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#trying to understand what made them write all that into an otherwise perfectly good story
blood-orange-juice · 6 months
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Ok, crack theory.
The only thing that would justify that weird powescaling we just witnessed with Skirk's appearance (I think this is the thing I actually have beef with. apart from yeet being the new chopsticks) would be introducing a multiverse or something like that.
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lowkeyerror · 2 years
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Her First & Her Future pt 4
Maddy Perez x Reader
Word Count: 1.6k
Warnings: Violence
Summary: Maddy, Kat, and Y/n go to see Lexi's play. Surprisingly they get their own spotlight when trying to save the play from Cassie's inability to handle seeing the flaws in her own character.
An: This is end hope you guys enjoy this little series. I really enjoyed writing for Maddy.
Pt.1 Pt.2 Pt.3
Masterlist
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It was finally time to see Lexi's secret masterpiece. The art that she was afraid would be too real to handle. She didn't share a lot about the play with Y/n. 
She said it was one of those pieces where art imitates life. She said that the people closest to her could end up hating her for this. Y/n thought she was being overdramatic.
However, once the play started, she had truly begun to understand what Lexi meant. This play was about them, her friends and her family. Maybe slightly protected by changes in name, but it was so obvious.
" Is that-" Maddy started.
" Us," Y/n finished, intertwining their fingers together.
Lexi was reading everyone to filth, especially Nate and Cassie. They sat a few rows back from Y/n, Maddy, and Kat.
Everyone had certain flaws and seeing them on stage was almost surreal. Y/n wasn't safe from Lexi's story. The part where they kissed under the bleachers made it into the play, also Y/n's small issue with marijuana was there, but so was her recovery. There are bits about her relationship with Maddy, but not everything.
In Lexi's play it was clear that she was scared the Y/n would turn out to be like Rue. She was scared that she would lose another one of her friends to addiction and unhealthy relationships. It made the recovery process more important for Lexi than it was for Y/n, in hindsight. It made Y/n tear up a bit.
" Are you good?" Maddy sees the tears collecting in Y/n's eyes.
The girl nods with a smile on her lips," Ya, Lexi is a fucking genius."
Then it happens. The musical scene about Y/n's brother. His hyper masculinity which can be seen as a cover for his questionable sexuality. Maddy and Kat share a look that says more than words can before glancing back at the boy.
Y/n catches her brother's eyes and she feels sorry for him. This is humiliating, it's damn near a public outing. After all he's done it seems like karma finally caught up to him, in the way it knew it would hurt him the most.
" Lexi, you're a fucking g!"
It's not a second later that Nate storms out of the auditorium and Cassie scurries after him. It only takes a few moments for the blonde girl to burst through the doors again.
An evil look on her face. She doesn't stop at her seats, instead she heads straight for the stage. 
Y/n can't believe it when Cassie actually gets on stage and begins to hijack Lexi's play. Her true ego perfectly imitated the character Lexi was depicting in her play.
During her dramatic monologue she grabs Lexi from behind the stage and drags her out in front of the crowd. When Y/n sees her best friend in tears, she decides she's had enough. Unfortunately for Cassie, Maddy also decides she's had enough in that moment. 
They both get up at the same time, but pause when they see Suze get on stage trying to handle the situation.
Cassie keeps going on her reign of terror. She even asks Lexi if this is the part of the play where she steals Jake from Marta, otherwise known as Nate and Maddy, is in the play.
" That's not in the play."
That's when Maddy can no longer hold her tongue," It is now."
The crowd ooo's as the actor playing Cassie tries to calm the real Cassie down. It's too late now, Maddy has already started.
" Not only that but she fucking him the entire time Marta was talking about getting back together with him."
" Why?"
Y/n answers this one," Cause Halle's a two faced cunt."
Cassie shoots daggers at Y/n," Oh like she didn't do the same thing to you when she left you for your brother!"
" At least she didn't let her ego stop her from apologizing in the end. We worked it out because she can admit to her mistakes. Every character in this plays has their flaws, but fuck Cassie for you to be the only one get on the stage and act just like your character speaks volumes, doesn't it?"
" Like she said, you're a two faced cunt," Maddy repeats.
" I'm not a cunt, you're the cunt," Cassie growls.
Maddie doesn't miss a beat," You're the fucking cunt bitch."
Suze tries and fails once again to get Cassie off the stage. It seems like the stagehands figured something out, the play just resumes where it left off. Which eventually pushes Cassies off the stage.
However at the sight of Halle on the carousel the audience can hear Cassie's high pitched scream from backstage. She bum rushes the actor and starts fighting with her on the stage.
Suze tries to break them apart, but it's not working. Maddy has officially had enough," Oh this bitch needs to be put down."
She's rushing towards the stage as soon as the words leave her mouth. Y/n is the first to follow the girl followed by Kat and BB. 
Kat keeps screaming," Maddy no, no,no" as she tries to get the girl.
Maddy takes her shoes off on the stairs and tosses them to Y/n. Jacob's girl stops on the edge of the stage. Kat runs past her again screaming, "Maddy, no."
While Bb is the complete opposite," Beat her ass, Maddy."
Y/n watches with wide eyes as Cassie tries to run from Maddy. However, the stage is limited. When Maddy catches her, she ends up slapping the girl dead in the face. 
Every time Maddy gets a hold of Cassie, Kat pulls her off giving the blonde another chance to scurry away. They exit through the back stage and that's when Y/n decides to follow them. She gets a glimpse of Maddy shoving Cassie's head into the brick wall, which causes her to speed up. 
She passes BB who is still encouraging Maddy's behavior. They all end up in the girl's restroom. The fight was still going until Y/n finally separated the pair.
She held Maddy from behind, keeping from the other girl. Kat stood in between the girls just in case.
" You got her, it's over," Y/n whispers into Maddy's ear. She watches as her breath returns to normal.
Y/n hesitantly lets go of Maddy who then sits on the edge of the sinks. Kat takes her place in the middle and Cassie on the other edge.
" I gotta go check on Lexi. Please don't beat this bitch up, while I'm gone," Y/n pleads to Maddy. She kisses the top of Maddy's forehead after the latina agrees to not be violent.
Then she goes back to the auditorium entering the same way she had exited before. She asks a bunch of the stage crew if they had seen Lexi, to which most of them answer no. 
She takes it upon herself to find her friend. It takes awhile, but she finds her sitting with her back against the wall talking to Bobbi. 
" Lex," she says, getting both of the girl's attention.
" Y/n I-"
Y/n cuts her off immediately," I love it. Everything about it. You're a genius Lex and you deserve this moment more than anything. Don't let her take this from you."
Lexi looks from Y/n to Bobbi and then stands. She wipes the tears from her eyes and nods her head a couple of times.
Y/n scoops the girl up in a hug," I see you and I'm so proud, Lex. Now go break a leg, while I make sure Maddy hasn't beat the shit out of Cassie."
That gets her to chuckle," Thanks Y/n."
She watches as her friend centers herself. Her professionalism takes control as she makes her way back on to the stage. Y/n waits until she hears cheers as Lexi steps back on the stage.
When she does, it's her cue to go back to the restroom to check on that situation. The silence is vast as she re-enters the bathroom, the only hint of sound comes from BB's vape.
Maddy's icing a cut on her foot with a coke can. At Y/n's entrance Cassie finally finds it appropriate to speak.
" Do you know what's funny? Nate broke up with me before I even went on that stage."
There's a knowing look in Maddy's eyes when she responds,"  Don't worry, this is just the beginning."
Cassie looks around for a moment. The redness reappeared in her eyes. It's clear she wants to cry again. Maddy doesn't stick around for the tears and instead leaves the restroom. Y/n follows her out.
" Maddy-"
" I'm good, for real."
Y/n nods," Okay."
Maddy slips her hand into Y/n's. The bruises from the fight don't  bother her in the slightest. She squeezes Y/n's hand gently," I want us to be official."
The pair walked down the school halls. Y/n responds," Are you sure?"
Maddy smiles up at the girl." Ya, I want you to be my girlfriend."
Her smile makes Y/n smile in return. " It's about fucking time."
Maddy playfully shoves her shoulder," Shut up."
Y/n laughs before pulling the girl closer into her side," I'd love to be your girlfriend Maddy."
They step out of the school doors hand in hand. The pink sky silhouettes the two as the stand atop of the steps. They stop and face each other. The birds seem to sing for them as they smile at each other.
They kiss. Passion, need, and longing, all running through their lips. They hold each other close as if they're both frightened to let go. 
Finally reality doesn't plague Y/n anymore. She's no longer just Maddy's first, but her future as well.
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kiwisbell · 2 months
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Hi! So I said I would come back and leave more detailed comments about Helen ch.1 and I am a woman of my word SO! Here we are
Firstly, I rewatched John Wick just for this, bc I wanted to be able to pick up on nuances that I may otherwise have forgotten, so I took notes while watching it like the dork I am 😂 What jumped out at me most is how perfectly suited Joel's intensity (both when it comes to love and when it comes to violence) is for a John Wick AU!!! At one point John is described in the movie as "a man of commitment, focus, sheer will" which captures the parallels beautifully to me - and I really love the idea that the same qualities that made Joel a good assassin are also the ones which made him a good husband. There's something simultaneously beautiful and dark about that. I also FELT this description in how Joel's affections were described - he is so tender with his wife throughout. Reacting immediately once he sees she is tearing up, being so obviusly thrilled that she's back and so open about having missed her, liking it when she takes care of his hair. "Devotion" is so apt, and it is the word that comes to the forefront of my brain when I think about them, but I read this chapter and thought "committed to his wife? Check. Focused on his wife? Check. Getting back up after an ambush out of sheer will for his wife? Check". Also in the film, in the note that came with the dog, John's wife wrote "You still need something to love" and if that doesn't simply SCREAM Joel then what does? One of my notes was "Joel absolutely would go scorched earth á la John Wick" 😂 what I'm trying to say is that the way the parallels play out between the fic and the movie is absolutely BRILLIANT!! Also the little remark about him being a "meticulous driver"?? I see you!!!
Secondly, that preface and the bit in italics at the beginning???? You had me nervous with that bc like I said, I knew you were a genius when I first read the description for Helen but that as the intro to the whole fic??? I cannot imagine a more perfect beginning to this story. I will say at first I thought this would go under "parallels btwn the movie and the fic", bc I thought "well in the movie John watches a video of his dead wife, maybe in this fic Joel listens to the voicemail thing she recorded" but now I am not sure if she dies in this fic so I was thinking maybe Joel has to reconcile with her due to hiding his past and she hasn't been answering his calls? 🤔 i am intrigued but clueless. Also "did you get the perfect life Joel?" Is so painful to me bc yeah!!! It seems like he did!!! Leave my man alone he just wanted to love on his wife go away you're making him kill people!!!
Joel "was fourteen when he escaped... He is destined for Hell" and then it's revealed that he has a burn scar from a cigarette from "the people that raised" him... Joel learned Spanish in the Marines??? Do you know how hooked you've got me on Joel's backstory in this??? Do you understand the awesomeness of your own writing??? Do you comprehend that this fic has been like,,,, the ONLY thing in my brain these past few days??? God. I understand why she teared up though, I am quite ready to cry. I will equip myself with many tissue boxes for future chapters.
I know this is already obnoxiously long and I apologise, I am really trying not to take up too much of your time but the details in this are all so great! How the tone and Joel's whole outlook shifts once he sees her, like he goes from scanning his surroundings and thinking about the blade in his jacket lining (SUCH a good, characterising little touch to have that in there, speaks VOLUMES about who he is so efficiently!!!!) to basically only having eyes and focus for her 🥺
Is her croaking "can't breathe, honey" foreshadowing for how him trying to keep her close ends up being what kills her??? I want these two to have a happy ending so bad i am freaking out about this... pls just let this end with them happy and safe and finally getting that puppy. The hole in the painting where the woman's heart should be, though? Doesn't bode well for my hopes...
I want to highlight every piece of dialogue between them and all the touching!! Oh my goodness the way you describe their physicality is pure poetry. I can FEEL the devotion through the screen.
