for the way I draw comparisons, create similes, about or through emotions, use of nature metaphors and the like. I think it stems from my native language and the sort of things I grew up reading and listening to, but it is something I don't shy away from in fear of being too flowery. Not anymore. It's just how I write, how I see world and feel things and I don't want to go through process of censoring it.

58. What part of the writing process do you enjoy the most? (Brainstorming, outlining, writing, editing, etc)

Brainstorming >>>> writing > outlining/editing

Outlining often makes me trip up over small details that I suddenly feel are as huge as as infinite wall and I generally don't outline more than loosely in my head, I get to meat of writing directly in my thoughts. Editing has habit of tiring me out when I have been struggling with some sentence and rewritten it like 5 times already.

61. Why do you continue writing fics?

It's a question I ask myself often. And when I don't have an answer, I fall off the face of earth and cease writing.

I think, in truth, I write, at least past the point of thinking about it in privacy of my own mind, for community, for people. It is not the right reason to write, it has burned me many times when I don't get the engagement I crave or I feel like specific person I had in mind isn't really keen on what I created, but it is mine.

Beyond that, I want to explore feelings, want to find, and if possible, give some catharsis or comfort. Every time someone tells me my writing resonated with them, they felt seen or heard through it, maybe it comforted them, I feel like the effort to write was worth it. So, I guess the short answer is: Feelings. Humanity. Connection. The fictional ones and the ones we create through fiction.

Send me fanfic writer ask?<3

#ask games answered #lovely people #ladymaliwan #sent on a cloud

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whogavemeapen · 1 year

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Constellations and Conversation

@flashfictionfridayofficial for the prompt this fine friday

First bit of writing for a new wip currently titled, wait for it:

Greenhouse

Creative, I know.

A little context: Oleander is nb (as most of my protags are lol) and uses he/she/they pronouns, and is more necrobotany magic focused, and Angie is a mermaid/merfolk with light-type powers

---

When Oleander was young, young enough to go by a different name, they fell in love with the stars. He was young and idealistic, and the stars were so pretty, and bright, and she found an escape in them, because the stars and constellations don’t care about how weird you are. They’re stars. They’re just there. And there was so much history and myth and story behind each and every little light. How could they not love them?

But at some point, Oleander grew up, and suddenly the stars were too pretty, and too bright, too perfect for someone like him, and that might have been the point when she planted her feet into the ground. Because, yeah, okay, this world is weird, and inconsistent, and a little scuffed up and fractured, and, sure, there might be some parts that are unusable and awful, but so were they.

He wanted to forget the stars and the constellations and the stories.

Because Oleander wasn’t that innocent, far too happy and far too whole little kid anymore.

They wanted to forget.

And yet.

Oleander never did.

Which somehow led to them lying on the roof staring at the stars, stuck in their own head. They were so different from back home. He can’t see the Hunter, the Protector. It had always been their favorite, a constant. It was... unsettling, to not see it. And it wasn’t a big change, but it still made something in their chest tighten uncomfortably with the feeling of not belonging. He didn’t know why or how a constellation got so tied to their feeling of belonging, but even then: he hadn’t really belonged back home. Nor with their mentor, in the city. If they never really belonged, why could a missing constellation bring that feeling about?

She was so lost in thought, they didn’t even notice Angie joining them on the roof. That is, until she spoke.

“You can see the Angelfish from here,” she said, in her usual soothing tone, though it still startled Oleander, “I was named after them, you know.”

He didn’t really have anything to say in response, what with the lost in thought and trying not to show their startle, but Angie seemed to take it in stride. She started talking almost absent-mindedly about the stars.

“Merfolk were the first to use the stars as navigation. Our eyes are so sensitive, they capture light so easily, and there’s no place with clearer skies.” She blinked her eyes at them for emphasis, and maybe it was because of their sensitivity, but Oleander could see the starry sky reflected in them, “I grew up believing that the stars were the gods way of showing us they cared and that they wanted to aid us. And then I met humans. And you guys attached stories to constellations. Stories! Like your Hunter, who was killed by a resentful brother of a friend, who then-”

“Raised his soul and placed him in the night sky, to continue his hunt,” Oleander interrupted, without thinking, “He became the protector of the night skies, hunting all the beasts who try to invade it. I miss seeing him, he doesn't show up in this part of the sky”

Angie was kind enough not to mention the heartsick tone of their last statement. Or to comment on the interruption.

“You know the stories? Pardon my assumption, but I did not take you for an astronomer.”

“I’m not. Just know the stories.”

“It doesn’t really seem to fit your, how would you say, ‘green plant, nature vibe’.”

“What can I say: the sun is also a star.”

“I don’t see how those are related.”

As Oleander launched into an explanation as to how plants produce energy (or glucose) through a process called photosynthesis, by absorbing sunlight, out of the corner of her eye she saw the star-like freckles on Angie’s arm glow.

In the shape of a constellation.

In the shape of the Hunter.

It was small, and Angie probably didn’t know what it meant to him, but that something tight in their chest settled.

Just a bit.

But enough.

---

Words written: 687

#greenhouse #writing #writing prompts #flash fic friday

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zackcollins · 2 years

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oughta settle down || zack collins

Author’s Note: Yes, it’s been two months since I’ve posted a fic. I am sorry for that. I’ve just been busy having a mental breakdown about the way Zack is being jerked around this season worse than Reese McGuire was in that parking lot. Don’t get attached to the back up of the back up guys. It doesn’t go well. Anyways. GIF credit to me, myself, and I.

Warnings: In m opinion, nothing. But it’s about a pregnancy reveal and I know some people don’t vibe with that so I’ll warn about it just to be safe. Feel free to tell me if I missed anything!

Word Count: 1.5k+

Title: Broadway Girls by Lil Durk & Morgan Wallen (his walk-up song LOL)

Additional: I know the premise is a pregnancy reveal but the reader can be read as gender-neutral! I made the language vague because I know that not everyone that can and wants to be pregnant is feminine. This blog is trans inclusive because this blogger is non-binary. Hope that’s okay with everyone! most of all, enjoy this! and feedback is welcomed and appreciated!

You were laid out on your bed feeling rather unpleasant. Your stomach was twisting violently and making you feel bloated. The nerves and muscles of your lower back were alight with pain that you didn’t even think possible before today. The muscles in your chest felt tender, almost as if someone had grabbed them and started squeezing as hard as they could. You knew exactly what the issue was and had for the last week. The only problem was that your boyfriend, Zack, didn’t know. You hadn’t managed to garner the courage to tell him as of yet. There wasn’t any particular reason for that; you weren’t necessarily scared of how he’d react or anything. You just hadn’t found the right moment to tell him. And, because of that, you had been stressed to the nines. That stress was making the nausea, the back pain, and the tender chest ten times worse. It was so bad it was making you feel like you had been run over with a fucking Zamboni like that one goalie from your boyfriend’s favourite hockey team had been by his tandem partner a bunch of years ago.

“Are you okay, babe?” You uncurled yourself and looked in the direction the voice had come from. Like you had expected, your aforementioned boyfriend, Zack, was standing in the doorway of the en suite. He had a towel around his waist, though he didn’t appear to be wet. “You look a little uncomfortable.”

Sighing, you gingerly sat up on the bed so that you could get a better angle to look at Zack. “Not… not really. I think I have the flu.” You didn’t feel that great lying to him but you didn’t want to break the news to him this way either.

To try to sell your point, you broke out in a fake coughing fit and did your best to make it convincing. When you were done, you looked at Zack. He seemed to look genuinely concerned; that made you let out a discreet sigh of relief.

After you wiped away the tears that had accumulated in your eyes from the forced coughing, you looked at Zack again. You saw that your boyfriend was leaned against the en suite door frame and had his arms crossed over his chest. You saw the towel around Zack’s waist slide down a little; Zack quickly reached down and tugged it back into position, tucking it in on itself a little more tightly when he was done.

You scoffed, which you turned into a couple more fake coughs to further sell your flu agenda. When you regained your composure, you rolled your eyes at Zack. “I literally saw you naked last night, Zachary.”

“I know but being horny when you’re sick will make you feel worse,” Zack deadpanned as he gave you a pointed look. “And how many damn times do I have to tell you not to call me that, jackass?”

You went to raise your hands in surrender but you quickly dropped them to your abdomen when you felt something lurch against it. You inhaled and exhaled a couple of times to try and counteract the sudden uneasy feeling that had caused you. All that succeeded in doing was causing another lurch, this time accompanied by a burst of nausea.

You looked at Zack with a pained expression as you laid back on the bed and curled in on yourself. You wanted the pain to stop because it was driving you bananas. Then, on the other hand, you didn’t want the pain to stop because you knew if you toughed it out, the end result would be worth it. The end result was something you and Zack had been wanting for the better part of the last two years. The fact that it was finally happening made you break down at the doctor’s office when your doctor told you. You were excited for this; beyond excited, actually because you were so ready for this. You were also scared. Scared because was anyone truly ready for something like this? What if you were terrible at the job? What if Zack was terrible? What if something went wrong and your dream was crushed before it even started? There were a lot of negative thoughts running through your mind about this and they were all causing you unneeded stress. So much unneeded stress that you were afraid that it wasn’t healthy.

You had been so lost in your thoughts that you barely felt it when the bed dipped next to you under the weight of something heavy. Turning your head, you saw that Zack was sitting behind your back on his knees. He looked down at you and motioned his finger along your side. Knowing what your boyfriend meant, you nodded. Zack smiled as he laid himself on the bed and slotted himself against your back. You hummed when you felt the warmth of Zack’s body against your frigid skin.

“Holy shit,” Zack said into the base of your skull. “You feel like a fucking freezer, babe.”

You chuckled, though you turned it into another coughing fit to keep up with the rouse. Zack soothingly ran his hand along the side of your chest; you used that soft, gentle sensation as an excuse to end the fake coughing fit sooner that you had intended to. You were beyond grateful for that because your lungs were actually starting to hurt from all the forced coughing you had been doing.

Once you had regained your composure, you snuggled back against Zack’s body. “And you feel like a fucking furnace. It’s helping with my back aches. Here.” You took Zack’s hands and placed them over your abdomen. Much like he had expected, his boyfriend’s hands felt tepid against your frigid skin. The tightness of your abdomen muscles started to subside as Zack carefully ran his hands along the skin. You grunted at the feeling, dropping your head back against Zack’s chest. “That… holy fuck. Your hands feel amazing. My stomach doesn’t feel as tight or nauseous anymore.”

Zack pressed a kiss to your temple as he moved his hands up to your chest. He cupped one side of your chest in each hand, gently massaging each side as he did. You let out a soft moan because Zack had released some of the tension in your chest muscles by doing that. Zack pressed another kiss to your temple as he continued to massage your chest. And, the longer he went about massaging it, the more relaxed you were starting to feel.

Your eyes were starting to feel heavy and you even yawned once. Zack pressed a kiss to the nape of your neck as he shifted his hands away from your chest and brought one back down to your abdomen. He took the other hand and gently began stroking your hip. You hummed softly at the dual sensations as your eyes suddenly felt heavier than they had been a moment ago.

“That feels amazing, babe,” you said, voice thick with tiredness. “I feel a lot less sore now. Keep going.”

You yawned again as you wiggled against Zack to get more comfortable. Zack hummed as he started massaging your scalp. He also started drumming his fingers against your abdomen. You felt your eyes inching closer and closer to sleep the longer your boyfriend went about what he was doing. You also felt completely relaxed and free from all the pain you had been experiencing all day. Of course, that’s when you had you feel something lurch against your abdomen. You felt Zack freeze his movements and intake a shaky breath.

“Am I crazy?” Zack asked, audibly swallowing. “Or did I just feel something kick my hand?”

“I don’t actually have the flu,” you replied hoping Zack understood what you were getting at.

“There’s a mini Collins in there?” Zack sniffled a couple times as he poked his finger just under your belly button.

You chuckled as you reached your hand back and patted your boyfriend’s hip.

“What’s your defensive position on the diamond?”

“Catcher...?” Zack sounded more like he was asking than telling you that.

“Don’t sound so sure of yourself next time. Someone might think you have a god complex, damn.” You sighed and pinched the bridge of you noise. “The number, you airhead.”

“Oh. Two,” Zack said, embarrassment evident in his voice. “But what does that have to do with anything?”

“You said there was a mini Collins inside me...”

“Then you as—”

Zack jolted backwards as if you had burned him. It was not two seconds later that he turned you around so that the two of you were face to face. You smirked when you noticed that he was smiling like an idiot and looked about three seconds from a nervous breakdown.

“Two mini Collinses in there?” Zack looked down at your abdomen and poked his finger just under your belly button again. When he looked back up at you, you saw that he had a couple stray tears leaking from the corners of his eyes. “Oh my god. Leave it to us to get twins after being unsuccessful for almost two years.”

You chuckled before you moved closer on the bed and wrapped Zack in a hug. You dropped your head against his shoulder and smiled.

“I love you, Zachary. And you’ll be the best father ever to our twins.”

“Stop calling me that! But I love you too, jackass. More than I can ever put into words.”

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sir-yeehaw-paws · 1 year

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WIP Tag Meme Thingymabobber Post the document titles in your WIP folder (no matter how silly or non-descriptive they may seem) and let people send you asks about the title that intrigues them most! Provide a snippet or further elaboration to askers!

I have to cheat a bit here as these have no titles at present and are currently like..in document folders with no titles. So instead you get further details of my ideas. Send asks if you like or want to know more of course :D

Tagging: Steal with abandon I never wanna leave people out askdjnsajksd

Tagged by @theowlseye Because I do indeed have THINGS but those THINGS are not at all connected whatsoever! However I can tell you that I have:

Parasite AU Verse

My OC Ocelot Unit I’ve been building up

General Fic Ideas Like:

That long spiraling Venom fic that is eventually going to get off the ground.

Ocelot getting badly injured and visiting the Sorrow’s river purgatory. But his is uhm, well pretty full, and long. He can hear the Sorrow as he moves around, but not see him, not at first.

For some reason I’ve really wanted to write the ‘fight we did not see’ between Olga and Snake in MGS2 on Big Shell.

Further Details Below Cut

Here’s my Ocelot Unit Thus Far (And yes they’re all queer b/c I said so)

Fawning Lion is one of the best shots (long range, close range,) he's kinda scrawny, very shy. Youngest

Yowling Tiger is twice his size. She's very fit and agile. Better with knives than guns.

Angry Panther is the oldest (four years older than Ocelot). He's one of the OG and kinda bolder as a result. Large. Wide.

Growling Cougar does a bit too much weed but he's the best at CQC and the best spy of the unit next to Ocelot himself.

Raging Snow Leopard is kinda chill, a bit underweight. But he's super fast and can be in an out with intel in ten minutes, or less. His best time is one minute eight seconds. Ocelot almost framed it.

Cheering Cheetah is the cleverest. She's the most varied in skills and can sweet talk her way out of anything, and then stab you in the back for the trouble.

Irate Jaguar is the other OG unit member. He's the third eldest of the lot and aged a bit too hard. He probably drank too much at one point, the wrinkles are permanent. When Panther isn't challenging Ocelot it'll be him, but he's loyal to a fault.

Casual Lynx kinda just likes to vibe, and take things apart to get information, then put them back together.

Lion has gotten the most attention when I’ve explored things thus far and I’ve not yet decided on things like hair colour, skin tone, etc etc but at *present* this is how I’ve got them set up. They’re a work in progress. Ocelot hand-picks them all, and of course some can be added if he wants them with him. Nobody understood why he picked Lion at first, but he knew what he saw and what he saw was potential.

The Parasite AU

The long and short of this is Kaz being second-hand exposed to the parasites vs having direct therapy. Hence why I headcanoned his being under the skin spider webbing vs a face mask. I also believe that Kaz’s parasites eventually infected a tiny bit of others, depending on how much Kaz either knows or likes them *and the parasites made the choice more than Kaz, feeding off his subconscious.* Ocelot has some in his neck, and Venom’s got some that embedded where his prosthetic would attach. The parasites protect them and Venom gets a little bit of a strength boost as a result. Kaz can also communicate on that level with Quiet and Code Talker, respectively.

There’s far more coming, it’s a wholeeeee thing I’ve got going on. But I’ve established the parasite’s having some sort of ‘mind of their own’ not to be mistaken for true conscious, mind.

And that’s about it for now. I definitely have more but this is where I’ve started fleshing things out, so to speak.

Thank you for tagging me! :D This is a good excuse to post my stuff with further background without making a weird “how do I describe this’ in another fic.

#ask games #tag games #fanfic asks #fanfic tag games #nate does writing

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shoppncarticles · 2 years

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The Pikachu Family

Here it is, everybody. The big cheese himself, the face of all of Pokemon, Pikachu.

Honestly, it’s pretty easy to see why Pikachu was chosen as the series’s prime example of a Pocket Monster, resembling a real-world animal but still having fantastical, easy to read elements added to its body, such as its red cheeks and lightning-bolt tail. Apparently, Pikachu was chosen as the mascot very close to the release of the first games, and was never intended to be the icon of a worldwide phenomenon it ended up being.

But what do I think about Pikachu? Well, I can’t deny that Pikachu has a fitting, marketable mascot feel to it. It has a pleasing color palette too, really making it feel like a natural sort of electrical monster, being primarily yellow and brown.

Pikachu is also titled as the Mouse Pokemon, but I’ll admit that I don’t really see it. Its longer, thinner ears and plush-like body shape doesn’t communicate that well. Its mostly solid body color, without any fur detail, also doesn’t communicate the furry texture it's supposed to have either. None of this is meant to say Pikachu is a bad design, it's recognizable for a reason of course, but not one that I’m super big on.

If you didn’t know, there’s a pretty large group of people who prefer Pikachu’s earlier, initial design from the series, compared to the sort of stylistic evolution its taken over the past 20-odd years. I’d put myself in the same camp, this Pikachu is much more appealing than the advertising mascot we’ve got nowadays. The rounder, smaller body and longer tail give it a much more rodent-like feeling while still keeping it a distinct fantasy creature.

This isn’t controversial to say, is it?? There’s just something about the earlier drawings of Pikachu that make it have a more natural, mischievous vibe than its modern counterpart. If this was the Pikachu we had for a majority of the series’ life, maybe I’d be a little fonder of the little yellow rat. As it stands, though, I’d just mark Pika as alright.

Of course, Pikachu would be spoiled with a handful or two of extraneous forms and, in this case, costumes, just to cement that it was a popular creature you ought to be paying attention to.

The first of these would be Cosplay Pikachu, a unique Pikachu that would be given to players in the remakes of the generation 3 games, Omega Ruby and Alpha Sapphire. Due to the emphasis on the Contest minigames featured there, these Pikachu costumes focused on one of each Contest type.