The fact that she not only paints him and the two of them together, but also her inner monologue so clearly sees Joel from an artist's perspective? GAAAAH I AM SO IN LOVE W THIS FIC. Oh also "no tears for me, not until I've earned'em" OH??? Just take my whole heart why don't you then?? "When will you learn that everything is about you" DON'T I am gonna turn feeeral. The fact that this foreshadowed the kid from the gas station later saying that Joel doesn't matter though? Damn that broke my heart. "Joel drags his open mouth up the column of your sternum, its golden pillar, his tongue dipping to taste the nectar that pools in the hollow of your throat. He tastes you instead, and he feels he has not cheated God." UHM???? THIS MIGHT ACTUALLY BE MY FAVOURITE THING EVEEEEER. "Your Joel will die and he will know pain in the way you want him to know love." This sentence + the way she tries to negotiate in order to protect him??? Oh. OH I LOVE HER. And then the threat to her being what makes him get up and fight like hell even though, before that, he was immobilised? HELL. YES. "Your soft cry inverts his ribs, sits heavy and wrong in his chest." + details about men Joel has wanted to kill for his wife but kept himself back from... the thoughts I had bc of this suggest I might need Jesus more than Joel does 😂
"Faith, he thinks now, glaring at the shallow cut on your cheek, is knowing your purpose. The wound is his purpose" what goes on in your brain when you craft a masterpiece like this I am just asking on behalf of us mortals.
I had to google "the black hands of Dürer" and now I am imagining that as a tattoo on Joel and my brain is empty except for that thought. So with that, I leave you and tell you I cannot wait for part 2 🥰
So I've had to migrate to my laptop just to give this ask the respect it fucking DESERVES because??? Oh my god???? This is the most in-depth and insightful and passionate analysis - when you said you were coming back with more thoughts, I did not expect you to rewatch JW let alone take notes. Every single word of this had me giggling and kicking my feet and slapping my hand over my mouth to contain the sheer joy. I am so honoured to have this in my inbox and honestly, I don't think I can do it justice. However, I'm ready to fucking dive in baby let's go!!!
Re: your first point about John/Joel parallels...
My original idea for the entire fic came from a thought I had one day: What if his wife had lived, and she found out about his life as a hitman? And in so many ways, Joel is similar to John, and it makes my heart SING that you noticed this. Joel needing "someone to love" reminds me of his motto that "you find something to fight for." So, of course, part of me wanted to write a John Wick AU because I'm selfishly in love with the films, but most of me thought that Joel Miller would slot into that world so nicely. Your beautiful, poetic point that "the same qualities that made Joel a good assassin are also the ones which made him a good husband" is so astute. I agree completely that those driving traits of commitment, focus, and sheer will absolutely carry over into his personal life with his girl! Scorched-earth is the only way to go, baby!! Those idiots made a biiig mistake.
I also knew that I wouldn't be able (or even want) to follow the film plot point by plot point; there are necessarily lots of things that will be different, but hearing from you that I was able to capture the essence of the film truly is unlike any other compliment I could receive. And as someone who knows bare-bones nothing about cars, I love that you noticed my little reference to John's driving in the movies LOL. Is Joel stunt driving around an empty airstrip or a rainy dock? Nope, he's driving his wife home from the airport!
Re: your second point about the beginning (and your predictions!)...
I obviously cannot say much to your questions and predictions (all of which I LOVE to read, eek!!). You're very right that I wanted a little parallel between the opening of JW/the video of Helen and the call Joel makes which goes to voicemail. You are the OPPOSITE of clueless, my friend. Your observational skills know no bounds.
You're also very clever for having those tissues prepared. I'm not an angst girlie at heart and this has been a whopping challenge for me! But again, fuck, it is so validating and so exciting to know that you want to see more!!
Re: THE REST
It truly stuns me how you're able to notice the little details, and now I'm so happy that I agonized over them! The hole in the painting especially. I think I'm in love with you, helen!anon. Another point you mentioned about Joel in the airport: I love that you recognize how his killer mindset really isn't all that different from his husbandly mindset - we will explore this more in the future!! (AKA I will be giving Joel free therapy and he really should thank me.) But it makes my heart so warm to see you point out how "Devotion" really is at the core of them. And yeah... Joel being murderous definitely makes me feel.... yeah.
Your screaming in the final couple paragraphs is literally ME GEEKING OUT OVER YOU AND THIS MESSAGE. I FUCKING LOVE YOU. And you know (because I love you) that I simply could not write a Joel Miller John Wick AU without reminding us all that yes, Joel does indeed have those tattoos. The hands of Dürer on John's back is my favourite one - it's such a simple piece but it conveys a lot of his history. I thought it was important that reader fixates on these things about him because she has an artist's brain (like you said), and the way she understands his physicality is, in many ways, how she understands all of him.
And... re: your final point about what goes on in my brain... BABY YOU TELL ME. God, I have wanted to write this fic for AGES and now that it's finally happening, I feel extremely privileged and excited that people like you are getting invested the way I did. I particularly love the fact that John's wife's name is Helen, because of course it is. Of course he starts a one-man war when his only living memory of her is destroyed. Of course Joel Miller would do the exact same fucking thing, over a cut on his wife's face. The face that launched a thousand ships, or just one guy who's real mad.
All that to say, I have never been quite so moved by an ask in my life. I truly cannot describe the feeling I had reading this, and I will never, ever forget the lengths you went to to bring me your thoughts. Your observations and your insights and your predictions and your thoughts make me so fucking happy to just exist, non, let alone write this fic. I just.. I love you. Thank you so much for all of this. I'm so, so grateful, and GOD please do not ever think you're being obnoxious. This has genuinely made my entire week.
TL;DR: helen!anon makes me cry (in a really really good way)
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rphelperblog · 2 years
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The Night Circus Book Quote Rp Meme
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inspired by @tricohven​ based on the book by the same name- feel free to edit quotes or change pronouns for rp purposes
“The finest of pleasures are always the unexpected ones.”
“People see what they wish to see. And in most cases, what they are told that they see.”
“The past stays on you the way powdered sugar stays on your fingers. Some people can get rid of it but it’s still there, the events and things that pushed you to where you are now.”
"This is not magic. This is the way the world is, only very few people take the time to stop and note it. Look around you,
“Is magic not enough to live for?"
“People are naive about such things, and they would rather write them off as evil than attempt to understand them. An unfortunate truth, but a truth nonetheless.”
“Trespassers will be exsanguinated.”
“I believe you have my umbrella"
“Better to have a single perfect diamond than a sack of flawed stones.”
"You appear the same way to me, so which of us is real?”
“You believe you could not live with the pain. Such pain is not lived with. It is only endured. I am sorry.”
'There may be decisions to make and surprises in store. Life takes us to unexpected places sometimes. The future is never set in stone, remember that
“That's the beauty of it. Have you seen the contraptions these magicians build to accomplish the most mundane feats? They are a bunch of fish covered in feathers trying to convince the public they can fly, I am simply a bird in their midst.”
“This is not magic. This is the way the world is, only very few people take the time to stop and note it.”
“Wine is bottled poetry.”
“I suggest you keep your distance from her and concentrate on your own work.”
“I cannot let a place that is so important to so many people fade away. Something that is wonder and comfort and mystery all together that they have nowhere else. If you had that, wouldn't you want to keep it?”
“I am tired of trying to hold things together that cannot be held.”
“...have a theory that she is in love with the dream of someone and not an actual person.”
“Nothing's impossible,"
“It will make the challenge a great deal more difficult for you.”
“And there are really never endings, happy or otherwise.”
“Timing is a sensitive thing.”
"Love is fickle and fleeting.It is rarely a solid foundation for decisions to be made upon, in any game.”
“Most maidens are perfectly capable of rescuing themselves in my experience, at least the ones worth something, in any case.”
The circus arrives without warning. No announcements precede it. It is simply there, when yesterday it was not.”
“Life takes us to unexpected places sometimes. The future is never set in stone, remember that.”
“We lead strange lives, chasing our dreams around from place to place.”
“But dreams have ways of turning into nightmares.”
“I have tried to let you go and I cannot. I cannot stop thinking of you. I cannot stop dreaming about you.”
“You're in the right place at the right time, and you care enough to do what needs to be done. Sometimes that's enough.”
“I would have written you, myself, if I could put down in words everything I want to say to you. A sea of ink would not be enough.' 'But you built me dreams instead.”
“The most difficult thing to read is time. Maybe because it changes so many things.”
“Good and evil are a great deal more complex than a princess and a dragon . . . is not the dragon the hero of his own story?”
People don’t pay much attention to anything unless you give them reason to”
“I made a wish on this tree years ago,"
“I couldn't tell the difference between what was real and what I wanted to be real.”
"But I remember the people who look at me the way you do."
"As though they cannot decide if they are afraid of me or they want to kiss me."
“I have been surrounded by love letters you two have built each other for years, encased in tents.”
“Everything I have done, every change I have made to that circus, every impossible feat and astounding sight, I have done for her.”
“The truest tales require time and familiarity to become what they are.”
“I think looking forward will be better than looking back.”
“I prefer to remain unenlightened, to better appreciate the dark.”
“We must put effort and energy into anything we wish to change.”
“I am haunted by the ghost of my father, I think that should allow me to quote Hamlet as much as I please.”
“But you built me dreams instead.”
“I mean only that I hope they find darkness or paradise without fear of it, if they can.
“I don't think there's anything wrong being a dreamer.”
"I think I made an analogy about cake."
"Who doesn't like a good cake analogy?”
"you are not destined or chosen. I wish I could tell you that you were if that would make it easier, but it is not true. You are in the right place, at the right time, and you care enough to do what needs to be done. Sometimes that is enough.”
“It is difficult to see a situation for what it is when you are in the midst of it,It is too familiar. Too comfortable.”
“You prefer not to see the gears of the clock, as to better tell time.”
“You need to understand your limitations so you can overcome them.”
“And there are never really endings, happy or otherwise. Things keep going on, they overlap and blur, your story is part of your sister's story is part of many other stories, and there is no telling where any of them may lead.”
“Once they were librarians, but that is a subject they will only discuss if heavily intoxicated.”
“A dreamer is one who can only find his way by moonlight, and his punishment is that he sees the dawn before the rest of the world”
“Each of them always gravitating toward the other. Yet still they do not touch.”
“All empires fall eventually. It is the way of things.
“Memories begin to creep forward from hidden corners of your mind. Passing disappointments. Lost chances and lost causes. Heartbreaks and pain and desolate, horrible loneliness. Sorrows you thought long forgotten mingle with still-fresh wounds.”
“It is destroying me that I cannot ask you to dance.”
“This is, in part, why there is less magic in the world today. Magic is secret and secrets are magic, after all, and years upon years of teaching and sharing magic and worse. Writing it down in fancy books that get all dusty with age has lessened it, removed its power bit by bit.”
“It is likely to make us think we are not caged. We cannot feel the bars unless we push against them.”
“So it’s really best to keep your secrets when you have them, for their own good, as well as yours.”
“A woman I should like to think I know rather well and a woman I had always considered a mystery, are in fact the same person.”
“Only the ship is made of books, its sails thousands of overlapping pages, and the sea it floats upon is dark black ink.”
“Like stepping into a fairy tale under a curtain of stars.”
“You think, as you walk away from Le Cirque des Rêves and into the creeping dawn, that you felt more awake within the confines of the circus. You are no longer quite certain which side of the fence is the dream.”
“I am tired of trying to hold things together that cannot be held. Trying to control what cannot be controlled. I am tired of denying myself what I want for fear of breaking things I cannot fix. They will break no matter what we do.”
“If she were gone I would be nothing. You should think better of yourself than to settle for that.”
Unusual yet beautiful. Provocative while remaining elegant.”
“I am tired of denying myself what I want for fear of breaking things I cannot fix. They will break no matter what we do”
“Perhaps it is controlling the chaos within more than the chaos without.”
“The rain increases and umbrellas sprout like mushrooms amongst the graves.”
“Striving for uniqueness in a world of sameness”
"It is a long and complicated story."
“How are you managing to keep everyone from aging?”
“The sensation reminds him of the first snow of winter, for those first few hours when everything is blanketed in white, soft and quiet.
“Are we going to discuss whatever it is you are here to discuss instead of dancing around it?”
“I didn't know your identity, but I had an impression of who my opponent was, being surrounded by things you made.”
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capybaraonabicycle · 1 year
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I wish you wrote a fic where River meets Bill :) my favouite characters by far
Aww, thank you! Yeah, I'd love to write that properly one day. Those two were meant to meet, you cannot convince me otherwise. So far I have only written three fics that feature both of them and in only two of them they interact at all:
Very, very little in the last chapter of A Family Wedding and a bit more in Dancing with the Doctor, which is a human AU. So no proper meeting written yet. Maybe I'll do that one day, I'll definitely keep it in mind.
For now, I can offer you some unpublished scenes from Dancing with the Doctor if you like:
River paid their conversation little mind and gently touched Bill’s arm. “I need to steal you away for a second” she said, trying not to sound too concerned and believing she did a good-enough job. “Sure.” Bill turned her back on the others, following River towards the side of the room. River thought it best to face the issue head-on. “How happy are you with Theta being your partner, really?” Bill blinked in confusion. “Very happy” she said. “As I told everyone in the meeting? Just now? I think we’ll be a great fit.” “He’s a grumpy old man with an inflated ego” River pointed out. “And you are sunshine personified.” “Thanks” Bill chuckled. “But, yeah, exactly: We’ll fit together perfectly.” “Are you sure?” River asked again. “Because if you are, I’ll trust your judgement and leave you alone. But if you aren’t, I can convince Amy to let you switch partners. You could dance with Jo, for example. Or maybe I can get Yaz to give up the Doctor.” “I’d really rather not dance with Jo” Bill shook her head, her eyes wide. “Pretty girls tend to make me a little nervous. I mean, I could partner up with the Doctor. He seemed okay. But I’d really rather stick with Theta.” “Despite him being an arrogant prick?” River asked. “You fancy him, don’t you?” Bill shrugged. “So, you know he has some charms. And I found him rather approachable. He made some jokes about the sky being made of lemon drops while we danced in the rehearsals. I mean, he’s weird. Definitely weird. But in a good way? I think I like him.” “That’s good to hear” River smiled, a lot more at ease now. “I’ll just ask Amy then to pair you two up for the decoy week already. Just so you can take one week to figure out whether this really is it. And in case he turns out to be a rude misanthrope – I mean, in case it turns out you can’t handle the fact after all that he is a rude misanthrope – we will just let Amy know and the two of us will change partners and no one needs to know. Okay?” “Thank you, River” Bill nodded. “I am way more terrified of having to be close to Jo again than some Scottish sass, but thank you anyway.”
Just River looking out for Bill and Bill not needing the support but appreciating it ❤ And then there's the teasing:
A while they walked down the corridors in quiet contentment. Then Bill asked: “Why did Vastra call you ‘Professor’?” “Oh, that’s quite a fun story” River said. “When we first met, she thought I was a sex worker.” Bill’s eyes got comically large and River let out a laugh. “And I thought, Vastra was with Scotland Yard, hence why I sometimes call her ‘Detective’” she added. They had reached the door to the exit now and she ushered Bill out. “But I fear I will need to tell you another time, cause here we are. The underground is that way, I think I can leave you to it.” “You cannot open like that and then leave me hanging!” Bill complained, crossing her arms. “Tell you what, I’ll buy you a coffee and you’ll tell me the story.” “I’m sorry, darling, but I really have to go home now” River said with a fake grimace. “We’ll have to circle back to it someday.” “You are just saying that to make me wait!” Bill recognised immediately. “Maybe” River admitted with a wink. “You have to understand I need to keep some secrets to myself.” She blew Bill a kiss and turned to leave. “I will ask Vastra!” Bill threatened. “Please do” River called over her shoulder. “If you can find the Paternoster Room.” “You are very mean” Bill shouted, but River could hear she was laughing. “And you’re only getting that now?” she asked, turning around again. “See you on Thursday?” Bill beamed. “Definitely! And then I will get you to tell me the story. Don’t forget, I’ll have Basil Theta on my side.” “Oh, those are some threats” River laughed, and gave another wave. Bill waved back happily and River turned around. She made her way home with a smile on her face, thinking that she could not wait for the next season to begin.
They already love each other so much and this is like their second or third time meeting :) There's also an unwritten scene in my head where River almost kills human!12 because she thinks he has made Bill cry.
Like, this AU was meant to be some cheesy spacewives/rivertwelve romantic thing and so far it has 90% been about platonic River x Bill, not just as platonic River x Jack and platonic and slightly awkward 13 x Yaz x Ryan. Also a surprising amount of River x Clara, I have no idea where that has come from.
But I've been having fun :)
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namgee · 3 years
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cry baby | jjk (m)
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❥pairing: Jungkook x Reader (f) ❥genre: smut, pwp, fwb au, university au (barely lol), fluff, 18+ ❥word count: 16.7k  ❥summary:
Jeon Jungkook [Jeon Jeong-gug] noun
1. The friendly (and hot) employee at your local roller rink. 2. Your friend with benefits of 3 months. 3. Someone who’s currently pissed at you for not casting your decisive vote on him in the disco rollerskating contest at his workplace. 4. A vengeful man determined on using his best assets to make you cry.
❥warnings: alcohol, cunnilingus, blowjob, deep throating, slight dom jungkook (?), tattooed jk (that I didn’t mention enough tbh 😩), fingering, rough sex, some overstimulation, some slight edging some spanking, biting (this could have been written as a vampire au lol), light exhibitionism, sex in public places,  reader gives a lot of looks 👀 (let me know if I forgot something) ❥a/n: this story jumps time a bit at the start I actually got confused with the tense since I’m so used to writing in the present tense, hopefully it’s not too confusing and doesn’t mess with the flow of the story, i was trying two new things with this story : writing smut and exploring new story structure, sorry for any spelling mistakes 🥺. any feedback is appreciated ;)) btw the title was inspired by the movie cause jungkook’s looks for the dicon shoot fit it to the T. ❥taglist: @min-nicoleee​ @jeonsjiddies​ @ggukkieland​ 
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You really like fucking Jeon Jungkook. 
He is made of just the right ratio of hardness and softness. You can simultaneously take an impromptu seat on the set of hard thighs that made for an irresistible lap. Thighs that still manage to mold themselves into the perfect weapon to attack the ever growing heat in your center. It’s precisely because of how much you like being confined under his heaving torso in the darkness of the night or the crack of dawn that you loved to stir his competitive spirit. 
Jungkook has been working at Diane’s Rink since his sophomore year of high school. Now two years into college and very capable of finding a better paying job he still chooses to remain an employee. The boss, Diane Berry, knows very well about the positive impact his presence has on her business, so she decided long ago to give him some perks apart from the bonus that grows for every year he remained an employee.  
One of the perks is allowing him, as staff, to participate in events held by the rink. From there on Jungkook has won the annual disco roller skating championship “Disco Craze” for four years in a row! A fit that he deserves, he is a great skater after all. 
A year ago you had moved from out of town to attend college. During your minimal sightseeing you come across a poster for the rink and its annual championship at the town hall. It turned out a friend of your roommate, Kyra, was a frequent visitor and was going to participate. 
On a chilly autumn day, the three of you headed to the rink itching for any kind of entertainment. Upon entering, the atmosphere was bubbling, strobe lights colouring smiling faces, people were gathered around the rink already cheering even though the competition wasn’t supposed to start for another fifteen minutes.
However, the minute you caught sight of what they were all looking at, an understanding nod was all you could give. Right there in the middle of the rink, the body of a well-shaped man clad with snug flare jeans skated effortlessly around as he swept the floor. You watched for a while as he moved around sweeping the same area a total of three times. Wow, he must really love the attention.
The competition started soon after you managed to get some snacks. Everyone clapped as the contestants entered the rink and lined themselves up for presentation. You were close to the rink ready to see it all when the real snack took the stage. 
Your roommate’s friend happened to be good, so good he managed to make you snatch your prying eyes away from “Mr. Swipe the Floor” for a good amount of time. Your attention was however brought back by the matter at hand as the sight of the most perfectly shaped globes of rear meat wrapped in a thin coat of denim passed by your eyes and you felt the urge to tap in. 
His performance on the rink, as if he was born in skates, didn’t help the matter at hand. Just like that, as if you were a primal woman hunting for a suiting partner and he was unaware of performing a nuptial dance, you made your mind then and there to somehow before the time you finish your education have him sweep something else other than the skating floor.
Everyone needs something to motivate them to keep going. Unfortunately for you, after that momentary day there weren’t many opportunities for you to go to attack. You can’t lie, you felt slightly guilty going after an oblivious prey, not that he looked like a prey. However, unknowing to you, your catch would lead to a drastic shift in your roles.
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After a couple of months an opportunity finally presented itself. It was a Friday, the day after the fall midterm exam, and it was party time. Knowing fully well that his party royalty friends would drag him there, you figured you should go and try your luck. 
Somehow between finding out Kyra is a hardcore partygoer and getting lost in the enticing swing of the music you forgot about your primary mission. But a quick trip to the restroom, one which forced you to pass dozens of bodies plastered to the wall in pairs of two made sure to remind you of the night’s purpose. 
You searched around for him, a harder task than you had expected as people flocked around him and his friend group. You cursed yourself for the misfortune of having your eyes set on the popular boy with slick hair that’s otherwise hanging in loose waves, tucked behind his ears or in a bun. But it was too late then, you wanted something, someone and you were out to get it. 
In your moment of extreme strength and confidence, all of which were fuelled by Kyra’s weird and possibly slightly poisoning alcohol blend, you gave your best (and thankfully only) shot. Your eyes zeroed in on the man who you had come to know as Jungkook as he continued to socialise with his group of friends. 
The distance between the two of you wasn’t big (you had after all been creeping for most of the night) and no one was exactly looking at you, yet you put on your best stance and strutted confidently towards him. You had talked to Jungkook before for a grand total of two times, both of those instances were in class, so it technically didn’t count. As you approached the large group of people, shivers travelled up your spine at the sight of yet another snug pair of pants paired with a belt that accentuated his waist.
Just for a second you felt jealous and a bit insecure as you stared down at your own form. However, drunk you couldn’t keep her mind one thing for too long unless it was Jeon Jungkook (and some other miscellaneous but important things). The Jungkook that was looking at you as you lifted your head back up. 
FUCK.
You had imagined the first time you caught him looking at you to be very different. You were supposed to look confident, disinterested but still somehow soft. You thought that in some way, because women are amazing, you would have figured out how to make it all work.
Yet there you were looking back, gaze wavering to let yourself catch a breath. You were one hundred percent sure he was making you more intoxicated than whatever it was you drank. 
It was the forehead exposure, coupled with a sweet looking, curious puppy dog face that really made you realise you were fucked and you really wanted to get fucked. That day was your lucky day, maybe he had been  looking for a charity case. Jungkook’s eyes kept trailing past your tight fitting crop top to your fidgeting legs as you curved his group of friends and headed back the way you had come. The drink you had taken in the name of liquid courage had done absolutely nothing to help, but that time you didn’t mind, he had done exactly what you wanted without any prompting from your end. 
Your legs shuffled quickly away from them, crossing your fingers (in your mind of course), hoping his experience with the ladies made the message clear. You walked far enough to see Kyra’s reappearing form and still no sign of Jungkook anywhere near you. Maybe he wasn’t as intuitive as you had thought him to be. Or he was just playing with you the same way you would want to play with him, back and forth to see who would cave in first. 
Your chest deflated the closer you got to Kyra and you didn’t understand the enthusiastic smile she threw your way as she turned her back to you. Hmmm, okay, you guessed that was her way of cheering a friend up. You got near enough to whisper-yell at her about your debacle, but a smooth criminal wannabe named Jungkook got in between and you don’t think you had been any more happy in your life. 
“Thank god,” you whispered to yourself, pussy clenching right back up at the close up sight of his slick hair, the dizzying scent of his surprisingly sweet smelling perfume filling your nose as you attempted to discreetly inhale it all in, only to let out a loud sigh that bordered on a moan. 
“What’s your name?” He asked softly, eyes shifting to your feet to watch you take a small step back. You told yourself you moved to get a better look at him, to be able to be in control, enough to gauge the situation. You and him both knew it was a lie. You lost your footing at the sight of him and the creeping smirk on his lips which his teeth tried to fight away did more than just show his satisfaction.