However, due to Contests not really appearing after said games, Cosplay Pikachu would too be locked exclusively to the ORAS games. I don’t find them that appealing, either, frankly. I’m not going to chastise a Pokemon just for having clothes be a part of its design, but these certainly are just Pikachu in what amounts to cute pet outfits, isn’t it? If that was something you could do with any of your Pokemon, that’d be just fine, but it’s only darling beloved Pikachu who’s allowed to put jackets and skirts on. I see how it is.

You could also receive Pikachu wearing different hats Ash wore in the anime, and just like the anime, you can’t evolve it. Alright.

Pikachu would also receive a Gigatamax form, giving it a rounder body and elongated tail similar to its original artwork. It’s a cool sentiment, but still something tied to a temporary superpower feature, and likely locked to one pair of games in the series. I can’t bring myself to get too attached to it.

The most amusing thing about it though is that Pikachu proudly shouts “PEE” whenever it achieves its Gigantamax form.

Score: 2.5/5

Maybe I’m just burnt out on Pikachu due to having it be the face of the franchise for so long. That’s only a problem when there’s so many other options, though. Hardly anyone is going to say Mario is their favorite character to play as in Mario Kart, y’know?

Well, if he is, more power to you, honestly.

Lo and behold, though, Pikachu actually has an evolved form in Raichu! Why Raichu has almost never received the same amount of love as Pikachu is beyond me, you think they would’ve pushed Pikachu’s bigger, stronger form to the general public who wanted to see a beefier edge to the little mouse.

Raichu also, if you ask me, has a much more pleasing and interesting design than Pikachu. Its color palette is even more unified, relying mostly on orange and brown which blend well together, and yellow accents for highlights. Raichu also breaks up the solid color of its body with the markings on its hands, feet, and stomach. The uniquely shaped ears and thin tail that still has a lightning strike at the end of it also help to show that it's still a rodent.

In the early seasons of the anime, Raichu was often characterized as a meaner punk compared to Pikachu, which even gives it that little charming edge to it.

Raichu would also be bestowed a regional Alolan form over Pikachu, surprisingly! It may be more rounded and smoothed over than regular Raichu, but it reflects its more casual, laid-back island lifestyle than the average thunder rat. It even gains a Psychic typing, which it uses to hover on its own tail like a surfboard!

Alolan Raichu is even said to have an affinity for pancakes, which somehow spurred this divergent evolution. This thing is incredibly silly, but I can’t help but love its simple charm. Even something about its slightly different shade of orange is more appealing to the eye.

Score: 5/5

Raichu is a wonderful improvement over Pikachu. I’m glad that the Alolan form especially seems to have really grabbed fans, it’s definitely one of the series’ cuter final evolutions.

In the second generation, this younger, baby form of Pikachu would also appear, simply named Pichu. Pichu too has some smarter design traits than its more adolescent form, with its black accents having points instead of being straight lines. This, ever so slightly, helps show a sort of fur pattern, rather than a solid line of color on a plasticy body. The bigger, wider ears also help add to its mouselike charm.

Pichu even has a unique character trait as well, being so inexperienced with its own electrical powers that it often ends up zapping and harming itself more than the enemy when it tries attacking. This is even reflected in Smash Bros, where Pichu somehow made it in as a fighter as well. Funnily enough, when Super Smash Bros Ultimate first released, Pichu was considered one of the strongest fighters in the game, even outshining its older brother Pikachu! What a powerhouse!

Score: 3/5

Solid baby mouse.

[Gen 1 Archive]

#Pokemon #Pokemon Review #Pikachu #Cosplay Pikachu #Raichu #Alolan Raichu #Pichu #Gigantamax Pikachu

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adobe-outdesign · 3 years

Text

Reviews of All Scrapped Spaceword Betas

Exactly what it says in the title. This is also for my reference, as I might redesign some of these later for funsies.

I’m only including Pokemon that were 100% scrapped (we’re not here to argue what might have become what) and aren’t evos/pre-evos of existing Pokemon. Also, I’m using the English fan-translations for the names because I don’t speak Japanese.

Flambear/Volbear/Dynabear

Our original fire starter, and yeah, I can see why this was scrapped. For starters (heh), it looks more like a rodent that evolves into a lion than anything resembling a bear. And secondly... it doesn’t really have a clear focus, nor a memorable design. It’s just kind of a rodent-bear thing with flames tacked onto it.

The best Pokes usually have a "catch” to them, and these guys lack that. For example, this got replaced by Cyndaquil, which has the concept of flaming spikes that form out of its back. That’s memorable. This, well, isn’t.

Possible reason for being scrapped: Lack of focus/interesting design

Pokes to fill the void: Teddiursa and Ursaring are probably the closest in terms of being bears. Something about it also reminds me of Growlithe/Arcanine, probably because it’s a fluffy fire thing that evolves into a bigger fluffy fire thing with a mane and black markings.

Cruz/Aqua/Aquaria

This has the same problem as the Flambear line, just less extreme. It’s okay, being a little plesiosaur that evolves into a bigger plesiosaur, but it also lacks an interesting catch to it. The pearls are maybe something, but they’re not really emphasized, just kind of tacked on. Plus Dragonair kind of has the crystal neck ornaments on lock. And the horn. And the underbelly. And the water theme...

Whoops.

I definitely wouldn’t be opposed to a plesiosaur water starter in the future, but it would probably have to be completely redesigned.

Possible reason for being scrapped: Lack of focus/interesting design; too similar to Dragonair

Pokes to fill the void: Dragonair, as mentioned above. If you want a plesiosaur, Lapras is always a thing.

Putting the rest under the cut for length.

Sunmola1/Anchorage/Grotess

This is one of the most chaotic beta evolutions out there, aside from beta Girafarig. I can see the resemblance between Sunmola1 and Anchorage to some extent--counter-shaded blue fish with two fins and a short body--but the anchor part of the evolution comes out of nowhere. Then it sporadically turns into a gulper eel, which has nothing to do with the previous two evolutions at all.

I’ve heard some people suggest that Sunmola1 basically gets dragged into the depths and turns into a deep-sea creature due to its anchor, which is a fantastic idea. However, if that’s what they were going for here it’s not really clear, and I think it could be executed much better.

Individually, Sumola1 is a little plain. Not terrible, but I think they could do something more interesting with the little head thing. Anchorage is memorable, but there’s something very un-Pokemonish about it. I think it’s just the fact that it’s basically cut in half--I keep expecting the backsprite to show its organs or something. Grotess is also a bit too plain.

It’s also worth noting that at some point, this was the evolutionary line, which is more consistent but much less interesting (save for the middle evo’s eyes, which are pretty great).

Possible reason for being scrapped: Lack of evolutionary consistency; some designs plain or not very fitting for Pokemon

Pokes to fill the void: Alomomola is a sunfish Pokemon. Sharpedo is a shark crossed with an object, and Grotess almost certainly became Huntail and Gorebyss.

Rinring/Bellboyant

These two... are pretty good. They have a simple catch--black cats with bells--and the designs are nicely executed and memorable.

If I had one complaint, it’s that they maybe seems a tad unfocused in the backend of things. They’re dark types, but have a bunch of “cutesy” moves, and it’s not clear why’d they be dark apart from being black cats. They seem to have a magical girl vibe (Bellboyant looks a bit like Luna from Sailor Moon, which is probably not a coincidence), which also has nothing to do with the bells or the dark theme. I do think that the designs themselves are fine though, and that if you just focused on the sound concept a hair more you’d have a pretty great Pokemon.

Possible reason for being scrapped: Not entirely sure, these definitely would’ve been popular. Might’ve just been a balancing thing, or it lost the dev popularity contest.

Pokes to fill the void: Skitty kind of has the same vibe as Rinring. They also remind me a bit of the Meowth line, being cat Pokemon with metal attached to them. The Purrloin line takes over the “dark-type cat” aspect.

Bomseel

I’m torn on this one. On the one hand, it’s a very plain looking Pokemon. The idea of it balancing a fireball/bomb on its nose instead of a ball is clever and memorable enough... except that it’s dependent on it being on that pose. It can’t balance that 24/7, and once it stops all you’re left with is a plain sea lion with dark points.

However, it’s fire/water. The only fire/water we have right now is a legendary, so it would be sweet to have one that’s just a regular poke. So it’s not that the concept itself is bad, using a water-based animal and adding a fire type; it’s just more that the execution is lackluster. Give this guy a hook not related to the fireball and make the seal itself more interesting and I think you’d have something here.

Possible reason for being scrapped: Lack of interesting design

Pokes to fill the void: Volcanion is our only fire/water Pokemon for now. In terms of seals/sea lions with a circus theme, Popplio is a decent enough match.

Tigrette/Electiger

Someone at Gamefreak hates tigerballs, because this line was planned for Gen 1, scrapped, then planned for Gen 2 and scrapped again. Which is strange, because while it’s not the best design it’s not bad either. It’s very very cute, and could definitely find an audience.

However, I’m not really sure what the premise is here. If it’s based on tiger clay bells, then it doesn’t really play into the bell theme much at all. And if it’s not... why is it so round? It’s not that the roundness is bad, but it would usually form the hook for this Pokemon, like it collects static electricity in its fur that makes it puff out or something. Maybe some dex descriptions would’ve made this clearer, who knows.

Also, Electiger is literally the exact same design as Tigrette, just bigger. It would either need a completely new final evolution or would need to show up as a single evo.

While that sounds harsh, I do really like this design. Fix the evo, figure out/build on the hook of it being round or bell like, and maybe refine the markings a touch and it would be pretty perfect.

Possible reason for being scrapped: Not sure. Might’ve been too similar to Pikachu (both being yellow round electric type Pokemon with zig-zag tails, and og fat Pikachu was also very round). The need to rework the evolution also might’ve turned GameFreak off of it.

Pokes to fill the void: Spheal and Rowlet are both pleasantly round. Pikachu is cute and electric themed in a similar way. In terms of tigers, Raikou is also electric-type. The exact way the stripes are done here is also very similar to Litten.

Kurstraw/Pangshi

GameFreak. GameFreak, you are telling me that we almost had a voodoo-doll Pokemon based off of Ushi-no-Toki-Mairi that evolves into a fucking jiangshi panda?? You are killing me here.

A few interesting things to note here:

Kurstraw evolves at level 1. How? Why? No idea. It could just be a placeholder, but...

The fact that Kurstraw was set to have Curse as its signature move (then called “nail”) and that it only learned this move at level 100 makes it evolving at level 1 seem intentional.

To make things more confusing, it almost seems like (and this is speculation on my part) GameFreak’s intention was to encourage players to not evolve this thing. Stats are comparable, Kurstraw only gets its signature move if you level it up to where it can’t evolve, and Kurstraw has the better moveset (getting frigging destiny bond at lv. 16, while Pangshi gets... splash (which. makes more sense when you consider it’s called “hop” in Japan but it’s still useless). If that was what they were aiming for, then that’s a really unique mechanic that would really make this poke stand out.

Design wise, Kurstraw is... well, it’s a doll with a nail rammed through it. Nothing wrong with that, but it’s not very Pokemon-ish. Meanwhile, Pangshi is maybe a little too much like a Jianshi rather than being reminiscent of one, right down to the little hat. The pose, fangs, and panda colors (which resemble Jiangshi mandarin robes) are more than enough to get the hook across.

What I really love about these two are the expressions. They are just like, so dissonantly happy. Kurstraw is literally like

and Pangshi has the dead-eyed thousand-yard stare of Espurr, except unlike Espurr it looks completely and utter deranged. It looks like if this Pokemon ended up in Mystery Dungeon, it would respond to every question with “my favorite color is blood”. Amazing.

Possible reason for being scrapped: I think these two might’ve been scrapped just because they were too scary. I mean, it’s a voodoo doll impaled on a giant nail that evolves into a literal actual corpse. The implied violence was probably just a bit much for GameFreak.

The reason I think this is, beside the fact that they have fairly solid designs, good hooks, and all of their stats and moves in place, most beta Pokemon have had their premises revisited at some point. But we’ve really never gotten a voodoo doll Pokemon since this, and we definitely haven’t gotten any jiangshi Pokemon either, which suggests the problem lied in the very concept rather than the execution.

Pokes to fill the void: People say that Kurstraw was reworked into Banette, but if anyone Pokemon resembles it to be, it would actually be Mimikyu. They both have cloth bodies with drawn-on smiley faces that resemble something cuter than them and they both want to curse you for existing.

For Pangshi... well, there’s Pancham if you’re looking for tiny pandas. If you’re after a jiangshi though, you’re out of luck.

Wolfman/Warwolf

This Pokemon has a great hook. I mean, a Pokemon that wears a pelt that transforms it into a werewolf? Hell yeah. Not to mention it might be a reference to an obscure Nordic tale about people donning wolf pelts to turn into wolves for ten days.

Design wise, it... well, Wolfman looks almost exactly like Venonat. I’m not the only one who sees this, right?

That aside, I think the idea could be played up a little more. Wolfman is fine, save for its Venonat-ishness, but Warwolf doesn’t do much for me, basically just being a larger version with claws and fangs. If the idea is that it turns into a werewolf by wearing the pelt, what if its evolution looked somewhat like a wolf? Or better yet, the actually body of the thing changes to fill the wolf skin more, so it looks like its a part of it? That would really elevate this Pokemon to a new level.

Possible reason for being scrapped: I’d guess that it’s the same problem as Kurstraw and Pangshi--too scary. I mean, that is a dead pelt of some kind, which means that it killed and skinned some kind of Pokemon, and that’s not getting into questions of what Pokemon they got that from.

It’s also worth noting that when we did finally get a werewolf Pokemon via Lycanroc, it was minus the pelt concept.

Pokes to fill the void: Lycanroc as our werewolf Pokemon. In terms of design, Venonat is very similar as noted above. And something about it really reminds me of Snorunt, being little critters with glowing eyes that wear a cloak of some kind and live in the cold (this line was ice-type).

#pokemon #pkmn #beta pokemon #pokemon gold and silver #pokemon gen 2 #outdesign posts things #god this ended up a lot longer than I intended it to #anyway I hope you enjoyed me rambling about concept art for 2k words

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everlune-evotide · 2 years

Text

I’d like to share a piece I was randomly inspired to write after seeing an Amazon ad. It’s probably canon, but I have no idea if it’s going to make it into the book, of which the new working title is “Pieces” (doubt it will because I would time this during the summer before the events of the book). It’s about a group of broken teens that split after a big, unknown event that the writer has to ’piece’ together as Jasper tries to put the ‘pieces’ of her friends back together.

I hope it makes sense but there is a lack of context! also I’m rusty af lol

Content Warning: depression, vague reference of wanting to commit suicide

——

“I got you something.”

Jerecho peeled back the safe confines of his comforter, only lowering it past his bird’s nest of white hair, and narrowed green eyes surrounded by dark circles. Even though the curtains were drawn, the late afternoon sun streamed through his window and burned his retinas.

Jasper brought out a smiling, pastel green octopus plush from behind her back with a grin, presenting it to him in both her cupped hands.

“You got me a stuffed animal.” Why couldn’t she have gotten him something useful? Like food loaded with preservatives? Or a noose?

She brought it closer, encouraging him to take it, and he accepted it with annoyed reluctance.

“It glows in the dark. Ghostly vibes. Turn it inside out.”

He furrowed his brow and did as she asked so she’d go away and spread her gross kindness and blinding personality elsewhere. On the inside—now the outside? Whatever—the octopus was black with bright green angry eyes.

He refused the inclination to give Jasper exactly what he knew she wanted—use the dumb thing to express his displeasure. But, he did consider throwing it back at her face.

“The eyes glow too,” she said with a proud grin. “Now you can express your emotions without speaking.”

“Ah, yes, the only two emotions. Cute happy and cute angry.”

“Two emotions fitting of you.” She flushed.

He might not have noticed if the pink dusting her cheeks hadn’t given her away. “Are you flirting with me?”

Her flush deepened, but she held his gaze. “Yes.”

He almost respected the sudden display of confidence so foreign of his shy friend, but he was busy abhorring the way his stomach dropped, and how he had to break eye contact to keep his sanity. Real smooth, Jerecho. Depression really makes you bring your A-game.

At least Jasper’s gaze dropped too. Some normalcy left in this world.

“A-anyway, it’s a conversation starter that doesn’t require you to talk when you’re too numb to.”

He rolled his eyes, holding the stupid thing out to her. “Jasp, this isn’t going to help me. Or you.”

She didn’t take it. “It will if you name him.”

Jerecho blinked. “What.”

“Name him,” she insisted. “Then you’ll grow an attachment to him and will feel obligated to use him.”

“That’s stupid.”

“Just do it.”

“Ugh.” He waved the plush carelessly as he shrugged. “I dunno. Danny Phantom?” He scoffed.

“That’s copyrighted.” She smirked, challenging him.

“Oh my fu—okay, fine. Phantom. Happy?”

Jasper finally took the plush from his hand—only to turn it inside out again, exposing the wide eyes and c-shaped grin. She smiled her own ridiculously proud smile, and nodded.

Echo stared, straining, and covered his head back up to hide the stupid grin that was forcing its way onto his face. “I hate you.” I hate that I love you.

“Was that a smile?” Jasper poked at the comforter cocoon.

“It was a grimace. I was grimacing because I have the absolute displeasure of being your friend.”

She kept jabbing at him. He squirmed, attempting to fight her off without leaving the safety of his comforter, but she was relentless, and he was ticklish.

Screw it, he thought, and vaulted up. Jasper squealed as he bear-hugged her and flung himself back down with her in tow.

A tickle-focused wrestling match later, the two were face to face, breathless and grinning.

“See? It worked.” He hated that it did.

“The octopus does nothing. I can’t even express when I’m hopelessly depressed. Only ‘angry’ when you inevitably shove your way into my depression.”

“See, I thought about that.” Jasper reached down into her hoodie pocket and brought out—

“You got me two?”

“Yes.” She flipped the light blue, happy side to reveal a darker shade of blue and a frown.

His best friend was the biggest dork in the universe. And if it didn’t drive him absolutely crazy with want, want that sliced through his sadness.

“You’re so dumb,” he said, to stave off the heavy pressure of “I love you” clawing it’s way up his chest.

The smile that she gave him—the one she reserved only for him, soft and loving and forgiving, too forgiving—told him that she heard it anyway.

“I know,” she said. And he heard the “I love you too” that she was too smart to say. He saw it in her deep blue eyes, and suddenly he was drowning and he couldn’t breathe. He didn’t deserve her, but he sure as hell wanted to kiss her with all that he had, with all that he was.

Too bad ‘all that he was’ was the reason he couldn’t kiss her.

He crashed into her, not in the way he wanted, but in the way he arguably needed, burying his face in her shoulder to keep from doing something they’d both regret. Pressure grew behind his eyes, pressure he fought hard against—harder when she wrapped her arms around him, one hand running through his atrociously unkempt hair.