But now that you were the tiniest bit farther away from him, you made the bold choice of looking up at him. He was still staring at you, everywhere. Face, cleavage, legs, the hands that toyed with the fabric of your pants. All you managed to catch, now that he was that much closer to you, closer than he had ever been and yet it didn’t feel close enough, was the glorious undercut on his head. If you didn’t want to fuck him before, now you definitely do.
He waved a hand in front of your face? Your eyes bulged. “What?” You sounded like a dumbass.
“Your name?” His head leaned closer into your space and your hand awkwardly traveled to swipe past your nose, hoping it was enough protection from his very conscious attack. 
“Hmm right… Y/N.” You gave him a strained smile. You were really straining after all, straining to keep yourself from jumping him in the middle of a room full with people. 
“I’ve seen you at Diane’s Rink before, do you skate?” 
Jungkook was making small talk with you and you never thought you would ever think this but it was weird. Though you couldn’t  control the way your heart skipped at the fact that he had noticed you before. 
“No. I don’t skate. I’m just there because my roommate's friend skates a lot, she introduced me to the place and you know, I thought why not. So like I end up going there whenever, I don’t have specific days or anything, yeah… I just think it’s a dope place to be at. Roller skating is fun and Diane’s Rink is just the right place to do that… yeah but as I said I don’t really skate…” If the amount of finger snaps, lip smacks, and shoulder shrugs inserted in between your reply wasn’t embarrassing enough, the weird skating motion you did with your body took the cake. 
But even through all of that, he chuckled. He chuckled loud enough for you to see his chest vibrate as the skin beside his eyes and nose scrunch up cutely. How? You swear you could have fried eggs on him just a minute ago (yes that’s how hot he was) and now this. Jungkook was already asking too much of your body  and you hadn’t even gotten in his pants yet. He let his soft chuckle die out, head hanging low along with his hair and decided it was time for you to die as he faced your gaze again, tattooed hand brushing through his hair as a full-blown smile adorned his mischievous expression.
Your Jungkook induced trance was broken for a second as you registered the quick floundering of someone’s hand behind him. Kyra’s hand. She made small hearts in front of her eyes only to make a cross with her arms. You gave her a pleading look. You guess it wasn’t enough for Jungkook to ask much of you but then your roommate wanted you to spare the little self control you had left to suppress your full blown heart eyes for a man and his skin tight leather pants.
You bit the inside of your cheek in hopes it would do something to bring your sanity back, anything. Jungkook’s right hand left his jacket pocket as he extended the tattooed hand your way, “You’re cute. By the way, I’m Jungkook.”
No. No. No! Wrong! He was lucky you already knew his name, how the heck did he expect someone to hear anything he says after he calls them cute, big gentle eyes looking at you. Also, have scientists yet to discover extra nerve endings on people’s hands because you’re sure a handshake wasn’t supposed to feel that good and warm. 
You stared at the way his hand surrounded your own. You were barely putting any strength into it (not that you had any). It was all too much for you and you snatched your hand away, shaking it as if you had just touched a hot pan. Now the whole of you had warmed up to an extra degree. 
“I’m going to get us some drinks. Would you like that?” You didn’t  give him any time to properly answer before you were  sprinting past his frame to grab onto Kyra’s arm as you pulled her to wherever the alcohol was. You turned a corner and found a safe place for the two of you to chat.
“Kyra it’s bad. Like really bad,” you whisper-yelled. “He’s all unaffected, making small talk for some weird reason and standing so close I almost, no I actually forget my own name. You know what, maybe I’m trying to catch a fish that’s just too big. I don’t think I’m ready to play with him yet. I should work my way up to the big boss, don’t you think? Maybe start with some hot dude from the sports department then someone from the arts department and then Jungkook from the science department. That’s a foolproof plan. What do you think?” You paced around her, sporting a convincing voice hoping that it was enough to fool your brain into downgrading its desires for a while cause your heart just wasn’t ready for him yet. 
“Hey!” Kyra slapped your arm. “It’s been what? 6, 7, 8 months of you thirsting after a man. Today it ends, my friend. I don’t care! You’re fucking Jeon Jungkook tonight. If that’s the only way for you to get it out of your system so you can notice all the other much better guys you could choose from if you want to have a meaningful and lasting relationship, then my sole mission today is to get his dick into your hole before this party ends.”
You gave her a side eye for her constant critique of your attraction to Jungkook. It is ninety percent physical but you had been around at the rink (only on the days he had a shift of course) to notice another side of him responsible for the growing ten percent of your attraction. But you would never tell that to Kyra. 
“Fine… but like, what do I do? Everything that comes out of my mouth is weird shit or tmi and I’m just flustered okay.” 
“Then don’t talk. Go back in there, give the drink you said you were getting–”
“You were eavesdropping on us?” Your incredulous voice didn’t  even faze her. She just gave you a ‘really?’ look and you put your hands up in surrender.
“Hmm where was I? Right!” She snapped her fingers, “Take him to the dance floor, back it up on him, get him hard, then move away from the crowd a bit and pounce!” She gave you her drink for prep,“From there everything should just progress naturally, maybe y’all will start with a couch make out sesh or just jump directly to the wall one and then find some cramped up place to bone it out, maybe if you’re lucky you will find an empty room.” 
You stared at her, chewing your lips.
“You can do this!” Kyra said, each hand on your respective arms as she gave you a hard stare. “Today, the thirsting ends. Okay, now go get the drinks” She shooed you away. 
“Right, right. I can do this” You pumped yourself up as if you were prepping for a boxing round and honestly it wasn’t too far from the truth with the way his whole presence was making your heart hammer against your chest. 
One drink in each hand you made it back to your spot, surprised and flattered that he stayed put but still nervous for what was to come. You reached out to give him a cup, the hand contact almost making you drop it.
“Hmm, sorry about earlier. I’m just you know, nervous.” You drank from your cup.
“Nervous, why?”
Kyra said no talking.
“Wanna dance?” You asked pointing to the crowd, completely ignoring his question. He shrugged his shoulder, taking a sip from his drink while squinting his eyes at you. He was feeling slightly confused by your behaviour. “Sure, why not?”
You chugged the remaining liquid in your cup, squirmed at the strength of the alcohol and made your first bold move by grabbing his open jacket and pulling him into the hot and sweaty crowd. You took a quick look at him before you did anything else and you were more than pleased to notice that he was patiently waiting for you to do something. 
The drink, the sight of him, the heat in the room and in your core. It was all getting to you and you really wanted to see the arms with which he swipes the rink clean. His muscles were always straining against the black polo shirt he wears during his shifts. But that day he was sporting a white tee under the jacket and you wanted to see and feel them. 
You turned around and lifted your hands to place them behind his shoulders, in his jacket and pushed it off, staring at the ground. “You know, if you’re going to undress me in public you could at least look me in the eye.” You took a deep breath and did just that, slipping the remainder of his jacket off his forearms . “That wasn’t so hard, now was it darling.” He gave you a looped-sided grin.
You were so turned on and yet you chuckled at the pet name. You didn’t hate it, but you didn’t quite like it, yet. It would have sounded much better coming from him in a gruff voice, with you placed under him taking all of him as an endless stream of moans fell out of your mouth. You needed to take another deep breath at the thought of that, hands clenching around the rough fabric of his jacket as your thighs rubbed together to get yourself under control.
“You good there darling. There’s shivers on your arms.” He pointed at you, tongue wetting his lips. 
Your head snapped down to see that he was right. You rubbed your arms as fast as you could. “Let me try,” his hands replaced yours. Safe to say it didn’t help as you shivered more under his touch wishing the floor would swallow you whole. The way you reacted to the absolute minimum when it came to him was getting embarrassing. “Okay, so maybe that didn’t help,” he said and it was time for you to give a side eye, to which he chuckled, again.
Instead he brought up the jacket in your hands and dressed you in his clothes. It was way too big, but it was warm and the smell of him warded off all the sweat odour from the dance floor. You slapped your thigh, you really needed to focus. The steps were: back it up → make him hard → make out session →  his dick in your hole. It was action time, baby!
You were then staring at the glory that was his chest, oscillating softly under the thin fabric of his tee and your hands ran down his arms, quick after you turned around pulling him closer unfortunately missing the sight of him shivering beneath your trailing fingers.
Your back was glued against the rigid surface of his chest as you went to town, swaying to the beat, your swiftness must have been impressive enough for him to emit a soft whistle. You did your best to suppress the proud smile forming on your lips. You kept at it, hand occasionally reaching back to rub at the back of his hair, only for him to huff and sigh in your ear prompting you to rub your hips further into his. 
It wasn’t long before he was looking for more. His flexed arms caged you, as his right hand ran down your stomach to grip at your thigh just as the other hand kept a tight hold of your hip. You whimpered at his touch, chest caving inwards as your thighs attempted to shut themselves even closer pushing your butt further into his crotch for you to feel it. Strong and prominent. Jungkook hunched over, out of courtesy you thought but you pulled back to continue your tempting ministrations. The shame was gone, all you wanted was for him to feel you up. 
You placed both hands behind his neck, caressing his skin and hair, rolling your hips against his even harder when the bass drops. “Ahhh,” Jungkook hissed into your neck before biting it, making you sight in response to the tightening of his grip. You could have remained pressed against him letting the heat of his chest radiate into you all day, all night frankly, but you wanted more. 
Reluctantly prying yourself off his hands you turned around to face him. His gaze was hooded, lips were parted, hair disheveled from your hands, chest oscillating faster than before and you thought you detected the smallest flush on his cheeks despite the darkness of the room. 
You pulled him back closer. He was really close now. Hard chest grazing hard nipples, anxious hands positioning themselves on his biceps as he rested his hands on your hips. You were really about to do it. Your hands travelled upwards to lock behind his head as he hunched down, hair falling in front of his eyes and his hands brought your chest closer. The way he tightened his hold around your torso, fingertips grazing your sides softly had you smiling into the kiss. 
It all felt too good, and if you hadn’t been sure before, you were then 100 percent convinced you’re not going to get over Jungkook’s lips anytime soon. That one night would definitely not be enough. You were so fucked!
Jungkook was hungry for more contact, hands travelling south to get a generous feel of your ass, he broke the kiss cutting off your soft moans to look into your eyes, a smirk on his lips, “Baby got back.” He slapped your right cheek, and you shrieked only to sink back into moaning as he rubbed the sting away. 
Before he gave it another try you pulled his head down, opening up your mouth to let him explore another part of you. The strong alcohol mix blended between your tongues, as your hands pulled the back of his t-shirt to somehow get him closer. Jungkook chuckled into your kiss and all you did was mumble a disfigured “What?!” 
“Nothing,” he whispered as he lifted you up and away from the dance floor. “I just think–” peck, “it’s time we find–” peck, “another place to continue this–” peck. The domesticity of it all, despite the environment, left you stunned, cheeks warming up considerably and all you could do was hide your face in the crook of his neck. You liked it, in fact you liked it a little bit too much. 
Jungkook might have wanted to give you the lovey-dovey scenario but the truth was you were at a college party, bumping with sweaty bodies on the way to find some privacy, half drunkenly tripping over littered staircases was what you needed to get through. Which you did with the help of a strong hand grabbing onto the hem of his t-shirt as you attempted to navigate the dimly lit apartment. 
“Hey, hey, slow down there,” Jungkook sounded behind you as he pointed to a room that just then became vacant when two ruffled figures pursued a silent retreat from it. Though the last thing you wanted to do was slow down. You shuffled back and into the space. 
The room was hot, smelled of sex and alcohol and the bed sheets were a mess. Jungkook threw a calculating eye towards the bed.
“Under the sheets?”
“Under the sheets,” you answered as you helped him discard the duvet. 
“You really want to take the risk?” He asked, pointing back at the door as he walked to your side of the bed. The right side.
You thought it through in your head. The worst thing that could happen was someone walking in while Jungkook’s is balls deep in you. The best thing that could happen was Jungkook being balls deep in you. Also maybe the worst thing wasn’t t that bad after all, you thought as the thought of someone seeing Jungkook fuck you shoot a shiver up your legs and into your pussy. 
“Uh huh,” you answered, breathless and squirming when his hands dove into the back of your crop top and his teeth nibbled at the exposed skin of your cleavage. “God..hmm, fuck,” he moaned into your skin making it even hotter as you ground your dripping center against his groin and your hands pulled his slick and soft hair to keep yourself from melting into a puddle.
“Please touch me.” 
Your voice was barely audible in between your whimpers. Jungkook’s hands slid down your back to sprawl his big palms on your ass as he controlled your grinding, looking into your eyes. You couldn’t keep them open, not that you needed them to decipher his eagerness. If the soft moans, the big hands and the biting weren’t enough to let you know exactly how he was feeling, his dick was more than glad to help as it grew stiffer by the minute, grazing harder and harder against your drenching heat. 
Did you love the way his hands glided over your heated skin, seemingly setting it on fire as he kneaded it every chance he got? Yes! But you wanted him to touch you elsewhere.
“Plea—ah, touch m—oh.”
Jungkook kept showing you that there were more ways to use his mouth. He had kissed and bit you but nothing could have prepared you for his sucking. Somehow while you were busy craving for his touch, he had undone your bra and discarded it somewhere and now he had his warm and wet mouth around your sensitive mound as his hand massaged the other. His hot tongue swept over the thin fabric covering your nipple, biting the erect tip only for you to whine and squirm at the loss of contact with his cock. 
He took his time, enough for sweat beads to form along your hairline. You whined, pushing yourself against any surface of him within your reach. You could have been vocal about wanting to feel him on you, skin burning against yours, to feel him in you, his strong appendage exploring your heat. Yet you kept your mouth shut for fear of the sound that might leave you
Jungkook gave your breast a particularly hard bite before your hand slid from your hair past your slippery chest to hold onto his slick locks. Your uncontrolled, whiny moans didn’t seem to do much to change Jungkook’s speed. Somehow, his exploration of your breasts became even more languid, lending enough time for your breaths to become synchronized. 
His tongue trailed its way back up to graze your slack jaw as your eager hands latched on the thin fabric of his t-shirt to push him down onto the bed. That seemed to bring him back to reality, glazed eyes staring right at you. Jungkook thought that you wanted it to be a two-way street, not just him pleasuring you but you him. However his jittery leg couldn't’’t help but show his eagerness to try out whatever it is that he had in mind.
“So….” He exhaled, breathing slowly going back to normal.
You started a bit longer at him, after all, this wasn’t about Jungkook getting his fill, it was about you getting yours. You were the one who had been fantasizing about this for an unhealthy amount of time. So truthfully, you weren’t looking for a two-way street. You wanted something else. “I want to use you.” At that his leg stopped bouncing. 
Maybe you knew a lot less about Jungkook that you thought. At the sight of his rippling muscles removing his t-shirt the “keep your mouth closed” rule you had imposed on yourself flew out of the window. Your shining eyes gained a chuckle. “You look like a kid in a candy story,” he said while he crossed his arms hoping his bulging biceps would divert your attention from another straining part of him. Jungkook deducted that you liked to watch as your teeth abused your lips, to let your eyes run past his tooth-rothening sweet expression to his broad shoulders that were slightly red from your previous eagerness, down his chest to his happy trail and equality happy dick. 
He was right, you liked watching, but not just watching anyone, watching him. You were finally getting front row, uncensored material to fill all the previous fantasies you had had of him at night, in the morning, in class, at the rink, anywhere really. 
You dropped to your knees, ass on your feet, as your hands ran down his thighs to feel them clench under your touch, “Don’t worry I’m not too much of a kid, I won’t take too much and leave you dry,” you said, floundering hands reaching for his zipper. Jungkook made it easier for you, spreading his legs to let you closer into his space. 
You couldn’t help but stare at the bulge in front of you only to shy away and stare at the floor, You took an apprehensive look at Jungkook whose lips were slightly parted, eyes soft, waiting for you. For someone who was just having a quick fling he was weirdly patient and understanding. “Sorry for staring,” you whispered, undoing the zipper and reaching behind as he lifted his hips from the bed for you to pull his pants and underwear down his ass. A soft grunt escaped his lips as your finger grazed the flesh of his toned ass.“As long as you’re not disgusted. If anything I’m flattered.” He smiled down at you.  
He spread his thighs wider, allowing you a full view of his veiny up-curved cock, rushing blood tainting the tip an angry red. Now he was showing off, to which you threw him a sly smile which he returned with a wink as you shook your head, hand reaching for the alluring throbbing length. At your touch you heard a sharp intake of air above you, you gave a tentative lick to his tip receiving a slight jolt. 
You had gotten so far, yet the prospect of having Jungkook staring at you as you blew him off had you shy. With a gentle hand to his hard chest you prompted him to lay down on the bed. “Stay down,” you breathed against his dick. “Unfai–ahhh” he didn’t get to finish his protest as you enveloped your warm mouth around his thick tip, swirling it around as the salty taste of precum coated your tongue and an involuntary hum of approval reverberated in your chest. Yeah this was worth it, you thought as you plunged more of him into your mouth to his approving groans. “Fuck, oh, you feel so good.” You didn’t think of yourself as having much of a praising kink, but the praise coming from him with a throaty voice in between his gasps, had your pride swelling along with his cock. 
Your head bobbed up and down his hard shaft, saliva coating the surface generously as your hand twists around his length. A particularly good suck of your mouth on his cock had Jungkook’s thighs clenching around your frame, a hand rooting itself on your hair. “Yeah, right there. Fuck.” You repeated the same movement whining at his tightening grip.”Sh–agh I’m gonna cum soon if yo– oh fuck you’re too go–” Your thighs were clenched tightly around your heated core, your other hand gripping onto one of Jungkook’s shivering thighs. You were really doing it. Feeling the weight of him on your tongue, pushing back and sucking him further down your throat. The rush of glee in your body was unavoidable.
You pulled through, opening your aching jaw further as you pumped more of him into your mouth, tongue fully stretched letting his mouth watering cock be embraced by the constricted walls of your throat. The instance he felt the effect of the depth of your throat, your nails plunging into the skin of his thighs for added intensity, Jungkook couldn’t keep himself down anymore. He heaved his clenching torso back up to a seated position at the sound of your gags. They resounded loud enough to drown his discombobulated mix of heavy sighs and groans, yet he wished he could swap the backdrop electronic music for the slippery and choked out sounds being emitted from your warm throat. 
“Hey hey hey, slow down or I’m gonna cum in your mouth,” he said in a rushed voice as you relentlessly continued your attack on him, keeping your promise of using him. 
When words didn’t seem to be getting to you, he attempted to yank your head back a bit but you stayed rooted, throat somehow engulfing him deeper as the strong command of his arm flattered against your ministrations and had him bucking his hips upwards. You choked on his length, landing a warning slap to his thigh which didn't seem to help other than encourage Jungkook’s inevitable descent into a whining mess. “Oh-h sh-it, fuck me.” His stuttering breaths along with the scent of him as your nose touched the base of his cock had you dizzy and dripping wet, nails scratching his skin meanwhile tears coated your hot cheeks. When you were done with him you were sure he would file an animal complaint report. You weren’t exactly trying very hard not to mark him.
Despite your aching throat and jaw, you resolved to take him deep one last time. But that seemed to be one last time too many as the hot exhale of Jungkook’s breaths further warmed your forehead and he buckled forward from the pleasure. His O-shaped mouth connected with the top of your head whilst he defiled your throat and mumbled curses through gritted teeth. 
Your worn out mouth retracted to give place for your arms to do the finishing work. Before you could pick up the speed, Jungkook’s mouth found your abused lips, tongue probing your entrance to lap up at the excess saliva, sighing softly into the kiss. The hand in your hair kept you rooted in the racking of his teeth against your lips and for a second you thought of letting him use you too. That was until you gave him a small bite of your own and felt him twitch in your hand. Your other hand wrapped around his wrist to remove his hold on you as you tore your lips off of his just to stare at his hooded eyes. 
“I’m supposed to be using you Jeon.” Your hands resumed their work on his cock, welcoming back the straining breaths of the godly man seated in front of you. He was leaning back on his arm as his other hand latched onto his sweaty hair, trying to anchor the sanity that threatened to leave him at the sight of you working on him so diligently. A sight that would remain ingrained in his mind for a very long time. You made sure of it. “Oh, I’m close,” he slurred.
You stuck your tongue out, “Woah really, you’re sure about it?” He might have sounded concerned but you could still manage to see the glint in his sweaty expression. He wanted it. So you played along, “Jungkook pleaseeee,” you whined head moving closer to his flushed cock. You left the rest to him, watching as his fingers fluttered around his length to form a strong hold as he pumped himself with your saliva past his edge. “A–A– Ahhh hmmm, oh fuck.” White warm stripes of salty cum landed on your tongue at the same time that you watched the satisfying decoration of tightly knitted brows, eyes shut tight and bottom lip caught between his teeth on his face following his hurried release. 
You pushed your ass off your feet to stand back up and Jungkook met you, standing tall, hands as eager as ever as they wrapped around your form. You shivered at the graze of your nipples against his taut chest. Jungkook went on to leave even more marks on your skin, teeth grazing and nipping your flesh between the wet trail of soft kisses he made sure to leave before his mouth reached the sensitive shell of your ear. “Thank you,”he whispered and you almost laughed out loud but managed to keep under control. “I wasn’t doing you a favour, Jeon. I’ve wanted to suck your dick for a while now. So really, I should be the one saying thank you.” 
Your hands traveled down his back as you placed your head in the crook of his neck to give him some of your own marks, except a lot less delicate which you could tell by the way he squeezed you tighter. 
You let your arm travel in between your bodies to wrap around his neck as your other arm took it upon itself to get him ready for another round. The most important one. Your fingers played with the strong raven strands on his head earning approving hums from his broad chest. With calm strokes to his member you felt him hardening. But Jungkook also wanted his fun so with two hands of his own he undid the measly buttons of your pants. It was either he was somehow good at undoing buttons while pressed against someone or he just had a lot of experience, but Jungkook did not tear his eyes away from yours. You stroked him harder, pulling soft, strained yet compelling reactions from him, his hot breath fanning your face in the time that you felt the weight of his forehead against yours. 
Addicted to the feeling of your hands on him, he let you fondle with him a bit longer instead choosing to play with the softness of your ass. His hands familiarised themselves with the strong curve of your cheeks and their strong jiggle potential when he grabbed a handful of your butt to pull you closer so he could grind on you. “Ohhh,” you sighed into yet another bite of his shoulder. 
Jungkook kept grinding and you kept whining and sighing. By then you were sure you had soaked through your panties and down your thighs, something he wished to witness as his fingers hooked around your pants and pulled them all the way down. You were raring to keep stroking him. Honestly, you could have held his dick forever if asked to. It was heavy and hot against your palm, velvety skin dragging up and down with each movement of your hand. And with every particularly good stroke on your end it would give you a little reward twitch.
But Jungkook had other plans. He stood back up, hands sliding behind your thighs to heave you up, legs around his waist as he climbed onto the bed. He knelt on the mattress with your form still clinging to him and arranged the few pillows to his satisfaction. He tapped your thigh for you to let go and lay splattered on the bed, wet and needy pussy on display for him. You still had on your flimsy crop top, which he all but ripped off you. 
“Hey!” You went in for a hit on his chest, which he blocked. “Not cool, this isn’t some sort of movie you know,” you pouted angrily at him to which he smiled back.  He wondered how he didn’t not notice you at the rink before? 
“I’ll buy you a new one.” He made small talk as he spread you further to stare at your dripping centre. “Who says we’re gonna meet again after this?”
Jungkook ran his fingers past your wet folds, coating himself in your want as he turned his eyes back at you to be met with the sight of your cheek. “All this juice says.” You heard a loud pop and tried to shield yourself but his thighs were in the way. “Oh, now you’re shy,” he huffed lightly as he held onto your ankles to push himself back enough to be at eye-level with the result of his alluring nature. 
“Is it okay if I eat you out?” you didn’t know if he had intended his question to come out as soft as it did, like he really believed that you didn’t want his face between your thighs. “Jeon just get to it.”you acted detached. He shook his head at your feigned annoyance and grabbed a handful of your thighs, rooting himself close enough to your gaping hole that your folds tickled from his shallow breaths. 