“It’s okay,” she said, but they both knew it was a lie. He could believe a lie for a little bit, as long as he was wrapped in her embrace.

#writeblr #writeblr community #writers of tumblr #writers on tumblr #original work #original content #original characters #wip #wip excerpt #Pieces #mutual pining #fluff #cw: depression #Angst #Pining #best friends to lovers #eventually lol #LunarTyphoon OCs #Lune writes

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egoludes · 4 years

Text

the greatest gift of all.

note: so, to be honest with y’all...i have no idea where this came from. i was just minding my business this weekend, @adorecevans and i started talking about one (1) headcanon scenario, and now here we are! this is going to be a v casual series, basically just snippets of dom!chris and sub!reader (in no particular order) building a relationship. future installments will explore the history more, but what you need to know for this one and the series overall: dom!chris meets sub!reader through a dom/sub dating app of sorts and have been engaging each other long distance for a few months. reader has no idea that it’s chris evans for the obvious reasons, and since he doesn’t give a name at all, she addresses him as Sir. i’ll explore all that background more in the future, but for now: i really hope you enjoy!

credits: unsplash for the stock image, and an anon in @honeychicanawrites‘s asks one day for the image of cevans calling his lady ‘mama’... i had to do it.

warnings: masturbation, voyeuristic vibes, intimacy over video call, dom/sub dynamics, long distance / virtual relationships, sex toys, use of title as name (sir).

wc: 2.3k

The thought comes to you on a Sunday afternoon.

You’re on your belly thumbing through texts, legs up and crossed at the ankles with Sir’s newest gift -- a pretty pink slip -- and your laptop beside you. The screen is dark, save for a grey circle with an initial in the center that lets you know he’s there, listening, when you say: “Have you ever tried one of those dildo molds, Sir?”

The initial silence is suffocating, and you worry for a second that the idea - spur of the moment, really - goes too far. You’re just learning each other, after all; still adjusting to the pictures, the calls, the gifts you model for him with pride.

But then, he speaks, a familiar rasp to the words that makes you clench in your fitting black shorts. The question comes from a place of genuine curiosity, but you’ve riled him up still, which excites you; always does. “That’s what you’re thinking about over there, huh? Feeling me?”

Your body heats, conditioned already to react to that dangerous tone in his voice; but you try to keep your expression reticent when you turn it to your camera. There’s another moment of nothing -- just you watching the lens like it’s him before you. Then, your lips curl, lids narrow, and your voice turns playfully sweet. “Well, when am I not?”

He hisses, a sharp sound that makes you preen, and you can hear him on the other end, adjusting his screen. “Easy, mama,” he growls, earning himself a giggle, “it’s too early for you to be working me up.”

You laugh again, this time with more body before resting your cheek on your palm. Without his video on -- a compromise you’ve grown used to -- you can’t know that he’s actually watching you. But you lean into it all the same, swinging your legs behind you. “But, have you?”

He clicks his tongue, a thoughtful sound, and you imagine what his features must look like, twisted by consideration. “No - I don’t think I know anyone’s who has either.”

You hum, eyes glinting with something that makes him suck in a breath. “I’ve always wondered about it. Not just the process, but just...having one,” you murmur, settling deeper into your pensive stance. There’s a dreaminess to your tone that not even you notice; but he, that ever-mindful man, takes note.

You continue on, none the wiser.

////

A week later, you come home at the top of rush hour, grateful that you’ve made it so early, but burdened all the same. Stress is a fickle, but poignant thing, and you’re feeling its weight extra today as you make your way up to your apartment. You’re excited for the time to yourself, thinking on what you might make for dinner, when you see it - a small, but noticeable box at the foot of your door.

Immediately, your expression turns, confusion and wariness turning your mouth into a scowl. You don’t remember ordering anything, nor are you expecting something for anyone else. You hope the label will give you a clue about what this could be, but to your chagrin, it has no company - just your address and a generic return location.

Still, you take it in, setting it on the kitchen counter, where it stays forgotten as you shower, eat, and pour yourself a glass of wine. You’re halfway through the second when the package re-snares your attention from the corner of your eye. You drain the rest of your drink with a gulp, wiping red off the corners of your mouth before you stand, determined, to approach it.

The box is unassuming; plain cardboard with nothing but the barebones label to distinguish it. You lift it again, this time with both hands, to measure it and feel something heavy shift inside. It’s enough to pique your curiosity, and you tear through the packaging until you can see what’s in it.

At the center is another, smaller box made of sleek black velvet. A card is attached with red ribbon, careful lettering penned in dark ink. Even before you fish it out, you can work out the message, but it doesn’t feel real until the note sits in your hand and you’re reading it up close.

For my favorite girl; so you can feel me any time you want.

Sir.

Your eyes dance over the words a few times before their meaning sinks in and you realize it’s a gift from him. Then, you’re practically rabid, tugging out the box out and flipping the lid in one motion.

When you see what’s inside, it’s all you can do not to buckle at the knees. In the middle of the box, set up almost regally on a bed of plushy silk, is a veined, pink dildo. You don’t need to touch it to know that it’s heavy, but that doesn’t stop you from doing it all the same. Your fingers take it by the base first, wrapping firmly above the balls to test the weight. And you moan at it, that delicious thickness as you lift it from the box with both hands. Your palms curve around it, twitching with want, and you realize then that this is what he looks like, what he feels like.

What you would get if he came home to you for real.

The thought is too much to bear. Your breath quickens, fingers dancing deliberately up and over the shaft to size it up. You tell yourself that this is all you need for now ---- you know better than anyone that to use this toy for the first time without him is a test of his patience you’re certain to fail. But, the more you touch, the more you need, and before you can reconsider, you’re on your hands and knees on your couch, panties pressed sloppily to the side as you guide the heft of Sir’s length past your aching entrance.

The impact is immediate. You fall forward with a gasp as every inch stretches you open and by the time it’s fully seated, your face is completely hidden in your couch cushions. The fabric muffles your voice as your hips start to move, a slow, languid grind to make sure everything is felt.

You get so lost in it, you don’t hear your phone buzzing until it’s almost too late. But, at the nth moment, you recognize the ringtone you’d chosen just for him and, despite the clear risk of answering, you reach for the device, trembling with nerves, excitement, and lust, at the dangerous game you’re about to play.

When you answer, there’s nothing but darkness from his end and your face in the corner. You’re sitting on your butt now, legs carefully spread and hips angled to keep from jostling the toy inside you. But, it’s hard not to squirm in a situation like this; even more so, when he starts to talk, voice raw from the day.

“Hi, honey,” he breathes, the endearment -- your favorite -- making your heart swell, “almost thought you were already asleep.”

You shake your head, biting back a knowing smile. “No, Sir… I’m still awake, just...watching tv.”

“Yeah?” He says, something skeptical in the tone. Even without his video on, you can almost feel his gaze burning a hole in your expression. Like he’s inspecting it, picking it apart for clues. He must find one, because he hums lowly; a dip in the sound that makes it sound like he’s smirking. “Only watching tv?”

“Y-Yes, Sir…”

“Okay, okay -- what’re you watching? Is it any good?”

Your eyes flicker towards the television to glean what’s playing, but Sir catches you before you can get a good look. “Nuh uh -- eyes over here.”

Despite your better judgment, you pout, all but caught now, and the expression makes him laugh. He’d had a number of subs before you -- people who had piqued his sexual interest, but never quite held up to any of his other, more innocent expectations. But you ---- even if he wouldn’t call you something as invested as a lover, your personality makes it hard to be anything but endeared to you. Before he knew it, he was in headlong, calling you for sessions a couple times a week, sending gifts even more than that. You’re fun to just exist with, even in this moment as he’s so deliberately toying with you.

“Can’t be too good if you can’t tell me anything about it without looking, huh?” His voice drops, a dangerous timbre taking it, and you feel your body shake. “So you gonna tell me the truth before you get yourself in more trouble?”

A whimper breaks past parted lips and you bite down a little too late to stifle the sound. “T-The toy,” you whisper, clenching around his cock despite him being hundreds or thousands of miles away. The irony isn’t lost on you - if anything, it’s making your need spike. There’s something so odd, but so enticing about the whole thing. “I couldn’t wait, Sir… your cock just looked so good.”

Sir curses near the phone, so close that you swear you can feel the breath of it on your palm. “Jesus...I knew you’d be hungry for it, but I didn’t think it’d get you this much. Breakin’ our number one rule and everything.” You shift on the couch, free hand reaching to pull out the dildo in anticipation of his punishment. It’s likely to be no orgasms for the night which, as disappointing as that is, seems almost worth it for the pleasure of this weight inside you. Then he speaks again, forcing you to pause in your motion.

“Get on your computer ---- I want to see the way I fit inside you. Then, we can talk about your punishment.”

The minutes between your phone call and the start of the call on your laptop are equal parts tantalizing and tortuous. You’ve only broken this rule once prior and ended up having to watch him fuck his hand through two sloppy orgasms before getting sent to bed without touching yourself even once. So the fact that he seems to be inclined to let you keep the dildo in gives you pause.

But it’s the sort that’s almost intoxicating. Your adrenaline is pumping, thighs slick with want, and by the time you’ve gotten the video up and running, you’ve shed your panties completely, legs wedged open with the camera trained between them as directed.

“Fuckin’ hell, sweetie… look at that pussy eating me up.” You whine out for him, walls clenching visibly at his words in a reaction that makes him purr. “That good? Everything you thought it would be?”

You nod in a daze, cock drunk even with your hips still, and Sir shifts on the other end, the telltale clink of an open belt alerting you to how good it feels for him too. You’re in two minds to beg him to see, even if it’s just a view of the waist down, when he beats you to the punch. “Take it out --”

You blink, trying to focus on his words enough to make sense of his command. He can see the confusion in your face and has to try not to laugh. “Take it out,” he repeats, “and sit on it. I want to see you take it properly.”

It’s a scramble after that -- you, shifting and guiding the toy out of you until you’re hovering over the tip of it on your knees. Lidded eyes dance towards your laptop as you still there, body wound tight in anticipation, and like many times before, you hold his gaze through the lens as you sink down, down, down onto the dildo he made for you.

If you thought you were full before, you’re certainly learning your lesson. The change in angle has the cock dizzyingly deep, enough that it punches the air out of your lungs. You can feel the balls against your bare skin, a permanent reminder of how much you’ve taken, and when he calls for you again, adoration in the breathy tones, you can’t help but buzz.

You love to make him proud of you.

His tone is so tender that you nearly forget you’re in trouble and are about to lift your hips and give him a show when he stops you. “You heard what I said, honey,” he teases when your confused expression returns. “I want you to sit on it. You stay right where you are.”

The urge to beg is potent -- a searing kind of desperation that you’ve never minded indulging with him. But before you can form words in your head, let alone out loud, the dildo comes to life inside you, shaking with such force you cry out from the suddenness. Between being full, and the toy revealing itself to be a vibrator, it’s all too much, so much, and you’re falling back into the couch knees shaking beneath you.

“Now, now, don’t give up on me yet,” Sir coos, a distinct click sounding from his side of the screen and confirming your suspicions when the vibrator turns off right after, “you wanted to feel me, didn’t you?” He pauses long enough for you to nod, gasping in a breath as your teary eyes dance blindly over the screen you wish you could see him on. There’s another click, then a cry as your body arches in an involuntary jolt.

“Then, be a good girl - show me how well you can handle it.”

#chris evans x reader #chris evans fanfic #chris evans writing #dom!chris evans x reader #chris evans masterlist #honey and sir.

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therealmintedmango · 4 years

Text

Cerberus - Part One

Summary: ...”An eerie shadowy figure looms across the way making my murderous blood run cold. It looks smaller than a bear so the thought of running into a bloodthirsty wild animal leaves my mind. It looks not like a wild boar or cat. Wait. There appears to be not just one figure looming across the meadow but two. My eyes widen. The figures don't move but they both stand like humans would upon two legs. But they are bigger… Much larger now that I squint across at these two unknown figures. My stomach drops as I feel like a low growl is produced by the looming, unwavering figures… with… glowing amber eyes?...”

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Genre: Werewolf/ Shifter AU; Medieval AU; Strangers-To-Lovers AU; Heavy Angst; Soulmate AU; Eventual romance/ smut

Beta Read By: @justanothergirlfromeurope Thank you so much my darling for helping me with this! You are wonderful! Thank you! 💖

Rating: NC 18+, Explicit

Words: 5,379

Pairings: (Eventually) ot7 BTS x Human Female Reader

Warnings: Dark themes; Possible Yandere Vibes in the future; Death; Gore; Murder/ Killing; Implied Incest (nothing happens - I promise); Mentions of being naked/ being seen naked; I think that’s it.

It’s late July in the afternoon, the hot sun baking boils on exposed skin if you are a brave enough soul to show any flesh. The cicadas cry, the large winged beasts screaming into the scorching air, sounding like terrible, angry monsters. My giggles cut through the loud droning of the winged beetles, pleased to my core I even let out an unladylike snort, shoulders shaking as Seungkwan tells the group of us a joke. I sit with a few of my brothers - the princes of the land in which father rules - in the shade of the maple when the laughing ceases as a shadow blocks the sun from roasting us further. The younger crowd of my brothers and I look up to see it is men from the king’s court, walking over to our shady spot in the garden, solemn features, shiny hats, and a loyalty to my father is the only thing they share.

They say that mother has passed.

My brother Minghao gets up and asks where the older kin of boys are. The advisors tell him as he barks at us to stay here. The castle, they say. Infection, they say. Seokmin gasps, the bright smile like mother’s downturned at the news. Seungkwan’s joyful attitude dies. Vernon covers his face with his hands, a sob ripping from his throat. Youngest of my thirteen brothers, Chan, clings to me suddenly, tears welling in his large brown orbs as I hold him steadfast.

The food sitting in my stomach feels rotten and cursed all of a sudden. All the sound dies from my ears, my mouth hangs open as the breath escapes me.

Infection they say? How could they say such a thing? She was never ill, I think as people are running in and out of the castle, screaming and crying—something I wish I could do at this moment. I flinch, hearing my most vicious brother - Soonyoung - bellow a sound I wasn’t aware he was able to produce.

I feel the same, but only in my heart for my lips cannot utter even a simple, single whisper.

I was never close with mother even being the only daughter she had out of the fourteen children she created over the years with father when she was fertile - the only job a woman of nobility has in these times. And when she is finished having many children she is to still retain her youthful appearance which she did easily.

They said that she gave her children a little piece of herself when she birthed us all. Chan has her sparkling eyes, Seokmin her smile, Junhui has her high cheekbones, Soonyoung has her unbreakable spirit, Minghao has her sharp tongue, Jeonghan has her cunning brain, Jihoon has her feisty attitude, Mingyu has her ability to be understanding and kind in the midst of her fire and passion, Seungkwan retains her strange sense of humor, Wonwoo got her cool intelligence, Vernon got her uncanny skill to be so young but so strong at the same time, Seungcheol has her unyielding stride, and Joshua her wit. And they say that I am a twin of my mother physically: her hair, her body type, her smile, eyes, her wide hips, sharp shoulders, feet, hands, legs, and even my fingernails.

I only wish I had her spirit and fire my brothers bear, but perhaps they took it all before I was created in her belly? They say that children suck precious things out of you. Did I take everything else from her? Was my guilt eating me alive?

My father, the king of this land, kept her locked away most of the time in the high tower of the west portion of the castle. I don’t know much about father but I know he is easily jealous. He wants the best whatever that may be: the most children, the best cloaks, the best military, the cleanest streets, the shiniest coins, the happiest peasants, the most beautiful queen in all of the land. Father hated when mother would talk to anyone that wasn’t close kin at dinner time or when we went to the market when she would merely look at the fruit seller man. She would be gone for days, no trace of her for a week or so, emerging with tired eyes, brushing the stray hairs from my face as she smiled sadly at me. Little did I know there was no fruit seller in the cobblestone market either.

Still, my heart aches for a mother I had and hardly ever knew.

The sound of the boisterous cicadas fills my ears, hearing returning to normal as brothers Jeonghan and Joshua come to collect us shortly after that, faces made of what looks like stone.

It has been many moons since mother has passed. The air that was once ripe with colors and sounds is quieter now. It’s cool, my peacoat and shawl wrapped around me when I roam the garden in the afternoon with a different brother each day. It’s almost time for a harvest moon which comes in a week, Wonwoo told me on our walk yesterday. The demons and goblins of the underworld are said to have sprung up from the dirt and mud during these times. We sent mother away on a burning ship out to sea so I can’t help but wonder if mother is in the sky, the ground, or the sea still.

My brother Soonyoung and I walk quietly together, the brown leaves crunching under our boots. It is a rare time when his voice is still. I know he is pondering what to say to me.

What can one say to me?

I love them deeply though, their touch and affection they still bring to me after each day. Sun up to sun down they coddle me. They have always coddled me, even the elder ones who are fit and strong and ready to be wed treat me as if I am a babe. I used to hate feeling like this, like I am small and unimportant, a babe who needs protecting. The only daughter the king has ever had. One of fourteen. I am no one to my father, to his people. But to my brothers now I see, I am their youngest sister. Something they only have one of. They cling tighter to me emotionally and physically now that mother is no longer here.

I will take this feeling and hold onto it. I am important to them for that is why they treat me this way.

The sound of horse hooves clattering up the path behind startles me. Soonyoung shields me, pulling me into his warm chest. I am comforted and protected.

“Prince Soonyoung, Princess.” The captain speaks monotone. They do not call my name for I am a woman. Even of nobility and the pride of my brothers, I have no name besides my title.

The captain’s lips move. I have no idea if what I heard was true. Soonyoung snarls and tells them that it's preposterous and evil and to shoo before he cuts them with his blade attached to his hip. They turn on their stallions and leave, a fog rolling into the garden as I feel hot and confused.

Did I hear them correctly?

They say that father wants to marry me.

They say that he will never be able to find a bride as beautiful and as perfect as my mother. They said that I will wed at sunset tomorrow.

It is my turn to be made of stone as I fall into darkness. My breath is gone, a warm exhale hits the cool air, leaving my lips in a wisp before I pass out in my middle brother’s strong arms.

When I awaken, my eldest brother, Prince Seungcheol, is heard pleading with my father in the political hall. His usually calm voice echoes against the rock of the building, the fire crackling in his basins as my thirteen brothers all object to me being my father's next bride. His brows are kit, furrowed as his lips speak my thoughts for me while father watches with mild amusement, seated at his holy throne.

“She is not ready to be wed! She has not even bled yet!” He remarks, flinging his hands out to his sides. Little do they know, I have, I have just kept it a secret, becoming a woman is nobody's business but my own. “She is your daughter! Think, father! Think! How the kingdom will hate you for that! It is vile!” His voice cracks, tears swim in his brown eyes as my brothers shake their heads in agreement.