He bit his way past your clenched thigh and gave you one last squeeze, “What a pretty cunt.” One he dived right into, tongue lapping at the excess wetness with an excruciatingly slow lick . “Ahh, fuck.” You did your best to take a deep breath, one supposed to calm your jitters down but Jungkook wasn’t looking to give you mellow head. Harshly kneading the skin of your thighs, he buried his face deeper into your pussy, pointed tongue travelling past pooling juices to probe your entrance hard enough for your hands to bunch into fists hard that would leave crescent moons on your palms. 
“Oh–My–God.” You moaned between rhythmless breaths. You squeezed your eyes, back arching off the bed when he licked you in a particularly hungry away only to graze his teeth lightly against your sensitive flesh. “You good up there?” You could feel his smile against your inner thighs. You shoved your heel into his side in retaliation. “Oh, aggressive in bed? Sexy” You propped yourself up on your elbows to give him a dumbfounded look as you motioned to him to keep it going. “Awww, you’re so mean to me darling.” His shiny lips formed a pout and you did your best not to react to what he had just called you. “Please,” you muttered for good measure. But Jungkook seemed like an easy person to please and an even bigger people pleaser so he got back to the task at hand.
While he had kept quiet for most of the time he was devouring your pussy, now with some kind of newfound confidence he hummed soft words of praise at every little twitch of your legs and buck of your hips and every soft gasp that left your lips. His eagerness fed off of your whining and tossing and he grew harder for every squeeze of your thighs he felt against his broad frame. 
While Jungkook was satisfied with having you laid out for him, oozing your desires into his tongues for him to taste and praise, he wanted to see how far he could take you. Maybe it was just him and his competitive spirit or maybe it was his need to explore more of you, to add one more thing on his list of “who Y/N is” before you parted ways. Whatever it may have been, it made him bring his hand down to plunge a strong finger past your folds and into your welcoming heat. You yelped at the sensation, hands finally settling on Jungkook’s hair only for your hold to strengthen as he slipped the finger in and out. 
“You like that darling?” You chose not to answer, you didn’t want to inflate his ego anymore as if he wasn’t able to make out the answer for himself, which he did when a second finger made an entrance and you whined at the delicious feeling of the slight stretch. “Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.” You flapped your foot against the mattress when he went back to attacking your centre with his tongue, flicking at your clit, landing fluttering kisses that have the knot in your stomach tighten further while his scissored you into a whining mess.
“I didn’t know I was about to fuck a fish.” He laughed as you felt the swipe of his tongue when he retracted from his kisses which set off the aim of your kick against his side. “Next time remind me to bring a tie or a few of them. Don’t get me wrong I appreciate the reaction but I don’t like to be disturbed while I am ravaging such a delightful pussy.” You wanted to abandon the daze Jungkook had induced within you, just for a second, enough to refute his idea of a second time, but the rushed addition of a third finger inside your wet walls shut you up. Jungkook pressed his digits with determination, alternating speeds to make a mockery out of your need for oxygen. 
Things seemed to come in a duality for him. While he wished nothing more than to make a mess of you, and revel in the mix of gushing sounds from your cunt and pitched curses blessing his ears, he equally wanted to slide the softness of his cheeks against your thighs only to turn his head to cover you in ghostly kisses. He wanted you to feel everything, his fingers turning you into putty, his breaths fanning turning you even hotter, the dip of his other hand beyond your clenched stomach and past the valley of your chest as you held your breath long enough to exhale into the commanding squeeze of his tattooed fingers around your breast.
He went on, you screamed on. He fed himself off your cries and scratches on his scalp, slurping on the endless gush resulting from months’ worth of pent up horniness of your part. 
You slapped Jungkook’s shoulder, hoping to bring him out of this endless exploration with his tongue. You were close. “Jungkook~,” you whined, head tossing side to side. He hummed against you, grabbing a fistful of your ass, somehow bringing you closer than you already felt. You were beyond controlling yourself, legs trembling at the combined attack of his nose against your clit, tongue curving as he soaked you up. ”There you go, come for me darling.” 
He engulfed your bud around his lips and your hands retracted for your breasts, any semblance of normality and balance slipping from your fingers into Jungkook’s hair. “Jeo— oh god, fuc—yeah right...” You trailed off, words getting caught in your throat, back arching your feverish chest against the stale air of the room, hands clenching around his locks at the moment the compiled knot of your arousal snapped under Jungkook’s attentive care. 
You tried to control your quivering legs and if it weren’t for Jungkook’s slow and steady ascent from the place between your legs to your lips, you might have shrieked at an alarming volume. You still shrieked but the same coated lips that brought about your orgasm, were placed on yours to bring you back down to your usual composure. You tasted yourself on his tongue. And you couldn’t control the twitch of your torso when his hand went to caress your back, pulling scorching skin against each other. 
The light and docile dance of Jungkook’s fingers brought about a different demeanour in you. At least that was what you let yourself believe. You exhaled an amused deep breath in the crook of his neck as your high came to an end, “Fuck, you’re good at this.” 
“Again, thank you,” he said calmly, yet you felt the slight thumping of his heart against your breast. It must be from vigorous exercise. 
The both of you lay next to each other on your side for a moment, Jungkook’s arm draped over the dip of waist. 
“Honestly, we could end here and I would be happy,” you said closing your eyes, letting your neck rest as your head slumped against his chest. A small laugh erupted from him.
“It’s you saying shit like that, that will make sure we don’t end here, at least not if I can do something about it.” He ran his hand along his neck and you truly believed in your soul to be staring at a Michelangelo painting. You ogled the way his arm stretched sideways to reveal the small bed of air in his armpit as his biceps bulged (whether he’s showing off or that was just your perception didn’t matter and you frankly didn't care). 
His hairstyle was no longer present, hair completely out of his face and you imagined this was what he must look like when he wakes up, albeit less sweaty and red from all the scratches and marking. His face looked a lot softer, the fat on his cheek more prominent and the largeness of his eye more notable.
Maybe that was a bit harsh, but you would rather not have him text you during this specific weekend. You didn’t know what kind of texter he was, but if you based it off your only interaction, he seemed rather talkative.You just needed some time to let what just had happened and what would continue to happen sink in.
“Stop staring at me. It’s not helping your case for stopping here,” he said, blinking a couple of times to look past you. This Jungkook, who was in fact like all the versions of Jungkook you had seen during your pining months, had you feeling less intimidated enough for you to smile at his remark. The first proper smile he got to see. He wanted to comment on it but you spoke before.
“You wear glasses?” 
“How do you know?” He asked back.
“I didn’t. I just noticed you blinking a lot so I guessed.”
“I wear lenses for the most part, but my eyes are quite dry. It’s usually not a problem. But I wasn’t trying to miss any of your reactions,” he winked
You huffed giving him an incredulous look. You wondered what he looks like with glasses on? Does he look hotter or cuter? You were  about to continue building on your imagination when he decided that break time was over by pulling on your arm to have you laying on top of him where you could now feel his reenergized cock. You threw yet another look his way as if you weren’t mentally drooling at the thought of seeing him with glasses.
“I told you to stop looking at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like you’re thinking about me. Thinking about me outside of this context.” 
You were too childish to admit, so you did the first thing that comes to mind at the sight of his chest. You bit it.
“Ouch! You really want me to make you cry again huh?”
Deeming him distracted enough from the previous path your conversation was taking. You stretched your neck to his pierced ear. “I want you to fuck me now, Jeon.” If the shift of his gaze wasn’t proof enough of the sudden change in atmosphere. Then the contraction of his hands against your frame, as your heart triumphed at the feel of his cock hardening further against the edge of your thigh, made it clear.
“Hmm such a potty mouth,” he gave you a serene kiss, hands travelling deeper into the valley of your back. “Not even a small please.” He got a very deliberate feel of your ass while nipping at your collarbone. 
Using both hands placed at the top of his V cut, you pushed yourself to a seated position on top of his hard dick, pulling an agitated groan from Jungkook’s lips. You ground your hips on top of him, wet pussy lips providing copious lubrication, “Please~," you moan, head hanging low. He bit his lip, hand colliding with your ass, “That’s more like it.”
The feel of him was more overwhelming than you had imagined and when Jungkook rooted his hands on your hips to guide you into a slower grind, your legs squeezed against him at the feel of his tip grazing your entrance. You threw him a side eye, fully aware of his teasing. But you didn’t mind it all too much, especially not when it felt so good. The kind of good that made you close eyes and munch on your bottom lip for fear of uttering something utterly stupid but very true like, “God, I could fuck you forever.” 
“Huh, whatcha say?” Your eyes shot open to look at Jungkook’s distorted eyebrows above the eyes that were staring at the conjunction between your groins, lip still caught in his teeth. “Nothing,” you dismissed your unintended statement easily, diverting his attention to the current moment.
The hand that was splattered against his sweaty chest traveled to wrap around his fully erect penis as Jungkook hissed at your touch. “Oh fuck, you’re really gonna ride me?” You couldn’t help the prideful swell of your chest at his enthusiasm. Jungkook might have seemed intimidating but he definitely knew how to praise. At the rate he was going, you were one hundred percent sure you would be boasting about fucking him for the rest of the academic year. 
You pushed against your knees, body relaxing thanks to the soft caresses Jungkook left on the sides of your thighs. Okay, you were really going to do it? Your heartbeat had skyrocketed, eight months of pining and imagining finally coming to an end. You were ready to sink onto his length.
“Wait! Condom.” He said pointing to the side of the bed where his discarded leather pants should be somewhere. 
“Right,” you shook your head, coming back to your senses as you shuffled quickly off him and the bed to grab his pants.
“Nice ass,” he emitted a subtle sound of approval making you roll your eyes as you bent back up, pants in your hand. “Back pocket,” he instructed. You found exactly one condom. “I see you didn’t have too many plans of your own for tonight,” you said in what was supposed to be a light tone, but it came off far more judgemental. You managed a smile for good measure, climbing back up on top of him.
You teared off the packaging, unrolling the condom onto his cock which was wet with your want. A soft “oh” came from underneath you when you reached the base of his dick. Jungkook’s look had somehow become even more intense, he stared as your fingers traveled to hold his shaft, positioning yourself above it. While you tried to make it subtle, he noticed the small breaths you took apprehensively before sinking his member into your wet warmth. 
You both sighed, you delighted by the thought-erasing stretch of Jungkook’s throbbing length as he ended up fully sheathed in you, and him simultaneously entranced by the tightness of your walls and the sight of you on top of him. Jungkook might not have known you before now, but he was sure he wouldn’t ever forget you. In fact, he doesn’t.
“Don’t get me wrong, I love a good cockwarming but it would be a waste if I com—,” you shifted your hips a bit “before I got a good dicking in.” 
“Jeon, shut up. I need to adjust okay.” 
Jungkook was about to open his mouth to boast, you were sure of it so you slapped your palm down on his mouth. You thought you heard him mumble something along the lines of “kinky” as crinkles showed up besides his eyes.
You took yet another deep breath, moaning at the slow drag of his veiny cock against your pussy as you slid up, tip almost leaving your core only to slide back down, a small shriek emitting from your throat on the fast descent. Jungkook’s hands left your sides to remove your hands from his chest so he could lift his torso to a seated position. You gave him a quizzical look. “I just want to be able to kiss you,” he pushed the two of you closer to the headboard, back leaning lazily against the surface, “if I want to, which I will,” he felt the need to add.
So you plunged forward, smashing your lips against his, his head almost hitting the headboard. Arms coming around to rest behind his neck, you picked up the speed as the slapping sounds of your ass against his thighs filled your space. “Ohhhh god,” you sighed against his shoulder. The room was brimming with gushing sounds, Jungkook’s cock ramming into yours between never-ending gasps and groans, and ongoing praise from Jungkook’s end telling you how good your pussy felt, how good you were to him. “Fuck, do you hear how wet you’re for me?”
You stuttered, hands slipping against the headboard when his hips thrusted to meet yours, “Fu-ff-fuck.” You were unsure if you were gonna be able to formulate any coherent words until you came. Ever the ass man Jungkook’s hands spread over your rear flesh guiding you up and down his rigid shaft as he pleased, tethering on the edge between teasing and pleasuring you, further torturing you and himself. 
But he couldn’t  help it, not when you were whispering sweet nothings into his ears, biting his shoulders, scratching his back, mewling and squealing at the feel of him hitting your deepest spot. So Jungkook repeated it as many times as he saw fit, pulling himself out only to slam back into you, feeling your stature tense around his strong arms as you teeth latched on to the skin of his collarbone.
Jungkook kept bouncing you on his cock, mouth extending towards your neglecting mounds, as he placed his hot mouth against it, sending tingles down your spine which made you grind against him. He lapped at the skin, tongue toying with your nipples, further guiding you up and down his dick with his strong hands. You held onto his forearm for balance, crying out into the air. “Ahhh fuck, please Jeon, fuck me more.” 
You were actually not making sense. How exactly was he supposed to fuck you more? You didn’t know but Jungkook made it known that he was the man. He held you still and steady above him and began his assault on your sensitive cunt. He bucked into your hips with a relentless speed that had your breast bouncing in his face, to his delight. Your thighs were burning, knees ready to give up as you screamed shamelessly. 
Jungkook hissed as he felt your pussy tighten around him, milking the come out of him. He didn’t know how much longer he could last. You sighed deeper into his thrusts when he spanked your ass shooting pleasure straight to your tightening core as you did your best to restrain your oncoming orgasm. You wanted it to last forever. 
You decided to start moving again, meeting his thrusts halfway, intensifying the effect as Jungkook’s arms wrapped around you, a hand anchoring itself at the back of your neck as he stared into your fucked out expression. You were sweaty, eyelids down but squeezed, mouth open, jaw slack and Jungkook couldn’t stop himself from kissing you. He pulled you down by your neck, lips rubbing against each other. You managed to kiss for short bursts of time frequently separating, mouths agape to gasp and moan at the feeling of each other, feeling yourselves close to coming. 
Your hand moved to cup Jungkook’s cheek before you tilted his head back with a gentle hair grab, “Jungkook, make me come,” you said before kissing up his jaw. The fact that you had called him by his first name for the first time was not lost on him and he couldn't control the wide smile that spread on his lips. “Anything for you darling,” he kissed into your neck.
Suddenly, reenergized Jungkook jolted his hips forward, stronger than before, digging deep into your soaked core as he marked your shoulder. His thighs pushed against your own, spreading you wider, no barrier in sight as his hand found your clit, which he rubbed in quick circles as he continued to roll his hips into yours, dick straining against the increased tightness. “Shit, you’re so fucking tight.” 
It was when Jungkook started to piston into you that you felt your body slowly lose itself. The knot in your stomach coiling, ready to snap, thighs trembling from being held in place. “Jungkook, I’m gonna come,” you whimpered. 
He didn't think he would ever get tired of you calling his name. “Come for me darling. Cream on my cock,” he demanded, hand digging into your ass as he continued rubbing your clit. A few more thrusts came along before you choked, body rigid as the coil in you snapped, and you gushed on Jungkook’s dick to his big pleasure. Your entire body quivering under his soothing caresses. You stayed in place, moaning when Jungkook swiped his hand past your pussy lips so he could have a taste. He hummed, fingers in his mouth, “You’re delicious darling.” You smiled too tired to give him any ounce of attitude. 
But you were not done yet, so you pulled through letting your raw cunt sink back down on Jungkook’s cock. You started moving to his enjoyment. You were sensitive so you went slow, but that didn't seem to have any less of an effect on Jungkook who huffed in between breaths, trying to enjoy as much of you before he came. You leaned into him, lips biting and licking his earlobe, “Can you come for me baby?” 
Were you playing dirty? Yes. But honestly you didn't know how much longer Jungkook could hold and you were sensitive, so you played on his apparent weakness, he liked to please and you liked to be pleased. On top of that his pulsating dick made it known that he liked the term of endearment. “Ohh god, please call me baby again,” he grunted.
“Will you come then?”
“Fuck yeah.”
With a couple more strokes in the bag, a tensed Jungkook under you, you raked your fingernails down his back, kissing up his shoulder to the junction between his shoulder and neck where you placed a light bite before licking your way up to his ear. “Baby,” you kissed the contour of his ear, “Jungkook, come in me baby,” you mewled, dropping down onto his shaft.
You gasped at the strong grasp Jungkook had on your hips as he grunted, hips stuttering into you. His hot breath heated your chest while his strong arms abused your skin and he kept mumbling curses under his breath with his eyes screwed shut. “Oh shit, ugh, fuck ahhh,  you’re….” He trailed off, speech rolling into sighs as he ran a hand down his face.
“I am ?,” you inquired.
“The best I’ve ever had,” he said hugging you. He wanted to say something else, but he doubted either of you were ready to deal with what it could possibly entail.
You got off of his lap to lay on the bed, exhausted but fully satisfied. After all, the eight month long pining was worth it.. You couldn’t wait to scream to Kyra about this. You could genuinely go the remaining of the year being celibate, that’s how satiated you felt.
Jungkook poked your side, bringing you back from your thoughts, “About that offer, I am up for it if you are,” he probed in a weary tone.
“What offer?”
“I mean I didn’t hear you too clearly, but I’m pretty sure you said something about being able to fuck me forever.”
You stayed silent. After all you didn’t know what kind of offer that involves sex he was making. The committed or uncommitted kind?
“I just thought, ya know,  we’re pretty compatible so we could scratch each other’s back once in a while.”
“Are you talking about being friends with benefits?”
“Yeah! That.” He turned to his side to gauge your reaction, “ Only if you want of course! Otherwise forget I asked.” 
You thought back to what Kyra said. There’s more to the male species than Jeon Jungkook. But honestly after the fuck you had just had, you were quite content with deluding yourself for a couple of months, or however long the arrangement could last.
You satt up on the edge of the bed, “Yeah, sure. I don’t mind.” 
“Oh! Okay, uhm cool then,” he said, sounding both surprised and enthusiastic.
You were dirty but you still put your clothes back on, stealing Jungkook’s t-shirt. “I’m taking this cause you tore my top off.” It was too big for you, but it smelled nice, like him. Maybe it could cover up the sex stench you had on.
“I would say I’m sorry, but I’m not .” He scratched the back of his head. You flip him off which made him chuckle.
You were fully clothed, shoes on, ready to exit the room. Jungkook was sporting his outfit too without the t-shirt and he totally resembled an exotic male dancer. You tore your eyes off his body before you started thinking things, turning around and reaching for the door handle.
“Hey, Y/N.”
“Hmm.”
“Your phone number?”
“Monday at Ms Diane’s after your shift,” you blurted out before leaving the room in a rush.
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You kept your promise and stopped by at Diane’s Rink for a quick greeting and a recital of your phone number. You wanted to stay longer, and had you asked Jungkook if it was okay with him, he would have rolled past and around you with an affirming smirk. 
After that you turned your text notifications back on. What followed was three days of losing your composure at the slight sound of a bling coming from your phone. Maybe you had overestimated Jungkook’s forwardness. It wasn’t until you bumped into him and his friend at the university’s lunch space a couple of days later that you got to see him again. The two of you were in different departments so you rarely had class in the same buildings. 
You ate in silence, eyes focused on the word dense pages of Jack Kerouac’s “On the Road”, so much the words jumbled together and you slammed the book shut, sighing into yet another bite of your bland chicken sandwich. You snuck another look at his table and he looked fine. You hadn’t expected him to look any different really but you thought maybe he had noticed you too. Sure you looked a lot less eye-catching than what you did at the party but one would be able to recognise someone they fucked not so long ago. Worse of it all, he had asked you and you were the one losing your mind over it. 
Appetite gone, you picked up your belongings and your small pile of trash, throwing the waste in the bin not far from his table. You had chosen to act on the hurt and growing anger inside of you, pulling out your phone to text him a petty, “Nice to see you too asshole 🖕”. 
You hadn’t even cared that you were blowing your cover, revealing that you were in fact already in possession of his number, further adding to your desperation. You stood back for a few moments but out of sight just to see his reaction. Jungkook had retrieved his phone from his pocket, taking a quick look at his screen before hastily lifting his head to look at the table where you had been sitting. So he saw…. 
You could have left unnoticed but you were already on your dramatic streak so you chose to storm out of the hall, passing by his apprehensive eyes. If only you had turned around just for a split second, enough to decipher the pleased expression on his face, you would have in fact known that Jungkook was quite happy to know that wanted it just as much as him. He considered that a needed affirmation for him to move forward, speeding past the green light.
It wasn’t long Jungkook grabbed hold of you after your “Literary and Cultural Theory” class.
“Hey! Slow down, I’m about to drop my books,” you had alarmed him shuffling hastily behind his combat boots and he couldn’t have shown you that he gave any less of a shit when he instead quickened his stride. 
It wasn’t long before you were dragged into the cramped confinement of his car. Books, bags and clothes in the front seats while an eager Jungkook and a confused you took refuge in the back seat. You shivered against the cool fabric of the seat as Jungkook’s chest warmed you up from above as he huffed and puffed beside your ear for every pointed thrust he landed deep within your gushing core. You had tried and failed at keeping your voice down. You stared out of the window attempting to calm your breathing by synchronising it with the lazy fall of browned tree leafs. 
You had accomplished a couple of firsts in that moment, First time having car sex (which wasn’t as hot as you thought it would be but Jungkook made up for it), and dabbling in slight exhibitionism behind Jungkook’s tinted back seat windows (which surprisingly left you more horny than expected). 
“Ready to get started with this darling?” He asked, sweating skin leaving yours as his softening cock left your entrance earning a gasp from your side of the car.
“A head’s up would have been nice.” Your hand searched the front seat for your panties.
“But isn’t that the fun part?” He snapped his condom shut. “Plus it’s not like I, or even you can control when you feel like doing it.”
You were ready to refute his reasoning but he made a point and you held your tongue. 
“Fine, but don’t abuse your fuck n’ go rights or I’ll get stingy. I don’t have your stamina Jeon.” You tore your head to the side after putting on your t-shirt to look at him, eyes demanding him to say he’ll behave.
“Okay, okay, sure I’ll try.”
That was the first big lie he had told you.
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Since then, the thrill that came with getting regular dick in unexpected places never ceased and as you’re now watching Jungkook tear the rink apart with his calculated moves and pristine performance on shiny black roller skates, you know exactly how you would like your next appointment to be. 
Despite having been fuck buddies for over three months, the prospect of Jungkook roleplaying in his work uniform never had been a reality. You think it’s about time you change that. 
The air in the rink is fiery in spite of the cool winter air outside, people cram together at the edge of the rink to watch the contestants. After an unexpected turn of events, the annual “Disco Craze” roller skating contest had been short of one judge. Miss Diane hurried to find a replacement in the crowd. Of course you had jumped at the opportunity, after all you had arrived too late to the rink to get a good spot to watch the competition. Maybe it was your enthusiasm or your familiar face but to your delight you got picked.
This year’s contestants are far better than last year and both as a judge and a friend you’re fearing for Jungkook’s current winning streak. However, that’s a fear he doesn’t seem to share. Not with the way he glides smoothly to the beat of “I Don't Feel Like Dancin'” by Scissor Sisters. He soaks in the cheering crowd, spot rexing with a goofy smile on your face. 
This is probably the first time you really get to see Jungkook roller skate, you knew he was good, everyone had told you, just not that he was this good. 
His happiness while he scissors across the rink is contagious. He mouths the lyrics towards the crowd and unlike the song title, you see the soft sway of bodies moving to the beat. You’re left smiling before you know it, foot tapping along. He does a quick jump into a spin, before he speeds towards the judge’s table only to stop abruptly as he body rolls backwards. You shake your head, feeling more aware of the tactics Jungkook must have employed throughout the years to win. His number is over before you know it. 
There are a total of eleven contestants. But from what you’ve seen it’s between Jungkook and a girl who performed a great number to Gloria Gaynor’s “I Will Survive”. During the intermission to allow the public to cast their vote, you shuffle away to buy some kit kats at the little snack shop beside the handoff counter for the roller skates. 
You finish one pack and buy a second which Jungkook snatches from your hands when he joins you. 
“Thank you,” he sticks out his tongue at you before ripping the red packaging and biting into your kit kat. 
“You’re gonna pay for that,” you sneer.
“Oooo I’m so scared.” He laughs a bit too loud, giving you a full view of his kit kat filled mouth. Sometimes you really want to hit him upside the head. “Sooo, what did you think?”