Yes. How vile indeed, I think watching them all silently behind a pillar from above the hall.

Father gets up with a wretched smile stretched upon his lips. I take a few steps forward, uncloaking myself from the secrets of the darkness in my nightgown a maid must have dressed me in, looking over the stone railing. “She is our littlest sister! Our only sister! She deserves to be married for love and only love-“

SLAP.

I gasp as my stomach pits into itself. My brothers flinch.

“How dare you talk like this to me, Seungcheol!” Father spits, anger flashing in his eyes like the fire in the torch basins. “She is a woman. She has no rights no matter who and what she is. She belongs to me.”

“How dare you treat Y/N like an object and not like your daughter!” Soonyoung snarls, mothers fire lit inside of him like the hot sun. He is brilliant and strong like a tiger who burns through the forest in his powerful wake.

Father raises his hand striking Soonyoung across his cheek with a sound that echoes in the corners of the hall. Something falls from his hands, though its clanking sound is covered up from the shouts that follow.

“How dare you thirteen boys!” Father is shouting, my feet are moving on their own, rushing down the stairs to my brothers. “All of you are utterly worthless!” He shouts as Mingyu, the tallest brother, rage ablaze on his face as he moves toward the king, arms raised as he acts like he is about to slap father.

Please, don’t! Is what I want to say, but I cannot.

“Guards!” My father shouts into the hall as they come running in at his command. “Flog them all hundred lashes each!” He smiles a wicked smile as I run up to the scene with the ones carrying swords and pointed sticks. “And if they make a sound give them ten more!”

My brothers are being beaten and detained and my heart is breaking into fragile glass as the noise and blood coming from their mouths is too much to bear.

I do the only thing I can do.

It is my turn to protect my brothers.

Please mother, give me all your strength to stand up to this vile, evil man who surely killed you for the sport of it. My gut twists thinking of the peril I may face rising to the challenge that is our father.

“Stop!” I say, my voice shaking as the next few seconds feel like hours and the eyes of all the men in the hall are on me. I walk toward my weathered and old looking father as he smirks a devilish grin down at me ascending the steps to his throne.

“Father please, I beg you: I will marry you and do whatever you say, as long as you let them go now.” My voice does not shake now. My voice is calm and steady. Mother’s spirit fills me at this moment as I speak up to my father. Before this, I have not spoken to him before this for what feels like eons until now.

“No!” Several of my brothers yell as I stand in false confidence, inhaling the iron from the red liquid that fills the hall. “No! No! No!” They shout as I stand in front of the man that doesn’t see me as a daughter. I am an object to him, whether I like it or not.

He smiles, stroking his wiry, grey beard as he sits back on his golden chair, cloaks draped over his shoulders pool and spill over the seat behind him.

“Whatever you say?” Father quips and I nod, hands balling into fists onto my sides, nails that are not mine dig into skin that is also not mine. “Then strip.”

My eyes grow wide, my lips part in shock, my blood which is mine boils, white-hot and merciless trapped in this skin that should belong to my mother.

“Father, please!” Jeonghan, my father’s son and second eldest, pleads now. “Be reasonable!”

“She said anything, boys.” My father, the ugly worm that he is, states calmly.

“Should a virgin be seen like this before she is wed?” Joshua makes a good point while father rips his pupils away from me as Jihoon, smart bugger that he is, recites the article of the kingdom where it is unlawful for a virgin to be seen in such a state before she is made another man’s woman.

Father scoffs as he says, “Flog them two hundred times if they don’t like-“

“No.” I say, holding my ground, brushing hair out of my face. All eyes on me again as Chan starts crying. “I will do what you wish.”

“Then do it!” Father shouts, banging his fist on the arm of the golden seat as he gets up. “Do it now and if anyone makes a noise: I will behead you.”

I do it. I find the buttons on my yellow nightgown, my hands do not shake or waver as I shake the comfortable garment from my shoulders. My slip is the only thing that covers me now. My brothers close their eyes, look away, Chan choking on his sobs but the only thing I can hear is the roar of the crackling of fire. I step out of my nightgown, walking up to my father's throne. I see it. Glinting in the torch light. A stray blade lies upon the steps close to the devil king that is my flesh and blood.

Praise the gods for the viscous middle brother I have.

I step out of my white slip now, distracting the men who have their wicked eyes set upon me, hungry wolves ready to take any meat they can. I hold my father’s gaze as it travels down my body, making sure he does not look upon what my right hand is doing.

I have it. I move quickly, the spirit of my mother now fully alive inside of the body that is said not to be mine.

But now it’s mine.

I am not a disrespectful child nor have I lashed out against my parents ever. I followed the rules without exception, never spoke out of turn and always let my older brothers go first for treats and presents. Always. I am a slave to my family and the system that I was born into. The ugly demons and snaggle-toothed goblins are really alive and well during this time as my brothers have said. The scent of strong ale hits my nose the closer I get. Maybe the beings of the underworld have possessed him? I am looking for a way out, a way to logically justify the way father is. But no. I know the real answer.

This man is evil. Has always been evil. And he needs to be stopped.

I am not a killer. But I am sick of the mistreatment of my family. I know my father killed my mother. There was no infection. None.

Like a crazy witch with eyes burning like white-hot coals, whose blood is singeing to be set free, I plunge the pointed blade into my father’s throat.

Blood spurts from his neck, squirting against my bare flesh, his eyes roll back as he gurgles profanity, my body blazing as my whole existence is overcome with the desire to end this cycle of corrupt injustice.

“Run!” Vernon shouts as the guards descend in my direction. I drop the blade in haste, my brothers scream for me to run away as the guards scream mutiny.

And I do.

—

-Somewhere deep within the neighboring wood...-

“I’m hungry.” A clear tenor tone sounds off in the dark wood, a small chuckle leaving his lips as he resumes a human form in all his naked glory. Hoseok’s lithe body full of sweat glistens under the moonlight as he reaches for his purple cloaks under the large tree in the middle of the bog they just finished running around in.

“Me as well, brother.” A deep bass vibrates off the trunks of the thick trees, his wolf form morphing into his handsome, tan body.

“Taehyung, Hoseok.” A soft voice wafts through the air. “We aren’t to feast before the full moon.” The eldest quips, melting from his shiny fur, shaking his dark locks free from his collar as he dresses under the almost pregnant moon.

“I can’t wait.” The second eldest grunts as he comes into the torch light that was burning on the stump next to their favorite tree. “The air is ripe with so much wildlife tonight.” He wets the edges of his lips, the thought of fresh, pink, juicy flesh at the forefront of his mind as well as his brothers.

“Where are Jungkook and Jimin?” Namjoon growls as he quickly morphs into his tall self, sweaty skin glistening under the light from the mother moon. Their run through the dense wood was very fruitful in the sense that they let loose and got a lot of pent up energy out of their bodies.

“Weren’t they behind you, Yoongi?” Seokjin questions as he scoops up the younger one’s clothes in his arms, signaling Taehyung and Namjoon to take the torch light. Yoongi shakes his white hair back and forth with a solemn grunt. “Very well,” Seokjin nods, twitching his nostrils in the air. “Hoseok, you have the loudest howl. Will you please call for the troublemakers?”

The man with the hair as bright as cherry pie chuckles right before he sucks in a large breath. The third eldest bellows a howl that will be heard throughout the wood surely.

They wait with bated breath for two of the younger brothers to respond. The wind whips around them carrying the smell of fallen, rotting leaves, thick moisture in the atmosphere, and the odor of something unfamiliar in the air. They all exchange looks in the torches' soft, orange glow. Something doesn’t feel right.

The five brothers start to become uneasy. Taehyung shifts on his feet. Yoongi wets the edges of his lips more. Namjoon shifts his eyes between his brothers, swallowing uncomfortably. Hoseok frowns, kicking a few leaves in the dirt as he waits for the brothers to return his call.

After another moment or two, the second eldest bristles, anger flashing in his amber orbs. “I swear if those wild banshees from the Twicelands have set another trap for us in our forest-“

The white-haired brother is cut off by the sudden cry of both of his brothers they were in search of, coming east off the dense bog.

“Come quickly!” Jimin yelps, his higher pitch ringing around the wood. “Come see brothers!”

Meanwhile, Jungkook only utters one word that has the brothers taking off like bats out of the deep trenches of hell. “Mate!”

—

My skin is on fire, my fingertips numb, and my feet hurt as I run naked from the castle into the blackness of the night.

I escaped through the kitchens, not a sane soul awake at this hour so I quietly slipped through the cracks. I hear more yelling and shouting but I cannot slow down. The blood of my father drips down my naked body, making me feel like a painted warrior.

A shout is heard from the stable. The men on my father’s court call my name but it is not a happy sound. It is a sound of lies, of deceit, of pain they want to inflict upon me. I shudder when I hear Soonyoung scream a throaty battle cry into the evening air, on his way to find these men and rip them limb from limb surely.

Under the almost full, pregnant moon, a blood bath is occurring in the usually peaceful castle.

I trip on an exposed root from a tree beyond the stables. When I gather myself, pushing up off the ground, I see a bed sheet hanging from a line out to dry and I snatch it from the air. I tie it, tugging it around myself loosely, giving my legs room to carry me off into the thick wood that lines the backside of the castle.

Dread and fear taint my senses as I pad along the brush barefoot, trying to maintain a quietness even though I am running. The fallen leaves crunch underfoot, the earth cold. My naked body starts to shiver, the adrenaline of my actions wilting away as I fly through branches and bushes. I have no clue where I am headed, the pale moonlight guiding me. Wherever I see on my path I go next.

My feet slip on the slick ground under my feet. I trip over my heel several times, mud and dirt covering my palms as I right myself. I must not look like a princess, so disgusting, covered in blood and unkept in this feeble, white bed sheet.

I have to press on, I remind myself.

My breathing is ragged as I climb through long, pointed branches and under low shrubs. I stop for a second to catch my breath as I glance at the almost completely blackened forest. The nightlife of the dark wood whispering around me: bats screeching overhead, crickets that haven’t died out sing into the cold night air, even a pack of wolves howl out into the throes of the velvet evening.

I suck in a cool gust of air, ready to trek along the unknown path once more.

Wisps of my breath leave my lips as the cold night air stings my lungs. It feels as though I have been running for ages, the torch light not visible through the thickness of the tall trees. Have I run far enough? I think as I come to a little clearing in the wood, a meadow of soft, lush clover encompasses the land.

An eerie shadowy figure looms across the way making my murderous blood run cold. It looks smaller than a bear so the thought of running into a bloodthirsty wild animal leaves my mind. It looks not like a wild boar or cat. Wait. There appears to be not just one figure looming across the meadow but two. My eyes widen. The figures don't move but they both stand like humans would upon two legs. But they are bigger… Much larger now that I squint across at these two unknown figures. My stomach drops as I feel like a low growl is produced by the looming, unwavering figures… with… glowing amber eyes?

A wind whips through the meadow quickly, breezing from behind me, whipping my hair and the bedsheet about like a flag on a pike.

I hear the sound of horses and I gasp, covering my mouth with the noise I just made. I shake my head, snapping out of my trance of looking to the almost human like figures.

Have they found me? Have the guards and the men of my father’s court located me? My brothers were surely fighting, right? I pray none of my kin have lost their lives because of me. Or are they not men from my father’s castle? Would they hurt me? Torture me? Deflower me?

I shudder.

I turn to run east, looking over my shoulder to the figures that have disappeared in the trees. A fog sweeping through the thicket, blocking my vision. It was probably a trick of my scared mind, I remind myself.

Another thought chills me to the bone as I feel the exposed skin of my legs and arms slice under the thorn bush I accidentally stumble into, making more noise than necessary. I squeak in pain. The more I try and pry myself of the spikes, the more I become entangled inside of the nasty, winding plant. I want to call for help but I don’t want to alert whatever is coming near me.

It is almost the harvest moon. The line between realms is blurred meaning creatures that normally I think exist in fairy tales are real at this time of year. Could it be a wandering herd of ghouls? A pack of wild demons coming to devour my flesh clean off my bone? My body shakes with uncertainty as I paw about the dirt.

Ever since I was a little girl, my brothers have warned me about the wood. I should never go in alone. I should always bring someone. I should always have a weapon or a horse or something to protect me. Monsters are said to lurk in the bog that the wood surrounds in a thick sea of lush brush and vegetation.

An owl hoots overhead as the sound grows thicker, heavier. The footfalls inching closer and closer by the second. The wolf’s howl sounds off again, this time the cries from the beast desperate - the noise much too close for comfort.

No, I think as I freeze with a bone-chilling noise that vibrates off the trees around me. Not just one lone wolf howl. There are two very distinct animal noises that echo off the earth I lie bound to. One softer and longer. The other a little nasally and short - more like a bark than a howl.

I should have run to the market, I think, body shaking from the cold and acute fear that plagues my mind. I should have tried to hide with a peasant or two until this treacherous act blew over or married a nobleman’s family in a neighboring town. Mentally I chastise myself as the thunderous noise draws closer and closer. Why am I so rash?

My heart hurts, it clenches in around itself as I look up into the shimmering moon hanging low in the sky. In a bed of thorns I lie, blood from wounds of my own and from my father still flows down my body, exhaustion overtakes me finally. I’m entangled, suffocating in the sharp spikes that pierce my body, choking me from the freedom I so desire. I can’t move my muscles, my body tense and sore, my feet blistered and cold. I’m weary. A tear rolls out of my eye and falls onto my dirty cheek as I snap my orbs tightly closed, the horses almost upon me, I think as I hiccup a sob.

All of a sudden, the boisterous noise of what sounded like a hundred horses pounding toward me, stops. I suck in a breath and prepare for the worst. An eye for an eye, right? So they should slit my throat like I did to father.

It is my turn to die.

“Little bird,” a soft, steady tenor of a voice purrs out above me that I don’t recognize. My eyes fly open, revealing a glowing torch light and a few handsome faces I cannot place hanging around me. “It seems you’ve flown far from your nest.” He simpers, flames dancing off his puffy lips as he gently brushes a stray hair away from my unkempt face. He shows no disgust, only empathy as he gazes upon me trapped in this tangle of wild thicket.

I flinch as the long thorn branches I have ensnared myself in are being removed from my shivering body. The other boys, I’m unsure of how many surround me, take extreme caution, trying not to harm me as they pull the plants off of me.

“Are you from Royaume des Diamants (Kingdom of Diamonds)?” His puffy, pink lips utter quietly in the night. I stare at his sculpted face, admiring his accent as I feel like the terrors of the darkness are melting away with his soft speech. I say nothing but look up into the rich eyes that seem to glow a golden-amber shade in the torch light. They bewitch me and I am in awe. “Little bird?” His perfect brows twist into an expression of concern and I take a moment to glance away from his otherworldly face and to his other features for a second.

Dressed in rich purple with gold medals hanging from his broad shoulders, I can tell he was from a family of prestige. His lips are giant and lush but they are not out of place on his pale face. He appears to be a prince from those fairy tales I’ve heard so much about from the stories my brothers have told me since I was a babe. His dark hair envelopes his face, curling just at the ends, making him look far younger than I am sure he is. They finish uncovering me from the thorns and all gaze upon me covered in blood, dirt, sweat - looking positively disheveled - the farthest thing from a princess.

“Hyung,” a deep bass speaks from behind the broad shouldered noble-man, “she’s shivering.” A tan boy with thick eyebrows observes above me. His velvety voice makes my cold body feel warm with the way his timbre seems to echo off the wood of the trees around me.

“I know you are probably frightened and it looks like you have been through a lot…” The prince-like man holds an arm out for me to take. “...and even though your lips don’t speak, I do not wish for you to freeze out here in the wood.” The boys surrounding me shake their heads in agreement with the handsome one speaking. “Will you come with us, little bird?”

I don’t want to die and I don’t want to die out here in the cold night. Even if they want to hurt me or worse, I don’t want to die frozen to death in the thicket. Somehow, I don’t think they are bad men, but my threshold of trust was high due to the internal struggle I faced with my family. Still, I feel oddly comforted by the seven who are mostly quiet above me.

As I go to speak - to tell them ‘yes’, opening my lips slowly, nothing comes out. Not a peep or a squeak I can utter. The boys share looks of confusion at my lack of acknowledgment. My orbs flit from one handsome face to the next. Are they all princes wearing the same cloaks of purple and gold? I register you all, I swear I think in my mess of a mind. My body is too exhausted, not being able to do anything but nod once.

That’s all they needed to collect me it seems.

“Come, little bird.” The soft voice purrs again as I am being propped up gingerly, carefully by one of the boys around me. I lull my head against his warm body, a blanket or a cloak (I haven’t a clue which) was placed upon my dirty body. This boy is strong, not struggling to hold me up in the slightest I think as my eyelids flutter. I look up to him. He has long, black-as-night curly hair that falls around his neck, smiling tenderly down at me, his nose is long and rounded at the tip, a little mole under his lip catching my eyes that flutter more and more with every breath I take. Sleep was overtaking my body now that I know I am safe. “We will take you to a place where you will not suffer any longer.”

And with that affirmation, I nestle closer in the arms of the strong, young boy, believing the prince-like voice that hums a sweet lullaby. I yawn while he continues stroking my matted, tangled hair as I fall fast asleep against this stranger's chest.

I miss the seven smiles and nods, drinking me in with their sparkling amber gazes.

---------

PART TWO

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remsmoonlight · 3 years

Text

— title : glitter in the sky

— word count : 2.3 k words

— pairing : loki x reader

— summary : before putting into place his plan for thor’s coronation, he seeks you out one more time for comfort only you can provide

— warnings : maybe a teeeeeny bit of thor bashing but incredibly minor .. love ‘im fr , bit of sadness

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　requested ? nope　/ requests are open *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

an: i got this idea, first from watching the first thor movie because aw, and then moving onto silent hill and that field scene is a whole vibe..... who doesn’t wanna just chill randomly in a field with the sun on your skin with no responsibilities? hell yeah .. anyways this just got away from me in a way ha

Trailing your gaze up to the sky, your eyes marvel at the merging colours as you study them intently, witnessing the blend of hues and tones from a bright blue to a mixture of warm pinks and burnt oranges light up the surrounding area before you knew they would fade into nothing more than a dark blanket who’s only source of light would be the moonlight and the stars that would litter it.

Your shoes crunching the dry grass and the sounds of chirping from the various wildlife encompasses you, it takes all of your strength to not allow a large grin to brighten your features.

Despite being so late in the afternoon, time walking on a fine line towards the early evening, the heat from the sun is still so strong, comfortably toasting your skin as a heavy blanket on a cold winter’s night would.

In the distance you’re able to spot the intimidating stature of the aged tree, though it’s intimidating in name only ⎯ for now it holds only those memories that lay locked deep within your heart. Your situation is a rather unusual one. Many summer afternoons had been spent shielded from the harsh rays of sunlight that shone over everything it could touch, though they hadn’t been spent alone. Rather, they’d been spent with an exceedingly phenomenal man. Can he even be called that? You wonder to yourself, Loki was far from human. Far, far from it.

“ to think I had been of the belief you would not be appearing. “

The suddenness of the voice slicing through the noises of the concealed fields would have shocked you more had it not been so honeyed. Holding the recognisable smoothness that you only associated with Loki.

“ this is the first time I’ve ever been late, thank you very much. “ you answer with an unwavering nerve as you stare at him while amusement floods your expression.

“ and the last, I’m sure? “ an eyebrow raises as he questions you, a warmth brightening his aura against the coolness he exudes normally.

Believing he’s not of Earth had been hard for you to grip, to believe fully, no matter how many tricks he could conjure before your very eyes. Though disappearing right before you, then feeling the whisper of his breath dance on the back of your neck so gracefully had been the confirmation you required. From there on a friendship blossomed into something more, you both becoming more and more involved with the other. Holding such unbelievable secrets were not a common place for you, to have this continues to make you feel like such a special soul.

“ oh, shut up! “

You stroll towards him, closing the distance with an enthusiastic energy that not even the longest of days could wear you down. Nothing in the world makes you feel so secure and guarded than when you finally feel the weight of his arms snake around you to bring you forward into his embrace. For Loki, you are a home away from home. Never do you gaze upon him with untrustful eyes, nor do you view him as beneath you, many negative connotations are attached to his name and you? You simply see him for who he wishes he could be, only ever in your presence does he try not to disappoint you. Back on Asgard that’s all anyone ever expects, so why not play into their prejudices? It has protected him so far, though the thought that perhaps even that has done more harm than good tresspasses into his mind on a rare occasion.

It’s not something he wishes to think about there though. He wants to dedicate his short visit to you entirely. Pushing away the increasingly regular thought it’s just a heartbeat, he is not one to be naive to pretend. Illusions are second nature to him, to forge them as easily to breathe, but to experience them are something that is in his power to prevent. He could allow this one instance to be selfish.

“ might I inquire of your wellbeing since we parted last? “ he requests as fingers entwine with yours to guide you to the slight hollow space within the tree. You drop yourself without any elegance to the ground, he settles behind you with his legs on either side of yours.

You can’t help but marvel at the differences between the two of you, like night and day. However, your differences fit like a puzzle with no inconvenience.

“ life keeps trying to test my patience, same as ever but ⎯ “ you pause, your eyes shining with remembrance of the gift you had brought, of course you knew it’s nothing more than a silly little trinket but you couldn’t help but fall in love with it. “ here, my friend’s been making these pieces for their business and I couldn’t help but think of you. “

Adoration is the only thing that overwhelms him in this moment, it’s a feeling he wants to lock away to relive over and over, for the only time he has never been treated as an afterthought is by his mother. Now? It’s a feeling that hasn’t been forged by a bond born of blood, but one that has arisen naturally. The item in your hand is a small metal band, with designs etched onto its body.

“ it’s only a little thing I know ⎯ “ you begin to babble, the words tumbling before you could even stop them. Your mind losing all control over your language before Loki put a stop to it.

“ I’ll have you know it’s not the physical item itself, but the sentiment behind it I hold dear. “

You want to respond with equally sweet words, but the heavy tone doesn’t go undiscovered by your ears.

“ Loki, what’s wrong? “

“ nothing, why do you ask? “ the God denies, switching the questioning to you.

Turning to face him, your eyes scout all over his features to spot anything that would give you cause to continue on with your concern. It’s light, the ghost of sorrow concealed behind a curtain of confidence and ego, even the most professional of liars can’t hide the truth of that. The hurt cuts too deep for a flimsy pretense of everything being perfect for it to bury those feelings.

“ you’re an amazing liar, but I’m beginning to get the hang of you. Besides, sadness is something difficult to completely hide. “

A heavy breath is released, your fingers from their position on his shoulders feel as if there’s an invisible weight that has almost decreased. You wonder how long he has carried this with him.

“ tell me. “

Every fibre of Loki’s being is fighting to keep his feelings kept away out of sight, to imagine they never manifested themselves into reality, but locked into place by the profound compassion swirling in your eyes he wants to finally divulge everything in his mind that has been plaguing him. Who knew a mortal could have such an enchanting effect he thought humourfully to himself.

“ the deadline for a successor to my father’s throne is approaching. “

“ and you’re worried? “ your brows lower, confusion marking your features as you struggle to understand why that could be so bad?

“ I've veiled many things from you, a fault of mine I understand completely. “ he admits, a sorrowful smile gracing his lips.

“ it’s never too late to share them. It might help you feel better? “

Loki wonders just what it is he has done in his history to be blessed with such an understanding and caring soul as yours, nothing could ease the lasting effects of each and every of his transgressions over his many years of living. How exactly could such radiance and light find the dark Prince of Asgard so easily? Many who lived in his realm would argue that he’s not deserving, instead countering that his brother should be in such a position of happiness.

He simply gazes upon you before speaking, a slender finger raising to tuck a few stray hairs behind your ear.

“ the successor has already been chosen, they always have been. This is a mere formality. “ switching his sight from you to the environment around you both, turning to look upon the steadily darkening sky.

“ so why do it then? “

“ to ensure that the process is seen as fair, despite the favour repeatedly falling to my brother. “

Nodding in understanding, you finally realise why there is a darkness that swirls over his head now he speaks of the topic. Living in the shadow of the golden child is not easy, your heart hurts as you realise that there must be many people who do not see the same man who you see. They see audacity instead of a daringness, to mistake him for an egotistical know it all instead of someone who has a thirst for knowledge and tricks.

“ never did they wish to stop viewing me as a troublesome child, I suppose I never aided in changing that. “

Nothing falls from your lips, knowing no words could do justice for what you need him to know, to feel. Twisting yourself onto your knees, you lean forward and allow your arms to provide him comfort as they surround his neck. One hand raises to rest in the dense raven locks of hair you constantly marvel over, moving ever so softly to trace patterns.

“ I’m sorry. “ you mumble softly, wanting to say more, but you can’t help but resign yourself to being unable to say anything meaningful. Instead, figuring it would be better, first, for him to speak his emotions without looking for any advice.

“ you’ve nothing to apologise for. The pieces will fall as they should. “ he comforts, whining to himself over the absence of your warmth as you withdraw the embrace.

“ Loki, what do you mean by that? “

“ nothing for you to worry yourself over, my dove. “ he shakes his head, as a chuckle that is short accompanies it, contains little genuine amusement to settle you.

“ I’m being serious, what are you talking about? “ your demand is light in touch, though your gaze holds an unrelenting strength as he looks towards you once more.

“ again, nothing that requires your concern. Midgardians, you worry too much. “

“ over things that can get the people we love into trouble, of course. “

His heart pauses in beating as the words seep into his mind, realising exactly what you spoke. Briefly, does he wonder if he misheard you, thought deep down he knows what you spoke.

“ did you ⎯ ? “ an unrecognisable vulnerability crosses his expression as he begins to ask what you had said, to hear it again as if for the first time.

A reddening of you cheeks can be seen, you look down with a sheepish grin. This had not been the way you had imagined using the love word. Of course, over the years of your life many things had not gone to plan, so this was just another instance in a long, long line of events that just got away from you. While you know there is something mutual, you can’t bring yourself to look upon him just yet.

“ you heard me correctly. “

Elation swells within him, even the thought of perhaps you would prefer Thor had you met him first could not creep more than a few feet before being banished from sight and mind, it’s not something he wants to entertain. Especially for what he has in mind to plan for the future. Instead, he allows himself to be engulfed in your love, to experience the last piece of goodness that has been reserved for him, knowing it won’t last.

All you feel from your dropped gaze is your nose being nudged by his, then the weight of his lips on your own. Moving together as if they are fighting to mould into one, fitting together so well. Both of you are left breathless, momentarily caught in the feeling of the other that oxygen is the last thing on your mind.

“ do not trouble yourself over events that have not come to pass yet. Especially on an evening as fine as this. “

The corner of your lips tilt higher as your turn away from him to peer over the surroundings you had briefly forgotten. The burnt colours had long since faded into darkness, the stars being the only light as they can only be likened to being glitter in the night’s sky. A true beauty.

“ I love nights like these, where you can see all of the stars. “

“ you’d be besotted with Asgard’s constellations. “

You’d settled back into the position you were in previously, with arms encompassing you protectively with your back secured firmly to his chest. Loki explains the beauty of Asgard, and how even in the day the stars can still be seen against the shining vividness of the colours of their sky. Quarrelling against the gold hues from both the sun and the palace he knows only as his home.

“ that sounds wonderful. “ you whisper, feeling fatigue sneaking its way to the forefront of your mind.

“ it truly is a beauty to see. “ agreeing with you, resting his head upon yours. Wishing nothing more than to be able to stay there in that moment forever.

“ I wish I could see it. I’m very jealous right now. “

He can feel you becoming increasingly drowsy, flattered that you would even let your guard enough to even allow sleep to touch you. Having you on Asgard would certainly make him a happier person, to have someone who isn’t his mother understand him would be freeing. Though his father would die before he allowed that to happen, a mortal on Asgard.

“ Perhaps one day. “

Loki can’t be sure if you even heard that, but it’s something he wants to entertain. Besides, what is the use of being a master of mischief and tricks if he couldn’t make such a desire come true?

#loki x reader #loki imagine #loki layfeyson x reader #loki layfeyson imagine #loki fluff

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crystalnet · 3 years

Photo

Current X-book Mood-Ring Guide

There are an awful lot of X-books on the shelves right now. They are most of my monthly haul. No joke it is at least 12 books at this point. So, in order to cope with that, I’ve organized all the books into one of four different categories, aka “booster-pack” themes. Click through if you want to jump aboard the best X-men run since Morrison before the boat pushes off for the Hellfire Gala this summer! These are the 4 categories:

-Mainline Blue/Gold-style

-Jr. Mutants Academy

-2nd-Wave Krakoa Niche (aka “the good stuff”)

-Cetera

#1. Mainline Blue/Gold-style

Mood-color/vibe: Actually 90s-style Blue/Gold and like bright primary colors (but also muddy-ass colors from X-factor).

Books included: X-men, Excalibur, Marauders, X-force

Typical Pokemon: Scott Summers, Jean Grey, Wolverine, Betsy Braddock, Kate Pride, Beast, Black Tom, Storm, Bishop, Emma Frost, Rogue, Gambit, Jubilee, Kid Omega, Domino, a Pyro, Iceman, Avalanche. Rare drops: Apocalypse, X-23, Synch, Darwin, Kid Cable, Fantomex (in that Giant-Sized!)

These be the books for someone who wants those direct, mainline, core-members-style lineups. On the main book (adjective/word-play-less X-men) Hickman/Yu have worked wonders with their run, but it hasn’t been a stable team, instead focusing on Scott and his adventures dealing with some of the more prominent threats to Krakoa.

So it’s essentially been a revolving door of a book with Cyclops sometimes leading assaults against major problems and sometimes just being a dad to teenagers from the future, and it’s been generally great.

Meanwhile, the teams we find on the other 3 books could basically be a main X-men team if you just throw Jean/Scott/Logan onto them (except for X-force because Logan is usually on that one, actually, and Jean sort of is..)

X-force: Wolverine usually, Kid Omega, Beast, Jean (quitting?/back-up), Domino sorta, Sage, Black Tom Cassidy, Colossus once? Forge sorta. [Lot’s of backup or sometimes-members on this team but kinda centers on Beast, Omega, Wolverine and Jean or Domino]

Excalibur: Betsy Braddock, Rogue, Jubilee, Gambit, Avalanche, baby/dragon Shogo, Apocalypse (honorary, mia)

Marauders: Kate Pride, Storm, Emma Frost, a Pyro, Iceman, Bishop

On X-force, you get a little Morrison-homage energy going on what with Beast being sus, Quentin Quire having a character arc and dating a cuckoo and then all the body-horror. This one hasn’t been amazing and the art sometimes has issues for me but it’s been a solid expansion on Krakoa-Era lore.

On Marauders, you get a book centered on Kate Pride and the Hellfire Club. It’s been aight but I’m not the biggest Kate fan. Definitely has heart and the art has been beautiful.

Excalibur started a little weird for me... I lack the references or attachment to Otherworld or Davis/Moore-era Excalibur so I don’t think I’m even really the target demo, but I will say it recently, post-X of Swords-- which it set up single-handedly basically [along w/ one ish of X-men]-- has gotten more interesting in recent months. The Betsy + Kwannon stuff was great! And Howard did great with Apocalypse before he went off to another dimension. (points off for iffy color-palettes sometimes).

#2. Jr. Mutants Academy

Mood-color/vibe: Pastel

Books: New Mutants, X-factor, Children of the Atom, Cable

Common Pokemon: Magik, Cable, Rachel Summers, Doug, Warlock, Armor, Boom Boom, Scout, Dani, Warpath, Karma, Glob, Beak, Daken, Eye-boy, North Star, Rachael, Prodigy those Children of the Atom kids, Magma, Rahne, and a lot of lil kid mutants runnin’ around in Akademos/the Wild Hunt area of Krakoa whose names I don’t know yet.

This is the junior-crew club. New Mutants would be in the Blue/Gold books practically due to being part of the first wave of post-HoX/DoX books, but its basically been 3 different books/teams over its run and along w/ Children/Cable/X-Factor, it feels like there a whole handful of books offering up junior-crew shenanigans specifically.

So New Mutants has been all over the place, starting with a lineup of OG Claremont era New Muties, then focusing on a team consisting of Glob, Armor and Boom Boom (perpetual...”young adult” I guess?), now settling on a new team under Vita Ayala with Magik and Warpath heading up a squad of young ‘uns (beautiful art on the recent stretch). Hopefully it’s settling into its self now, because I can see longevity for this new squad... maybe.

I still have to read the 2nd issue of Children of the Atom, but am intrigued by it. X-factor meanwhile seems to be focusing on queer representation with people like Prodigy, Daken, North Star and Rachel on the same group together. Polaris started out the lead of that title only to be plucked out by Duggan (or the fanbase) for the main X-team coming up. This honestly makes sense, because even though she isn’t drawn this way, shouldn’t Polaris be considerably older than someone like Rachel? Eh.

Also, in issue #4 of X-factor we had a beautiful homage to the Academy X mutants, with several cameos, so it seems like Marvel is intentionally using these junior-crew books to acknowledge all the various junior-crews, whether it be OG Claremont kids, Generation X people, the kids intro’d under Morrison and Whedon, or even the dang ‘ol Academy X ones, they seem to all be getting at least some representation in some book.

Also Cable owns. Didn’t know I’d like the Kid-Cable guy until this book and his appearances in the main title, but now it’s confirmed. Him dating Esme, Kid Omega dating Phoebe? These crazy telepaths! Anyway, I hope Duggan’s main-team book is more like Cable than Marauders, in terms of pacing and characterization, but they both have beautiful art!

New mutants: Karma, Magik, Mirage, Scout, Warlock, Warpath and Wolfsbane

X-factor: Daken, Eye-boy, Polaris (quit?), North Star, Rachael, Prodigy

#3. 2nd-gen Krakoa Niche aka “the good stuff”

mood-color/vibe: purples, metaphysical/cosmic pallets, tertiary colors

books included: Hellions, S.W.O.R.D., Way of X

common Pokemon: I mean they’re basically all rare drops

This is the good stuff! Who would have thought. And when I think about it, Way of X and S.W.O.R.D., as part of the second wave of Krakoa-era books that started with Cable, both address some of the core issues and ideas that the whole HoX/DoX mini kicked off better than-- or at least more directly-- the other books. So I guess the non X-men, first-wave Krakoa books feel “mainline” in terms of their team lineups, but in terms of content, these newer ones almost feel more relevant by design. S.W.O.R.D. focuses on the cosmic context of the mutants post-Krakoa and Way is Kurt’s first spot-light moment in the era and is expressly concerned with Kurt’s addressing of the deeper moral quandaries that a people who have conquered death will be faced with. I mean, it's expressly about religion and like, spirituality-- a very tall order, but first issue pulled it off super deftly.

Also Hellions is better than it has any business being! Read this if you want savagely dark humor and some very obscure mutants + Havok/Psylocke/Sinister. But if I had to reccomend one, it’d be a tie b/w S.W.O.R.D and Way. First issue of Way was exceptional and got right into things and Kurt’s very well-written and will surely prove a meditative lead for a book like this, whereas S.W.O.R.D is epic in scale while still have sick character moments/dialogue. Manifold had a great issue or two and is now my favorite new mutant, even in the context of a somehow-actually-good King in Black tie-in. Damn! And everything going on b/w Magneto and Fabian Cortez (who was made to argue for why mutants should be allowed to murder “flatscans”/humans to the whole Krakoan council this week whilst naked. It’s fantastic. Hell, even the Snark-War sounds...interesting? What’s happening to me.

S.W.O.R.D.: Fabian Cortez, Magneto, Abigail Brand, Peeper, Manifold, Wiz-Kid, Mentallo, Fenzy

Children of the Atom: Cherub, Marvel Guy, Cyclops-Lass (?), Gimmick, Daycrawler

Hellions: Havok, Psylocke, Empath, Orphan-Maker, Nanny, Wild Child, Sinister, Greycrow

#4. Cetera

Mood-color/vibe: colorless, “normal” element

Books included: Fallen Angels (complete 6-ish mini), All the damn Wolverine books, the uh Sword of X “guidebook” and the new Peach Momoko Demon Days books and whatever X-men Legends is.

These are titles which are either complete or don’t fit in with other things or in Demon Days or the X-men Legends’ books’ case, I think don’t even occur in-universe. And per usual of course there are multiple Wolverine books... the main one seems fine.

Anyway all-in-all, these books are doing weirdly well. Mutants as a concept shouldn't be able to be spread this thin story-telling wise, but the books don’t really feel redundant and most are filling a specific niche or purpose. I may be dropping some of the first-wave Blue/Gold style books (Marauders and X-force I'll probably just check in on from time-to-time), but S.W.O.R.D., Way, the main book under Hickman or Duggan and Hellions all have me verrrrrry satisfied. Even standard stories in the Krakoa era feel special, and that speaks to the power of Hickman’s vision. Hellfire Gala, here we come.

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born-to-lose · 2 years

Note

I almost feel dumb asking this but where are your blog title and description from?

Pls don't feel dumb! The title is from Sunrise over Sunset by The Cruel Intentions which my hoe buddy Frank put on a playlist for me and the vibes are immaculate and fit my header so I had to put that lol

The lyrics in the description are from 11th Street Kids by Hanoi Rocks which is one of my brand songs since October 2020 I'd say? I'm just emotionally attached to it because thanks to my house number 11 I feel like an honorary 11th street kid 😌 When you listen to it, please picture me running from the train station to school last year when I was about to be late because that was my go-to song for these moments. I picked that line specifically because sometimes I wonder what my ex besties are doing now and we used to write on walls too

#sorry this turned into an essay skjfgd you only wanted the songs #ask #anon

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maria-scribbles · 4 years

Text

loyalty’s all i got | part one

summary: three years ago, you had it all: great friends, good grades, and an almost perfect relationship with your boyfriend, jj. it all came crashing down when your mom relocated your family to california for work and you were forced to trade the outer banks for malibu, leaving your broken heart behind in the place you were just starting to think of as home. now you're back in town for college and to pick up the pieces, hoping to make things right again with your friends and the boy you never stopped loving.

word count: 8.9k+ i'm legit incapable of writing something short 😅

ship: jj maybank x female!reader, pogue friendship

warnings: mentions of child abuse, non-graphic injuries, weed, swearing, underage drinking, learning to be vulnerable, trust issues, first love, jj getting the love and affection he deserves, underage sex (nothing too descriptive but it gets a lil spicy, just fyi), teenage heartbreak, failed long distance relationship, angst with a happy ending, references to some taylor swift songs 'cause she's a queen.

a/n: got a lil plot bunny that wouldn't leave me alone so here we are lol. title and inspiration for this fic comes from train's song "rescue dog" that gave me 'jj x reader where they're both damaged goods' vibes the second i heard it. this is semi canon-compliant as the treasure hunt never happened but big john is still alive and kie and sarah still work out their issues and become friends again. i used the names daisy, daniel, deke, and mack as a tribute to agents of shield, one of my favorite shows that had just had its series finale (and i'm still an emotional mess). enjoy and keep an eye out for part two, coming soon!

~masterlist~

part one: when our love was young and easy

For you, having a traveling nurse as a mom was both a blessing and a curse. When you were a kid, you loved bouncing around the country to a new town every so often and finding new places to explore with your rebellious big sister. Back then, she was all you needed to be happy: you'd go anywhere and everywhere as long as Daisy, your best friend, was by your side.

As you both grew older and started school, you slowly realized that packing up your life every few years sucked. Yeah, seeing new places was cool and all but the novelty wore off fast when you found yourself making friends with your classmates, kids who weren't your sister for once, only to lose touch whenever you moved again. You felt like a ghost, haunting a new school for a while and then leaving behind nothing but a memory, one that gradually faded over time until it was gone, as if you never existed at all. You wondered if anyone actually remembered you.

It was hard. You gradually became more sullen and withdrawn, finding it more and more difficult to make friends when you knew they wouldn't last, while Daisy acted out even worse than usual and ended up being grounded almost every week. It took her getting arrested while graffitiing the school gym on New Year's Eve for your father - a bit clueless about being a stay-at-home dad to two girls but he tried his best- to put his foot down and tell his wife enough was enough.

"Our kids need stability, Rebekah. They need a chance to make real friends and stay in one place for longer than two or three years. They need a home."

Thankfully by some miracle, your mother agreed and promised the next move would be the last until you graduated high school. You wanted to believe her so badly but you weren't sure if you could as you packed up your life once again and headed down south from Rhode Island.

That's how you ended up in the Outer Banks of North Carolina, finishing eighth grade at some fancy ass academy that you weren't sure your parents could afford. Daisy, a sophomore, seemed to have no problem fitting in on the north side of the island when she landed a job as a lifeguard at the country club and made fast friends with the rich kids that frequented the pool. It stung a bit when she eventually started ditching you for them (and some older boy named Kelce; you knew she'd snag a boyfriend eventually but you didn't realize it'd be so fast and with someone so...douchey) but you tried not to let it bother you too much, as you were okay getting by on your own and honest-to-God happy for your sister. Making friends was a scary thought when you remembered all the kids you've had to leave behind over the years, all the friendships that crumbled into dust in the wind so you tried to stay at arm's length from your classmates and told yourself you were just fine the way you were.

The loneliness was hard to ignore though, and you soon found yourself slowly, reluctantly becoming friends with a girl named Kiara that sat beside you in algebra after she helped you cram for a test you completely forgot about, even as warning bells rang loud in your mind. It wasn't long before you started sitting with her and her friend Sarah at lunch, which led to being invited to the beach and the movies and sleepovers and just like that, you remembered what friendship felt like. For the first time, you felt like a normal teenager with a best friend that wasn't your sister and although you liked Sarah, Kiara was the one you were closest to, especially when you found out she hated the kook academy as much as you did.

"Fuck it," She said at one of your sleepovers, sitting on the floor at the end of your bed and rifling through your box of movies. "I'm done with acting like something I'm not, I'm done with being fake, and I'm done with rich kid politics." She tossed Legally Blonde in your direction and then joined you in leaning against the headboard as you slipped the DVD into your laptop.

"Yeah, this whole kook thing kind of sucks." You replied, tapping through the previews to the main menu. "That's why I don't give a shit."

"And that's why I'm so happy you're my friend, Y/N," Kiara said. "You're just yourself and don't try to change for anybody. It's cool."

Cursor hovering over the play button, you paused and glanced over at the other girl. "I'm happy you're my friend, too. I...I only really had my sister growing up so just...thanks, I guess. For being here."

Kiara pulled you into a fierce hug after your impromptu confession and you hugged her back, understanding for the first time what true friendship looked like.

More kids get added to your posse -three boys named John B, JJ, and Pope- after a catastrophic falling out with Sarah over her fiasco of a birthday party and from the very first time you met them, you realized the south side of the island was where you belonged. The pogues were unabashedly, unapologetically real and you felt the freest you'd ever been when you were hanging out with them and from the way Kiara seemed so much happier, you knew she felt the same way. Those kooks and their status quo could suck it.

You vowed you wouldn't let yourself get too attached to your new friends (cohorts, as your dad jokingly called them), lest you get your heart broken when your mom inevitably moved on to the next job in a year or two; despite her promise, you just had a feeling that it wouldn't last and wished you weren't always waiting for that other shoe to drop. You didn't plan on them becoming your second family and you definitely didn't plan on falling in love for the first time, but life always found new ways to surprise you.

You were fourteen when you started to notice that one of your friends was cute as fuck. To be honest, you thought all of your friends were pretty cute but there was something about JJ that made you flustered beyond belief every time he crossed your mind. You found yourself more than a little fixated on his golden hair, his bright blue eyes, and the way you always felt at your happiest when he was around; he lived like a wild, out of control hurricane and you wanted to get swept up in the eye of his storm, despite your brain telling you not to.

You never had crushes before, always too busy anticipating worrying about your family's next move to really look at anyone like that but you were definitely looking now while you tried to balance on JJ's surfboard in the gently bobbing waves, your trembling hands planted firmly on his -bare, tan, strong- shoulders as he held it steady.

"Lookin' good, Y/N," He looked up at you with a proud grin before glancing back down at your stance. "Just bend your knees a little more and you'll be perfect."

His praise, along with his calloused palms carefully adjusting your legs made your face feel hot and you shifted on the board to correct your balance, slowly raising your arms until you were standing, albeit a little wobbly, mostly on your own.

"Holy shit!" You yelled, the smile on your face growing more ecstatic at the encouraging cheers of your friends as they watched from the beach twenty feet away. "I'm doing it! I'm actually doing it!"

"Almost," JJ gave you another one of his killer smiles, the ones that you quickly found out made breathing normally quite the challenge, then let go of your knees to give the board a solid push forward. "Now you are!"

Frantically, you recalled everything he taught you that afternoon and managed to make it halfway to shore before you lost your balance and fell into the surf with a giddy laugh. "Guess I need a little more practice," You giggled as he splashed his way over and offered you a hand, a teasing glint in his blue eyes.

"Just a little?"

You flicked some water at him for that and your laugh grew when he wrapped you up in his arms and spun you around before flinging you both into the waves. The others immediately ran to join you and an all out war broke out, everyone splashing each other with no holds barred.

When he casually suggested giving you another lesson the next day as you all laid on the sand to catch your breath, you were unable to say no and the soft, dimpled smile on his face made your heart skip a beat in a way you'd never felt before. For the first time, you told the warning bells in your head to just shut the fuck up and allowed yourself to think about the future, to dream about what you could become and where you could be in two, five, even ten years. You let yourself have hope.

The next morning, you put on your favorite bikini -the green high waisted one that made your butt look good- and caught a ride with Daisy and Kelce to the beach, ignoring the teasing looks and jabs your sister sent your way and the sly smirk on her boyfriend's face.

"Hey, Juliet, looks like your Romeo's already waiting for you."

You rolled your eyes and hopped out of Kelce's Range Rover, flipping them both the bird behind your back without a second glance. As they drove away, their laughter followed you to where JJ was indeed waiting by the walkway to the shore, surfboard under his arm, and his face broke out into a wide grin when he laid eyes on you, one that you couldn't help returning.

"Sorry I'm late, my sister was being a bitch."

He laughed at that and reached out to take your hand, sending warm tingles through your whole body. "I was kinda worried you forgot about me, Y/N."

In a sudden burst of courage you didn't know you had, you laced your fingers with his and started pulling him toward the water as you sent him a wink over your shoulder. "I would never."

You started your lesson on the sand, reviewing how to stand up and balance on the board, before moving to the ocean. You catch your first waves on your stomach to get used to the movement and when you get comfortable with that you move to your knees and then your feet; each time JJ was there to catch you when you inevitably bit it, hugging you close to his bare chest and speaking enthusiastic words of encouragement in your ear, and with every passing try you became more and more confident until you finally nailed a small wave from beginning to end without falling on your ass.

"I did it!" In a flash, you jumped off the board and into his arms, your mouth curving into a joyful grin when he spun you in circles like yesterday with your own arms locked tight around his neck.

"Hell yeah you did!" The proud smile on his face made your stomach do a little flip and so did the way he held you close, his hands hooked under your thighs. "You're gonna be a pro in no time."

"Well," You said, twirling your fingers in the fine blond hair at his nape and hoping you didn't just imagine the shiver that ran down his spine. "I do have a great teacher."

His pretty blue eyes locked onto yours and you couldn't look away even if you wanted to (which you absolutely didn't). You'd been reading about moments like that ever since you were a kid, alone in your room with nothing better to do than drown yourself in overly sappy fanfiction until 2 AM, so you knew all about the magnetism, the butterflies, the invisible string tying two lovers together by fate, but it was just a fantasy, a pipe dream, something to yearn for when the loneliness became too much. Never in a million years did you imagine you would ever feel like that.

And yet you did. You felt it in your whole body, coursing through your veins like liquid fire, and when JJ started to lean in, you didn't hesitate to meet him halfway. It wasn't your first kiss -that happened two years ago when you were still living in Rhode Island, during a rare party you actually got invited to and with a pretty girl in your class- but it was the first that set every single one of your nerves alight. He held you tighter against him as your hands moved to cup his face, letting him deepen the kiss with a tilt of his head and the soft swipe of his tongue against your lips. You never thought you'd find yourself in the middle of a make out session in broad daylight and in full view of everyone on the beach but there you were, not giving a single shit about who was watching. All you cared about was memorizing every detail about the way he kissed you, the feel of his mouth on yours and the heat of his palms against your thighs, the rough touch of drying saltwater on his skin under your thumbs and that little noise he made low in his throat when you wrapped your legs tighter around his waist. You could've kissed him for hours (holy shit did you want to do that) and never run out of new idiosyncrasies to notice.

You pulled back some glorious time later with a breathless smile and swollen lips, heart racing against your ribcage and forehead pressed to JJ's as he smiled back, an endearing pink flushed across his face.

"I've wanted to do that for a while." His quiet admission made the butterflies in your stomach go haywire and you leaned down to kiss him once again, no longer able to deny yourself the happiness you longed for for years now that you'd had a taste; he returned the kiss and you laughed against his mouth as he spun you around before gently setting you on your feet in the surf, his forgotten board -thankfully still tethered to your ankle- bumping into your legs with every wave.

"Me, too."

"Good." He shot you a smile that make you weak in the knees and tucked a wayward strand of hair behind your ear, then it was his turn to lean down to press his lips to yours.

After that day, life was practically a dream. You had the greatest friends you could've asked for, your family was the happiest you'd ever seen them, and you had a boyfriend. A loyal, affectionate, chaotic boyfriend who somehow managed to keep you on your toes while being your guiding light all at once and you wondered how you got so lucky that a boy as wonderful as JJ wanted little old you, with all of your insecurities and shattered edges and tendencies to push people away when they got too close.

You told him that one day as you laid together on your bed, sharing lazy kisses in the warm late-summer sun streaming in through your window while Fleetwood Mac played quietly from your phone resting on the nightstand. Fall was in the air and with it came cool breezes and that nagging fear in the back of your mind that screamed none of it would last. It was the first time you cried in front of him -in front of anyone other than your sister- and he held you tight to his chest, hand running soothingly over your back as you let everything out in one massive, embarrassing flood of years of pent-up emotions.

Another thing your boyfriend was good at, you found out, was comfort. He didn't say anything as he hugged you close but he didn't need to, the fact that he was simply there and listening was all you needed from him. You spent your whole life living in the shadows until then, when he made you feel seen, heard, and important, validated, all without saying a single word and after your tears had run dry and you pulled your face away from his damp shirt, you killed that urge to flee and buried it so deep you hoped you'd never find it again.

That day, you poured out your heart for the first time to a person you knew in your very bones you could trust and received nothing but unconditional acceptance in return. JJ took you as you were, flaws and metaphorical scars, dark secrets and past mistakes, and you weren't quite fifteen yet but you wondered if that spark you felt in your blood when he kissed you was love.

It was less than a week later when he showed up at your door late at night, bruised and bloody, and the thrill of a clandestine meeting in your room faded the second you saw the small, pained smile he sent your way. Daisy, swapping roles with you for once, distracted your parents so you could sneak him upstairs like she did with Kelce practically every week and only when you were both safely hidden away in your room did you speak, keeping your voice as soft as your touch against his bruised cheek. "What happened?"

You cried in front of him for the second time when he finally answered, after you cleaned him up with the first aid kit your mom always kept under your bathroom sink and helped him change into some of your dad's old clothes your sister swiped from the laundry room ("if you need anything, just text me, 'k?" she said and you sent her a grateful smile before she left, quietly shutting the door behind her.). JJ was your echo as he spilled all his secrets, too, bringing his demons out of the deep blue darkness and into your golden daylight where they slowly burned to ash, little by little. You held him close, your legs tangled together and his head pillowed on your chest, and you ran your fingers through his hair over and over until he talked himself hoarse and his hands loosened their white-knuckled grip on your sweatshirt.

Words had never been your strong suit so you let your actions speak for you and gently wiped the tears from his cheeks with your thumbs, leaning down to press your lips to his forehead, then his closed eyelids, his nose, all over his face until there was no inch you hadn't kissed other than his mouth; you saved that for last, letting each delicate touch linger against his slightly chapped lips like bright beacons of light guiding him through a storm in hopes that he'll make it to shore.

"You'll always be safe with me."

You whispered it into his hair sometime later, through swollen lips that hurt in the best possible way and you felt his slow smile into the curve of your neck, his reply coming in the form of a soft and feather-light kiss against your heated skin. You fell asleep that night with your boyfriend wrapped up in your arms, safe and warm and far away from the father who hurt him in more ways than one.

Your parents, on the other hand, loved JJ so much to the point you thought they'd adopt him if they could, especially your dad. They were constantly inviting him over for dinner, fishing trips, movie nights: you name it, your parents wanted him there, and you were pretty sure he was spending even more time at your place than at John B's. He won the 'favorite boyfriend' category by default because Kelce barely made the 'tolerated' list, much to your and Daisy's amusement.

Despite that fact though, you still snuck JJ out your window that morning to meet him at the front door just as your mother was leaving for her shift at the hospital. Rebekah greeted him with her customary hug before touching his bruised cheek with a gentle hand and concern in her eyes.

"What happened, hon?"

He shrugged, expertly bullshitting some excuse about defending your honor when one of Kelce's friends started going off about how good your ass looked and it instantly appeased your dad, who reached over to clap your boyfriend on the shoulder.

"Good job, kid." Bill said with a pleased grin, then kissed his wife goodbye and headed back down the hall toward the living room. "Hear that, Daisy? Your boy needs to get better friends!"

"Dad!"

"Even better, just get a better boy in general!"

As your father and sister squabbled, your mother pulled you both into another fierce hug and whispered "You always have a place here," before she headed out the door; JJ looked a bit stunned at Rebekah's words and you reached over to give his hand a gentle squeeze, smiling softly when he slowly did it back.

Your parents weren't stupid. They knew your boyfriend didn't come from the best of homes but they loved him anyway, showering him in ordinary, everyday affection they knew he rarely got. You noticed it more and more as the months passed: your dad always asking him for help fixing Daisy's clunker of a car when it broke down and both would come inside with grease-stained hands and easy smiles, your mom keeping all the first aid kits fully stocked and hugging him a little tighter when he looked a little worse for wear, both of them making sure he was fed and safe and cared for like he deserved. Even Daisy had a penchant for leaving snacks on your bed like some sort of food fairy and offering to give rides to the beach or the Chateau, especially after she finally dumped Kelce and had, as she said, 'nothing better to do.'

And you? You fell harder each passing day, each moment you spent with him, each kiss that made your veins hum with white hot lightning. Of course, your friends teased you mercilessly but neither of you really minded, knowing that each joke was born pure joy at seeing you both together and happy (though you never missed an opportunity to be extra affectionate in front of everyone as revenge.). JJ continued to teach you how to surf until you could hold your own with the rest of the pogues and when you turned fifteen in late spring, they gave you the surprise of your life in the form of your very own board.

You stared in shock at the sea foam green board propped in the sand beside your friends,' gaping like a fish out of water as they all screamed "happy birthday, Y/N!" at the top of their lungs.

"You...you guys -are you for real?" You reached out to run your fingers over the smooth epoxy surface, the mounting pressure behind your eyes becoming harder and harder to ignore when you caught sight of your friends' identical bright grins. What did you do to deserve them?

"We figured it was time you had your own board instead of that shitty hand me down," John B said, ruffling your hair with brotherly affection that made your heart feel full. Pope nodded enthusiastically and added, "You're gonna improve so much with this -not that you weren't already, I mean!"

"She's already good 'cause she has me for a teacher," JJ said with an overexaggerated wink as he pulled you closer and planted a kiss on your cheek. "Taught her everything she knows."

"Oh, please, you just wanted to mack-"

"Taught her how to make out-"

"What they all mean to say, Y/N," Kiara interrupted, sending the boys a pointed look, then gave your shoulder a quick squeeze, "is that we love you. That word won't kill you guys to say, you know."

"I-I love you guys, too. All of you." You admitted thickly, hastily wiping away the tears you just realized were slipping down your face. It didn't scare you to say it. You didn't feel the urge to run or pretend you didn't care for them as much as they cared for you 'cause you loved your friends like you loved your sister, your parents, and the thought filled you with joy instead of terror. "I don't know how to thank you."

You suddenly found yourself in the middle of a colossal group hug, laughing and crying at the same time as four pairs of arms all tried to wrap around you at once. "How about you start by getting out there and showing us what you're made of?" John B said with a nod toward the ocean and you wiggled your way out of the tangle of limbs, darting forward to pull your new board from the sand.

"Come on, slowpokes," You called over your shoulder as you jogged toward the water, "You aren't gonna let the newbie have all the fun, right?"

The water was a bit too chilly for surfing but the five of you dove in anyway and you grinned so hard you were sure your face would split in two when you nailed your first wave to the rest of the pogues' cheers. You all surfed until the cold was too much to bear before packing up and heading back to your house, where you spent the rest of your birthday surrounded by all of the people you'd ever loved, making s'mores around the campfire in your backyard.

"I meant what I said earlier." You blurted when JJ was the only one around to hear it, the others already headed inside for the night. The two of you laid together on a blanket beside the dying fire as you stared up at the stars and when you spoke, he tore his gaze from the sky to focus on you, one eyebrow raised in the cutest confused expression you'd ever seen.

"Meant what?"

Maybe it was the look in those pretty blue eyes of his or the feel of his fingers running through your hair or your brain remembering every single moment you'd ever shared with him all at once but something screamed at you to say those words, the ones you'd been thinking about saying to his face for a long time. Though you'd already said them earlier, this time was different -so, so different- and you took a deep breath, fighting away the nerves that made your hand tremble as you cupped his face and ran your thumb over his cheekbone.

"I love you."

The funny thing about words: once they're out in the air, there's no taking them back. These words, though? You never wanted to take them back. Ever.

"I love you, too."

It wasn't like the movies. Fireworks didn't go off, the world didn't stop spinning on its axis, nothing magically clicked into place, but you did feel the most wonderful warmth you could ever imagine slowly sinking into your bones when he said it back, the soft smile on his flushed face snatching the very breath from your lungs. He loved you. You loved him. It was simple, uncomplicated, effortless and you smiled into his kiss with the moon and stars as your witnesses.

Summer came again, setting you and Kiara free from the hell known as the kook academy and its rich kid hierarchy and the two of you ran wild -from sunrise to sunset- with your boys at your sides, like birds escaping their cages or horses let loose in the grasslands, untamed and thirsty for adventure. It had only just begun and yet you already knew it was the best summer of your life.

Your dad, a man able to make friends with a rock, struck up a camaraderie with Sarah's father of all people during a deep sea fishing trip and snagged five invitations to some fancy party called Midsummers.

Kiara nearly had a coronary when you shared the news, her face lighting up like a kid on Christmas morning. "Oh, thank God!" She breathed, sitting up on her towel and pushing her sunglasses up onto her forehead. "Maybe I'll actually have a good time for once."

The two of you were relaxing on the beach, taking a break while the boys surfed and you turned away from admiring your boyfriend's bare back to look her in the eye. "So what you're saying is-"

"-it fucking sucks. Just..." She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. "a bunch of bourgeoise pigs throwing a party to stroke their overinflated egos."

You groaned and flopped back onto your towel, throwing your arm over your eyes. "Great, a night of rich people being rich people."

Kiara laughed and reached over to grab a bottle of water from the cooler. "You have no idea."

Despite her misgivings, the party wasn't as bad as you thought it would be. Sure, the general stench of opulence and wasted money -so much wasted money- was overbearing and quite frankly disgusting but you did your best to ignore it, focusing instead on having a great time with two of your best friends, making fun of the kooks and sneaking liquor when the adults weren't looking. One of those friends happened to be your boyfriend and you found it very, very hard to keep your eyes off him in that suit of his, with his hair slicked back in just the right way that made your knees weak; JJ couldn't stop staring at you either and you'd lost count of how many times you glanced over to find him already looking at you, something you'd never seen before behind his gaze. You wanted -needed- to find out what it was and you were hoping you would tonight, even if you didn't exactly know how.

"Why don't you two take a picture? It'll last longer." Kiara said sarcastically and you flicked your eyes down to your lap, smoothing a non-existent wrinkle in your deep green dress to hide your embarrassment. What was it about that damn suit that made you feel so flustered?

"You know me, Kie," JJ replied, grabbing your hand and tugging you toward the dance floor. "I like to live in the moment." He grinned down at you and you couldn't help smiling back, giggling as he twirled you under his arm before pulling you close, resting his other hand low on your back.

"I didn't know you were such a good dancer," You said, letting him lead you in a simple waltz across the cool grass.

"Well, I'm not but I might've spent the last week practicing with your sister while Kie distracted you." He admitted casually, shooting a thumbs up over your shoulder and you turned to find Daisy grinning in your direction as she swayed with some guy (Daniel, you thought, or maybe Deke? You weren't sure.) you'd seen hanging around the pool a few times. 'You're welcome,' She mouthed before spinning under her partner's arm, her wine-colored dress fanning out around her legs and you smiled wider, twirling back into your boyfriend's embrace and surging up onto your tiptoes to press your lips to his.

He dipped you low as he returned your kiss, grinning against your mouth when you flung your arms around his neck in surprise, your fingers holding tight to the collar of his suit jacket. "You did all that for me?" You asked once your feet were firmly back on the ground and your heart skipped a beat as his hands brushed the skin exposed by the low-cut back of your dress.

"Anything for you, Y/N."

Later, after dancing until your shoes started to dig uncomfortably into your toes, the two of you snuck down to the beach, your heels in your hands and two stolen drinks in JJ's. You felt a bit guilty ditching Kiara but from the wink she sent your way as you passed by, you were pretty sure she didn't really mind. The sand was cool on your legs through the thin layers of your skirt and yet you felt nothing but warm, both from his arm around your shoulders and the alcohol burning down your throat.

"Shit," You coughed, regretting following your boyfriend's example by knocking the whole thing back at once and playfully jabbing your elbow in his side when he outright laughed at your struggle. "I'm not used to drinking straight...whatever this is."

"It's bourbon, babe." He took the glass from your hand and set it aside before tucking you closer against him to ward off the slight chill of the mellow ocean breeze. "Don't worry, I still love you even if you can't take shots."

"Ha ha. Love you, too, you jerk." You rested your head on his shoulder after they stopped shaking with laughter, perfectly happy to sit in silence together and watch the waves crash against the shore. A pleasant tingle flooded through your body after the bourbon finally stopped burning and you realized you liked the feeling, even if it paled in comparison to the high you reached when he kissed you, when he ran his hand through your hair, when he made it crystal clear you were loved.

"Hey, Y/N?"

JJ's voice pulled you out of your thoughts and you shifted your head to look up at him, hooking one of your ankles around his. "Yeah?"

"Gimme your hand."

You obliged, your confusion slowly melting away into something more closely resembling pure, unadulterated affection as he tied a bracelet around your wrist. And not just any bracelet, you noticed when you brought it closer to your face to examine it in the dim, distant light of the party: this one was obviously, beautifully handmade, woven with threads in shades of green, blue, and tan and tied off with two green beads on each end. You ran your thumb over a spot where the intricate motif was just a little messed up and smiled when JJ looked embarrassed, the tips of his ears turning red.

"Yeah, sorry about that, I was in a hurry and fucked up the pattern," He confessed sheepishly, spinning a similar bracelet around his own wrist. "I was gonna give it to you on your birthday but I kind of underestimated how long it took to make-"

"It's perfect." You interrupted, tackling him onto the sand with your arms around his neck as you pressed a quick kiss to the corner of his mouth, leaving a bright red lipstick mark behind. "I love it. I love you."

The smile he sent you was one of unabashed relief and he slid his fingers into your hair to pull you down for another kiss. "I love you, too."

For awhile after that, you let your lips do the talking in a different way and you made out on the beach for -surprisingly- only the second time until you rolled onto your back and accidentally got a little sand in your underwear (he laughed at that but you immediately got your revenge by stuffing a handful down the front of his shirt). You snuck back to the party hand in hand to drop off the forgotten glasses and wave a quick goodbye to Kiara, who just smirked at your smudged lipstick and the golden crown of leaves sitting crooked on your head, before walking toward your house a mile down the road. Well, JJ walked, you hitched a ride on his back when he wouldn't take no for an answer.

"Babe, your feet hurt and you have sand in your ass. No way in hell I'm letting you walk."

You just smiled against his shoulder and let him carry you the rest of the way to your house and then even up the stairs to your room as you fired off a text to Daisy letting her know where you disappeared to. She sent 'check your dresser, thank me later' with a winking emoji back and you felt your face get hot when you caught sight of the small box tucked into the corner of the drawer, quickly placing the phone facedown on your bedside table before tossing your shoes onto the floor by your closet and carefully pulling the crown from your messy hair.

"Thanks for the ride, my feet and ass are in your debt."

"Let's make out again and I'll consider that debt paid."

You laughed but gave in 'cause hell, you really wanted to keep making out, too. You pushed JJ backwards until his knees hit your bed and you ended up on his lap, your hands pushing the suit jacket off his shoulders as you leaned down to kiss him. He slid the pins from your hair one by one until it fell around your face and he tangled his fingers in it, pulling your head back so he could trail his lips down the sensitive skin of your neck and you gasped, pausing in the middle of trying to undo the bowtie around his neck.

Something shifted in the air then and you knew that once you took that next step, there'd be no turning back but you were ready to meet it head on as you finished with his tie and tossed it behind you, then started on the buttons of his shirt. That look from earlier was in his eyes again and you nodded, smiling in anticipation when you finally understood what it meant and he languidly slipped one of the straps of your dress off your shoulder.

You bared your body like you bared your soul and soon there was no part of you that he didn't know. You learned every part of him, too and together you brought each other to a high you'd never felt before. It wasn't perfect, of course, but it was perfect to you: every awkward, beautiful touch, when you breathed his name like that for the first time, the way your hands clutched his hair like a lifeline. You were burning up from the inside out, every single nerve on fire and blazing brilliantly under your heated skin and you'd never felt more alive when you came undone in his arms.

In the afterglow, you laid wrapped up together like the woven bracelets you both wore, JJ's fingers steadily tracing the curve of your bare hip as yours soothed the darkening red mark you'd left behind on his neck. The fairy lights strung above your bed cast soft, welcoming shadows all around, highlighting that wonderful look in his eyes, open and awed and oh so loving and you knew your gaze held the same.

"I'm, I-" He started, then shook his head and leaned down to place a lingering kiss on your cheek. "I just -shit."

"Whoa, you're speechless," You teased, sweeping a wayward strand of sweaty blond hair away from his forehead. "Guess I really blew your mind, huh?"

"Fucking fried it." He shook his head again with the dopiest, dreamiest smile you'd ever seen and you giggled as he pulled you closer, calloused palm flat against the small of your back. "I'm so fucking in love with you. Straight up head over heels, babe."

You smiled even wider at his words and how they ignited that flame burning inside you once again. "Good thing I'm fucking head over heels, hopelessly in love with you, too." You replied and pushed him back onto the bed, swinging a leg over his thighs so you were the one on top this time. "And I'm gonna blow your damn mind again."

You weren't sure what you expected life to be like after you had sex for the first time. You'd always heard it was this momentous occasion, that you'd suddenly feel like a real woman or whatever stupid label society came up with to further control girls and their sexuality but honestly, you still felt like the same person. All those rom-coms and their jokes about having that look after getting laid were total and complete bullshit, you realized; to you, sex was just a different, more intimate way to show your love and you just happened to like showing it often (and luckily JJ did, too). You flaunted it in other ways, too, his bandanas tied in your hair and shirts in your closet, your necklaces resting against his collarbone and bracelets you learned to make around his wrists, but there was nothing like the marks you left on each other's skin -necks, inner arms, hipbones- when you were alone together in the dark.

Life went on. Months flew by and things were nearly perfect for you: great friends, good grades, a wonderful relationship with your loving boyfriend. The girl of your past, the one who kept to herself and avoided anything that had to do with being vulnerable like the plague was dead and gone and in her place was the person you always wanted to be. You were happy -ridiculously, deliriously happy- sixteen and so in love with the life you built that you'd almost forgotten about your mom's tendency to relocate your family every few years; that nagging thought was still in the back of your mind but you refused to let it control your life with fear of losing everything -everyone- you'd come to love.

But you knew how the saying went: the bigger you are, the harder you fall.

The higher you climb on an unstable mountain, the more it hurts when it inevitably crumbles beneath you.

Your mountain didn't just crumble: it was violently torn apart, ripped into pieces by a devastating earthquake, a destructive landslide caused by the one person who promised she wouldn't hurt you anymore but the catalyst that unintentionally set it in motion came from someone you never expected: your sister.

Daisy graduated from the kook academy and got accepted into her dream school, UCLA, alongside her boyfriend Daniel (see, you knew his name wasn't Deke) but you didn't think too much of it. After all, you knew that day would come eventually, the day your big sister would head off to college and leave you, her shadow, behind but the thought didn't fill you with dread like it used to. You had friends, a found family to soothe the inescapable sting of the Daisy-shaped hole in your heart and keep your spirits high when she hopped on that plane to California in the fall.

You still had the summer though and you made it count, days spent with your friends and nights spent with your sister, doing all the things you used to do together when you were little; watching movies, playing games, making a total mess in the kitchen when you baked batches and batches of cookies that had both your boyfriend and hers always hanging around like dogs begging for scraps. You and Daisy started putting them to work the second they ate two dozen snickerdoodles by themselves (Daniel was an excellent cook while JJ was a total disaster) and those nights always ended with the four of you squished together on the couch, wrapped in blankets and cookies and warmth while a scary movie played on in the background.

The day before Daisy left for LA, you met your parents and sister at The Wreck for what you thought would be your last family dinner until Thanksgiving break but it turned out you were the only one who believed that. You should've known something was wrong the second your dad didn't even make a joke about your friends dropping you off in John B's rust bucket of a van or when JJ pulled you back in for a kiss that was just a little bit too risque for the public eye (You'd laughed when John B and Pope both pretended to gag and just kissed him harder, not giving a single shit about who saw, even your parents.). You should've known when your mother's smile was a little strained or when your sister wouldn't meet your eyes. You should've known but you stupidly didn't see the signs and that made Rebekah's words so much harder to swallow.

"We're moving to California."

You dropped the loaded nacho in your hand back onto your plate as you stared at her, gaping like a fish. "E-Excuse me but what the actual fuck?"

"Language, Y/N."

"I don't give a shit about my language, Mom, I give a shit about the fact that you broke your promise!" You hissed, roughly pushing your plate away and almost knocking your glass of water over.

"Sweetheart-"

"You promised."

Your mother winced at the tightness of your voice and how you snatched your clenched fist out from under her hand. "I know, dear, but I couldn't pass on this offer and I know how much you're going to miss your sister-"

"Yeah, I'll miss Daisy but I don't want to move across the country just to be near her! God, let her be her own person for once!"

"Y/N-"

"And what about me, huh? I'm happy here! This is my home! I have friends, a boyfriend -I'm not leaving!"

"Honey, I understand you're upset-"

"Do you?" You interrupted your dad with a bitter laugh, fighting the tears you felt pricking at your eyes. "Do you understand what you're forcing me to lose?"

Bill looked away as Kiara arrived with your food and set the plates down in awkward silence. You gave her a tight smile when she quickly patted your back and then returned to the kitchen, sending you a concerned glance over her shoulder before she disappeared through the double doors and you turned to face Daisy.

"Day, did you know?" Your sister avoiding your sudden, sharp gaze was all the answer you needed and your heart dropped like an anchor, weighing heavy on your stomach. You felt sick. You felt furious. But most of all, you felt betrayed.

Suddenly, the sight of your favorite meal in front of you wasn't so appetizing anymore and you abruptly stood, your chair scraping roughly against the floor. Heads turned to look in your direction but you ignored their curious stares as you snarled with all the venom you could muster across the table at your mother, "I knew I never should've trusted a word you said."

You turned away from her hurt expression -the sheer audacity she had, acting like she was the one whose heart was shattering- and ran out the front door of The Wreck before anyone could stop you, pretending not to hear their voices calling after your retreating back. You didn't know where your feet were taking you but you really didn't care, just as long as it was far, far away from your family.

You ran until your aching legs forced you to stop and you doubled over, hands on your thighs as you tried to catch your breath and it wasn't until you saw the water dripping onto the sidewalk beneath you did you realize you were crying. Footsteps slowed to a stop beside you and your braced yourself to hear Daisy's apology or worse, your mother's, but got Kiara's winded voice instead.

"Did you ever think about doing cross country? 'Cause holy shit," She gasped with her hands on her hips. "You can run."

Despite feeling like your whole fucking world was falling apart around you, you still managed a snort of laughter at your friend's remark and eagerly returned her embrace when she wrapped her arms around your shoulders, burying your face against her neck. She held you as you cried, running a soothing hand up and down your back until the rest of your friends pulled up in the Volkswagen and you found yourself crying on a different shoulder, one you knew better than your own.

The white hot fury had left your body and now all you felt was numb. Numb and empty and hollow as you quietly explained everything on the ride back to the Chateau, avoiding your friends' sympathetic stares by playing with a loose thread at the bottom of JJ's shirt. He ran a hand through your hair while you leaned against him and you let his touch slowly bleed life back into your heart.

"You're not leaving, okay? My parents love you so you can stay with me." Kiara declared later as you all lounged around the bonfire, passing a joint back and forth.

"Or me. My dad would probably let you stay if you helped out around the shop," Pope piped up, handing it over to you without taking a drag as John B added, "Me, too. We have an extra room."

"Tijuana's always nice, too, babe." JJ suggested, grabbing your hand holding the joint and bringing it to his mouth so he could take a hit. "Just a thought."

You smiled softly and took your own hit, slowly blowing smoke into the air. "You guys are the best. I doubt my parents'll change their minds...but I guess it wouldn't hurt to try." It would definitely hurt if your desperate bid to stay didn't work but you tried not to think about that and focused instead on having a good time with your friends, forgetting all about your phone that was switched to silent and burning a hole in your purse.

Later, after the others headed inside for the night and it was just you and JJ left, you were reminded of your fifteenth birthday. You'd laid like you were now, on a blanket under the stars beside a dying fire and you told him you loved him for the first time and as much as it tore you apart to know it might all come to an end, you didn't regret it. You didn't regret befriending Kiara back in eighth grade or letting the pogues become so important to you or falling so hard for the boy holding you in his arms. And right then, all you wanted to do was hold onto that feeling by showing him your love and getting loved in return.

You propped yourself up on your elbow and leaned down to kiss him, your other hand slipping under his shirt in the flickering glow of the flames and you smiled against his lips when he immediately rolled onto his back so you were on top, his hand doing some exploring of its own under your sundress.

"I don't want to feel anything but you tonight." You answered the question in his eyes when you broke apart some time later, both breathing heavily with your skirt hitched up over your thighs and his shirt tossed somewhere on the grass behind you. "Please."

"Here?"

You'd never fucked outside before but you figured now would be the perfect time to try and to be honest, you were too impatient to make it to a bed so you nodded, slowly rolling your hips against his. "Right here."

You lost yourself in the ardent touch of his calloused hands with the haze of smoke hanging in the cool night air, letting everything slip away until he was the only thing that remained. He was all you needed, tan skin slick with sweat and mouth searing hot, your nails trailing scratches down his back while your lips left smudged marks of blood red on his face. He took you higher and higher, doing exactly what you asked him to, over and over until you nearly forgot your own name and when you finally came back down, he held you close until your limbs stopped shaking and your heart slowed back to its normal rhythm.

"I don't want to lose you." You admitted quietly into the dark, wiping at a stubborn lipstick stain on the corner of his mouth and your thumb caught on his lip when JJ shook his head, then leaned down to drop a kiss at your hairline.

"You won't."

You wanted to believe him so badly it hurt but you didn't know if you could so instead you threaded your fingers through his hair and pulled him down to press your mouth to his, his cheek, his jawline, everywhere you could reach, drowning yourself in the right now in hopes that the future would never come.

"I love you, Y/N. Don't you dare forget it." He whispered it against the shell of your ear before trailing his lips down your neck and the light scrape of his teeth on your skin turned your voice into a breathless sigh as you repeated his words into the air, your back arching from the blanket when he hit a particularly sensitive spot and sent electricity racing through your veins. You may have spoken your love softly but you showed it fiercely, each touch a little harder than the last, each kiss a little rougher and together you burned through the dark like a funeral pyre.

Hope was a dangerous thing to feel; it was fragile and delicate, hard to keep but oh so easy to lose for someone like you, a girl who spent her whole life searching for a home, only to have it ripped away when she finally found it. It didn't matter what you said or how much you cried or even when Kiara and her parents advocated on your behalf, your time on the island was up and just like that, whatever hope you had left disappeared into thin air and left you wondering if you'd ever get it back again.

tagging some mutuals who might be interested: @sinkbeneathwaves @jiaraendgame @sunnypogue @alexa-playafricabytoto @maybanks

#outer banks #obx fic #jj maybank #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x y/n #obx imagine #outer banks imagine #obx netflix #jj x reader #obx x reader #jj imagine

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timextoxhajima · 4 years

Audio

Playlist Feels

Member: *at the point of writing this i haven’t yet decided but i went out today and this song started playing and my heart just starting beATInG SO faST

*update: ended up settling for san

A/N: I won’t write smut/anything aggressive for jongho (or any ‘00 liner for that matter) so until they turn 21 internationally, i’ll refrain from writing anything nasty. this goes for other idols who are ‘00 liners and younger.

Genre: shitty-ass angst, aggressive shoving lol idk, what’s a desire-inspired fic if there’s no smut heh (lowkey fifty shades vibes irdk what im doing at this point of time) *kind reminder that it’s been too fucking long since i’ve written some smexy smut so please bear with me ;_;

Word Count: 3.6k

you could almost smell the money that everybody in the room collectively have under their belts. everybody was fitted in suits and extravagant gowns and blazers and dresses-- it was difficult to believe that these people would ever wear anything else besides whatever they were wearing now.

your parents had gone off to greet the older, more important people of the organisation, or bureau, or whatever group that coordinated this event was called. you were stuck staring at your glass of champagne while your fiance picks at the little nuts in the tray that was sitting in the middle of the small table.

fiance, more like annoying family friend you’ve been actual friends with for nearly ten years.

“do me a favour and cut it out, would you?” you glare at him through your long, false lashes, bringing the champagne glass to your lips and taking a sip. mingi looks at you and pouts, quickly throwing a nut into his mouth before he wipes the crumbs away on his shit-expensive Saint Laurent blazer.

you groan under your breath, rolling your eyes so hard that you could see the insides of your head.

“who picked out the gown? i know you have a thing against gowns so why’d you let them fit you in this one?” mingi munches on the nut and nods towards your fit. you don’t bother to look down at yourself, because you couldn’t stand the sight of it.

the v-neck cutting was so low down your chest that if you pulled it aside with any considerable amount of strength, your chest would’ve been exposed.

it didn’t help that the gown was red, and on top of that, there was a long, ridiculous slit up the dress by your left leg.

it’s like you were a walking target.

“does it look like i had much of a choice?” you eye him with an annoyed look, finishing whatever was left of the champagne. “in fact, i don’t even remember the last time i made a decision for myself. fun.”

mingi gives you a pathetic smile and wraps his arm around your shoulders, the soft material of his blazer grazing against your skin.

someone pushes the door open to the function room, and everybody around starts making their way in. your heels would’ve been caught stepping on your gown, so mingi offers you and arm to hold while you grab a bunch of material with your free hand to make walking easier.

your fiance helps you settle into your seat before sitting down next to you. the function room starts filling up, every now and then some ceo or businessman or someone walks by your table and you have no choice but to stand up to greet them.

but all you wanted to do was to go home to the comfort of your bed and binge watch your favourite series.

not stand here, in the middle of a function room in the country’s most expensive hotel, and let these middle-aged, possibly married-with-children, men caress your hands like they didn’t already know you had a fiance.

“you seem to have a way around men, don’t you?” mingi teases quietly, helping you push the chair in as you sat down from shaking some stranger’s hand.

“it’s the dress, and the hair and the make up. otherwise, i’m pretty sure they don’t give a fuck.”

mingi sucks on his teeth at your straightforward statement, noting that your parents were coming round the table. you look up to search for them upon mingi’s announcement, and you notice they were talking to another couple with their children trailing closely behind them.

“oh god, another one--” you spit under your breath. mingi elbows you a little, standing up and cuing you to do the same as your parents come by with the other couple and their clearly-uninterested son and overly-enthusiastic daughter.

“mingi, y/n, this is mr and mrs choi, and this is choi haneul and choi san,” your mother gestures to them as the couple reaches out for a handshake. you and mingi take turns to shake their hands, including the two children.

you were so used to faking a smile that you were sure nobody could’ve been able to tell you absolutely hated being here.

but your ‘service’ smile struggles to remain loyal to your need to be the perfect chaebol when you catch their son staring at you, with eyes that could kill.

you reach your palm out to him, and he takes your hand with a firm grip.

you almost feel something similar to static, but you shake it off by giving him a bright smile.

he reciprocates, offering you a wide grin that exposes his dimples and folded his eyes into long, slits.

that 180 degree switch... psycho.

you pull away, and you feel his reluctance to let go for a split second.

a frown appears on your forehead in that instant, but he releases your hand quickly, as if noticing the change of expression on your face.

your parents wave them off as they make their way to another table. you return to your seat, now sitting between mingi and your mother who just wouldn’t shut up about the choi family.

something about splitting the company into two so each their children gets an equal half.

something about them being very capable.

blah blah blah...

the function hall gets filled up and every table was fully occupied. name tags were placed on tables by the seats the guests were allocated, and your eyes run through the many names and titles. you couldn’t find a single one that didn’t have a big company name attached to them.

mingi humors you the entire dinner, and being your only source of entertainment, you couldn’t help but still feel lucky that he was chosen to be your fiance.

there were so many things about being a chaebol that was so wrong and so pathetic, and mingi knew very well how much you hated it. both of you grew up as childhood friends, for the sole reason that both your parents were partners in an important project.

so big, rich people gatherings? your weekend plans for almost ten years straight.

when you were told that a marriage was in plan for you though, you remember threatening to run away from home unless your fiance was mingi.

and since mingi was a chaebol himself, your parents were more than happy to let the both of you get engaged, even if the two of you didn’t actually love one another.

there was some dumb auction going on with the mc yelling into the damn mic every ten minutes, not even giving you the peace of day to eat your food that took forever to come. mingi tries to get you involved by raising your name tag, helping you offer three million for a premium yacht.

you hiss at him, nearly giving him a slap across the face when you won it.

your mother reminds you not to have too much wine and champagne, but you didn’t even want to be here in the first place. you were going to get married into the song family anyway, so it gave you the courage and liberty to do whatever the hell you wanted.

you were so used to drinking champagne and wine that mingi doesn’t stop you until your face finally flushed bright red, and you were beginning to smile and giggle at the mc.

an unfamiliar sight for your fiance.

“do you need to go to the washroom to get yourself together? you look tipsy,” mingi leans into your ear and asks with concern. his question pulls out an ugly look on your face, and you reach for your champagne glass, only to realise that it was empty.

you huff in disappointment. mingi gives you a blank look, knowing that you weren’t done with whatever attitude you had up your sleeve tonight.

“i’m gonna hurl out all that fucking champagne and you better have my glass refilled when i get back,” you try to whisper to mingi, but you belch out all the gas that was in your stomach.

“disgusting--” mingi winces at the scent of the alcohol. you laugh, pushing yourself out of the seat and grabbing your purse, leaning over to your parents to inform them you were heading for the washroom.

it was a good thing you weren’t drunk, but you definitely would be if you had returned for more champagne had you not stuffed your finger down your throat. you wretched loudly, knowing that you deliberately searched for the most out-of-the-way washroom in the building, and there was nobody around to hear those inhumane noises. expensive liquid flushes out your throat and you choke on the sight. the burning sensation wasn’t a good experience, but you couldn’t be any less bothered.

you lick your lips, still cautious that you had lipstick on. turning around, you struggle to your feet and head over to the sink, head hanging low and palms pressed flat against the marble surface.

you gather the tap water in your hand, slurping it up to try and get rid of the taste of stomach acid and alcohol in your mouth.

didn’t help.

you mutter some curse words under your breath, looking back up at the mirror to fix your hair and your lipstick, pulling your shoulders back so you were standing with the posture your mother spent most of your life scolding you about.

you take a step out of the washroom, and your eyes were so occupied with mentally berating the hell out of your obscene dress that you physically ram yourself into someone’s shoulder.

the impact throws your balance off completely, but you feel an arm snake around your waist just moments before you got fall flat on the ground.

“oh, you.”

you fidget with uneasiness, anxiously getting your balance back in check and shoving him off you. you look down at yourself, making sure your boobs were still under the material and your slit didn’t get any higher up your thighs.

“you’re welcome, by the way.”

you return your attention to choi san, who now had a sneaky smirk drawn across his lips. he was in an all white fit, with small black details like his cuff links and black gemstone accentuating his entire look.

“sorry.”

you clear your throat, feeling your face flush from the realisation that you could’ve been completely fucked over by your parents if they saw the way you responded.

‘that’s no way of thanking someone,” they’d say.

“what are you doing here anyway? it’s such a far walk from the function hall.”

you raise a cocky brow, tongue looking for small bits of food stuck in the crevices of your teeth. you couldn’t be bothered to maintain your image now that you’ve already acted like he was molesting you.

“me? i could ask you the same,” you tilt your head to the side, hands looking for the slit of your dress to push aside. you wouldn’t want to trip on your walk away from him.

“i don’t like these functions. i like meeting people but i definitely don’t like watching them spend their money on ridiculous items.”

you sigh, wondering how long you were going to be stuck in this meaningless conversation with him.

“you do realise the proceeds all go to charity anyway, don’t you?”

“is that why you bought the premium yacht for three million?”

“no, my fiance used my name.”

“so you’re saying you didn’t want to provide the financial assistance to charity?”

your eyes harden at his accusation, and you couldn’t be more frustrated. if you weren’t in your obscene v-neck gown with that useless slit up your thighs, you would’ve already gotten your heels off to whack him on the head.

all your emotions must’ve been put up for display all across your face, because choi san flashes you a devilish grin, eradicating any hint of his dimple-smile from before.

the same 180 change.

“my family and i do enough charity every year. this three million doesn’t mean shit,” you take a step forward, not letting his demonic presence faze you. he was just about a few inches taller than you, so confronting him like this was nothing compared to mingi.

“so, mr choi,” you hiss under your breath, your nose just right under his. “if you’ve got nothing else constructive to say, then do excuse me. i have an event to be at.”

you gave it a few moments for him to flinch or react, but he fails. you smirk to yourself, convinced that you’ve won this showdown. you turn, ready to walk away from him, but he grabs your arm just as you walk past him and wraps his arm around your waist. if he had invested more effort into the act, he would’ve easily picked you up.

“what the fuck-- let me go!” you try thrashing yourself out of his grip, but he only pulls you harder into the hidden lift around the corner. you try to make a run for the door before it closes, but he holds you back as he hits a button on the lift panel.

he shoves you up against the wall, your rear resting against the bar that lined the walls where people could hold. he rests his palms on the bar on either sides of your hips, and he pushes his face dangerously close to yours.

you were fuming at this psycho, but deep down in your heart, you knew you were the one to blame for inciting it.

“you know...” he drags a finger down your earlobe and your jawline. it takes you awhile to realise that you were slowly turning away from him, gradually becoming unable to continue this power play with him. “you haven’t said ‘thank you’.”

you scoff, eyes shifting to meet his without turning your head. you wipe your canine teeth with your tongue, trying your best to read his face.

but all you could see was that devilish grin you don’t think you were ever going to forget.

you try to hold back from saying anything, knowing that every word you said from this moment on was going to decide his next move. but you were angry with this piece of shit, and your temper invites you to spit out the words you had on the tip of your tongue.

“or what?”

i should not have said that.

“that’s completely up to you.”

choi san smirks again, and you’ve never seen someone look so lustfully challenged before. the look in his eyes was enough to rile you up to it as well. though your head was screaming at you, telling you to stop, but your heart and body say otherwise.

he sucks in a deep breath as he takes a step back, letting the lift doors open to the hallway where all the suites were.

you expected him to grab your wrist and pull you along, but he doesn’t. confusion wasn’t the right word to describe the overwhelming feeling that ate you up, and you hated yourself for it.

you watch in dissatisfaction as he calmly walks out of the lift and walks down about four doors. he stops right outside the cream colored door, his white fit contrasting the brown hallways, and turns to look at you.

that devilish smile was gone, replaced with a look you couldn’t begin to describe.

you feel your stomach churn as he reaches up to his neck and starts to undo the top few buttons, exposing his collarbone. his free hand pulls out a card from the inside of his blazer, and he gets the door open.

your hands were balled up into fists, and you could still feel his trace on your jaw as you watched him walk into the room.

don’t do it.

you suck in a deep breath, frozen in place.

don’t fucking do it. he knows exactly what he’s doing.

the lift doors begin to shut.

don’t. do. it.

your needs and desires engulf you like flames in a burning building, and you found yourself storming straight into the suite, eyes only searching for him. before you could even notice the size of the room, you were shoved backwards against the carpeted wall.

hands were hungrily searching your body for any crevice for him to dig into, and you could already feel your lipstick getting smudged between both your lips.

his fingers find the material of your dress that goes over your shoulders instead, and he doesn’t hesitate to pull them down your arms. you struggle to get his white blazer off, completely ignoring the rare gem that was pinned above his breast pocket.

you were already running out of breath, teeth clashing and your tongues messily swirling around each other as his hands find the zip on your back. by the time your dress pools around your feet, you get the buttons on his shirt undone.

you run your hands down his chest and toned stomach, but was interrupted by him picking you up against the wall. he doesn’t hesitate to attach his lips to your breasts like a hungry kitten, and the heat between the two of you becomes nearly impossible to contain.

his hair gets tangled in your fingers, desperately trying to find something to grip while lewd sounds escape your lips.

“you must not like losing,” he pulls you away from the wall, eyes looking up at you as he walks elsewhere in the room. you expected yourself to be thrown on a bed, but instead you find yourself pressed up against the window panel of the room, with the city right below your feet.

“don’t you fucking dare,” you threaten with a low voice. but you hear him scoff, arm wrapped around your waist as he positions himself so that you were pressed flat against his chest and your breasts against the cold surface of the window.

“but i already did.”

he whispers into your ear, somehow finding both your wrists and holding them in one hand while the other snakes down your stomach and under the only piece of clothing you were wearing.

you bite on your bottom lip, shutting your eyes tightly upon the contact of his fingers on your sensitive spot. you hear him chuckle and he realises that you had absolutely no control over what your body needed - or wanted.

“aren’t you going to tell me that you have a fiance?” his voice was low, and almost threatening. he hooks your underwear by the side and pulls it off the curve of your rear, letting it pool around the heels you were still wearing.

you gulp and huff heavily, listening to him undo his belt while your wrists were still trapped in his left hand.

“answer the question, mrs song.” he presses his already hardened manhood against your core, and the contact sends chills up your spine to your head. you could feel yourself slowly losing all sense of control by the second, and him psychologically pushing you into a corner to make you submit to him wasn’t helping.

“we could always stop now, and you could go back to the function hall like nothing happened.”

now you don’t feel the material of his underwear, but the bare skin of his manhood rubbing against your naked core. the sensation finally pushes you over the edge, and you choose your desires over the fucking obligations you were born with.

“please don’t stop.”

you brace yourself as he pushes himself into you, and he doesn’t give you much time to process the explosive feelings of need in your abdomen. picking up his pace, you feel his grip on your wrists tightening as the excessive thrusting pushes you nearer and nearer against the glass.

you hear nothing but the obscene sounds of skin slapping against skin, and the combination of the mewls and groans the both of you were offering one another.

his free hand finds your sensitive nub, and the combination of his ramming into you with the circles drawn with pressure pushes you closer to your climax. your legs tremble under the overwhelming feeling, and he finally releases your wrists. he wraps his arm around your waist, holding you up while he continues fucking you against the window.

you feel the weight in your abdomen get heavier after every thrust, and your irregular moans tell him that you were reaching your high.

something inside you snaps, and you raise your head to look at the window, water vapour already collected in messy patterns on the surface.

he pulls out and you feel his load landing on your lower back, the only sounds you could hear now was the panting from the both of you.

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

you take your seat between mingi and your mother again, legs still shaking ever so slightly, and you were hoping nobody was going to notice that your hair didn’t look at neat as it was before.

“i thought you got lost in the bathroom,” mingi looks at you while you down a whole cup of water before attacking the champagne.

“well,” you shrug, eyes catching a glance of choi san returning to his seat. “i’m here now, aren’t i?”

#timetohajima #timetohajima playlist feels #san #choi san #san smut #i fucking finally wrote a smut #ateez smut #ateez san #san imagine #san scenario #san fanfic #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #san one shot #ateez one shot

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