“About what?”
“My skating, duh! I’m pretty good, right?” He lifts an eyebrow cocking his head as he goes in for another aggressive bite of your kit kat.
“Meh, it was okay,” you say, walking away from the shop counter to sit by one of the benches near the rink. 
“Okay!?”
“Yeah, just okay Jeon, The girl, uhm, what’s her number?” You know her number. “You know, the one with the yellow skates, she could totally beat you.”
You’re partially trying to mess with him but you’re also being honest. Her performance really was that good. “Pfft, whatever. I know I have loyal fans.” He sits down besides you and leans against the wall. “Sure, you do,” you mumble.
With one bar of the kit kat left, he extends the package to you and says, “As long as you don’t vote for her I’ll forgive your hurtful words.”
You take it, because it’s a kit kat, you would never say no. “Bribing judges Jeon, huh? What other tricks apart from this and those body rolls do you have up your sleeve?” You munch on the bar.
“Tricks that will make you cry if you don’t vote for me darling,” he says loud enough for only you to hear. He brings his hand onto your thigh, running upwards close enough to where he could cup your cunt with his big palm making your breath hitch, but he just squeezes your thigh and lifts himself off the bench to return to the rink. You swallow the leftover chunks of kit kat in your mouth before you end up choking, throw the package in the bin and walk away, trying to act as unbothered as Jungkook.
Miss Diane’s voice booms through the speaker letting everyone know that the intermission is over and the votes have been counted. Having judges at this contest is more so for an official feel, for the most part the judges never needed to vote. The results from the public’s vote were usually quite decisive, even if a judge’s vote equalled ten times the single vote a person from the public got. 
As it looks now, it is 84-64 to the girl with yellow skates. You don’t think you’ve ever seen Jungkook so unhappy, not even after he had lost points for a minor mistake when calculating his error on an experiment for a chemistry paper. He looks at you once he feels your gaze, his eyes reinforcing the little chat you had earlier. 
It’s time for the judges to cast their vote. Mr. Ludwig, the owner of a café just a few blocks away, votes, to your surprise, for Jungkook. And as expected so does Miss Diane. It’s a tie.
Ten decisive points. 
Your points to give. 
Jungkook is staring at you, she isn’t. Jungkook likes to take your things from you, she doesn’t even know you. Jungkook threatens you, she has never even talked to you. But most importantly Jungkook is good at skating, he did really well but Miss “Yellow Skates” was better.
Mind set on who you’re voting for. Your arm lifts up her number. Number seven. 
Jungkook lowers his heads, chuckling lightly into his chest before he looks up and congratulates the winner, clapping along with the crowd. He skates off the rink to let her perform her winning number once again. You’re still seated by the judge’s table before thumping steps grow louder coming towards you. Just like the time he pulled you away for your first quickie in his car, he yanks you off the seat, gently enough not to bring about anyone’s attention but strong enough for you to feel the nature of your current predicament. 
“You’re so fucked,” he growls pushing in the direction of the staff room. 
“I know,” you can’t help but giggle. Ultimately this was the perfect opportunity. You fulfil your fantasy of fucking him in his embellished uniform and you also get to make sure someone who’s better than him wins. Two birds, one stone. You don’t think you’ve ever been this effective. 
Jungkook slams the door to the room shut, but doesn’t lock it. He drags you towards the door of the bathroom stalls. “Ehh, you sure about that Jeon?”
He pushes you along from behind, hand on your back, “Don’t worry, it’s clean,” he says softly before closing the door to the small stall to whisper into shoulder, “Unlike what you’re gonna be when I’m done with you.”
Jungkook’s naked arms wrap around your torso, hands landing on your hardened nipples over the fabric of your turtleneck as his mouth nips at the back of your neck. “I warned you darling.” You moan, ass rubbing against his groin enough to elicit a groan. “I won’t stop until you’re crying.” He wraps a hand around neck, right hand smoothly undoing your jeans as his hand dances on top of your skin, down your needy core and past your wet lips.
He does this as many times as he pleases. This isn’t about you. It’s about him using you. He follows the sway of your hips giving into your chase for his fingers, dipping into your heat, slowly. He starts with a finger, swirling it around, humming at the satisfying feel of you being so wet and ready for him. He squeezes your throat in approval. When he feels you clench at that he goes on to add a second finger. “Ugh, Jeon faster, please.”
Does he like how politely you’re being? Yes. But you know what else would have been polite? You voting for him. “Oh no, I don’t think so darling.” He adds a third finger and your back stutters against his broad chest, head thrown back against his shoulder. “You like that?” You nod your head, lips caught in between your teeth to repress your moans. “Then let me hear you darling.” You bite down harder on your lips. 
Now with three fingers deep in you, stretching your cunt as your juices slide down his digits he picks up his speed. He keeps his strokes irregular, he never wants you to know what's coming. In and out unlike your breaths. You have resorted to shallow breathing, head turning for you to bury your nose into Jungkook’s veiny neck, as he makes a mockery out of you. He gives you a momentary break, stuffing his mouth with his fingers, “Oh yeah, desperation is a good taste on you.” He hums reaching his fingers towards your mouth which you open to taste yourself, whining at the back of your throat. “My darling is such a good girl,” he says biting your earlobe. 
The hand that was on your throat, moves to roll your jeans past your thighs and past your knees. 
“Do you even have a condom?” You croak as a chill runs down your leg from the cold air. 
“What kind of question is that? When is that I’m never prepared?” He says, foot coming between yours to spread your legs. “I had planned for a sweet and gentle celebratory fuck after the competition, but you’re you and now we’re here.” You purr through your shivers when he runs his hands on the inside of your thighs, grazing your pussy before the pads of his fingers knead your ass. 
Frankly you’re a bit glad to have escaped his initial plan. Having sweet sex with Jungkook was never your forté, while he could switch easily between his rough and gentle personas, you were never able to act normal when faced with the dulcet tones of his praises and the soothing touches of his body against yours. With a clenched and curved back, feet planted against the mattress for leverage, he would ram slowly but firmly, head secured in the depth of your collarbones as his cock reached the depth of you, making you quaver beneath him. On occasions like that, you never stuck around for too long after you were done. Jungkook had a habit of asking if you had enjoyed the act as if he wasn’t the one on top of you appeasing your frantic high and kissing throaty moans away.
No, you preferred this, when he grabs your roughly by your rear, landing a few spanks that have your arms reaching for the walls of the stall to steady yourself as he grunts at how much wetter you’re becoming. Or at least you could deal with it better. 
“Bend over for me darling.” 
You bend over instantly when Jungkook’s arms leave your upper body, hands landing on the lid of the toilet to catch yourself. You had found yourself in this position before, and you had cried the most in all of those moments. But you had never been standing. Not to predict the future, but you’re sure Jungkook will have to carry you into an orgasm, unless he wants you to kneel on all four on the floor. 
Jungkook runs his drenched index down your spine, hand lifting back for another spank. “Ah!” And another to reprimand your scream, “Keep your voice down, unless you want us to be found out,” he smirks behind you, hand cupping your heat only to dip a finger into you without warning.
“Ohhh, shit,” you slur, fingers raking the surface of the lid. Jungkook shows no sign of being gentle, fingers abusing your pussy, driving in and out of you at an alarming speed. 
When his digits curl inside of you right before a slow exit you clamp your hand around your mouth for fear of being too loud. Despite that, your soft cries are still audible to him making him smile before he resumes his explosive fingering. “I don’t think I could ever get tired of this sound,” He says, bringing his other hand under your stomach to probe your swollen and neglected clit. 
While the hastened pace of his fingers continue within you making you clench around the protrusion, Jungkook adopts a mellow pace to his massaging of your clit. The dual attack leaves you conflicted, unsure which way to rock your hips. “Arghhh,” you bite in your upper arm, clenching again around his digits. “Aww, my darling wants to come,” he coos. You rock your hips back in response. 
“Oh, but then you should have voted for me, don’t you think?” You almost cry at the loss of contact, when your cunt is left empty and gapping. 
You see him take a small step back to lean against the door of the stall. You exhale, still bend over, legs buckling when your thighs meet in a futile effort to relieve some tension. “You good there?” You can hear the amusement in his voice, but you find this far from funny. 
“Jeon, please,” you say in a low, weak voice.
Ever since the first time he fucked you, Jungkook has always enjoyed toying with you, both outside and inside the bedroom. Whether it was borrowing (re: stealing) your favourite pens or taking a bite and in worse case scenario a whole portion of whatever it’s you’re eating. But nothing had ever topped this. Having you desperate to reach your orgasm and yet denying you that pleasure was a big favourite of his. He’s sure he could easily get himself off right now, ripping his condom off at the right moment just for him to decorate the smooth roundness of your ass with warm white stripes.
“Jeon.” He might have chosen to make you come had you called him Jungkook instead. But you’re you and he’s enjoying himself so he stays put.
“For old times sake, I think you should use me if you want to come so bad,” he says nonchalantly. 
“Really, Jeon?” 
“As real as you not voting for me, yes.” You shake your head. Jungkook’s competitive streak usually worked to your advantage. You enjoyed telling him how you doubt he could do something just to have him do it to you. It was just like asking, without the actual asking. You might have been able to pull something similar for his fingering skills but you’re both well aware of how many times the pounding from his rough digits has made you come.
Your hands push against the lid of the toilet, your frame wobbles a bit once you’re standing up straight and you can hear Jungkook’s giggly response. You turn around, slowly, to face his slightly red face and the very prominent bulge in his pants. He follows your eyes.
“Don’t worry about me,” he says readjusting his pants but only making the matter worse, “I can wait.” 
You lift your head, step closer to him so you can catch a hold of the wrist below his wet hand. “Three,” you say, eyes travelling down his face to his parted lips. Adjusting your stance, you guide his three flexed out digits towards your dripping entrance. “Kiss me.”
While he likes toying with you, Jungkook is rather obedient especially when it advantages him. So he drops his head, hair tickling your nose, before his lips settle on yours. In that moment, you drive his fingers past your drenched nether lips as you moan into his kiss. 
You’re convinced Jungkook’s dick is feeling a bit uncared for despite his reassurance. Doing your best to fuck yourself on his fingers, your hand gets occupied with palming his hard member. You’re totally only focusing on pleasuring yourself so much he cups the hand you have his cock and reinforces your grip and kneading. He hums into your kiss, satisfied and probably leaking in his boxers. 
You suddenly let go of his reddened lips when he spreads his digits inside of you, the pads of his fingers grazing your walls, making you whine into his neck. You slow down your pace, feeling how close you are, “Jun– oh fuck, yeah right there.” His pace quickens once he registers the tremors in your legs. Fingers plunging deeper into your leaking pussy. Both hands free, you engulf Jungkook’s stature, holding on as his other hand grabs a strong hold of your cheeks to plant a harsh kiss on your lips.
He spreads his fingers and jams them in and out of you, He whispers for you to come on him, to let him hear you exhale choked breaths for him to remember tonight when he’s jerking off to the thought of you. You do just that.
Your chest heaves, fingernails digging into his back, face hiding from Jungkook’s protruding eyes as the tension in your core ruptures and your legs go slack. “Oh god, fuck me.” 
“All in due time darling,” he answers back, hand running down your back.
“I meant to say fuck you, Jeon.” You manage to croak out once you’re sure you’ve reached the complete end of your orgasm.
Your hands loosen around his back and you step back, head turning down to stare at the slick on your inner thighs. “Surprised?” He inquires.
“No. Not exactly,” your head lift, “you’ve have probably ruined sex for me with other people for a while.”
Jungkook might have taken your statement as a compliment dick twitching in response, but you were in all honesty a bit horrified at the thought. How long is a while? This can’t last forever, can it ?
“Let’s take care of that since I’m feeling apologetic.” You point at his bulge. Your hands wrap around the neon green belt on his pants undoing it and slowly releasing his strained cock. It still looked as deliciously curved, bloodshot and veiny against his stomach as the last time you saw it, which was a mere two days ago at his dorm. 
You’re about to lower yourself onto unstable knees, “Uh-uh, some other time,” he says turning you around and bending you over again. What can he say? He really enjoyed the view of your ass, “Right now, I want to feel your pussy around me.”
When Jungkook hastily eases the throbbing length into your wet core without warning, you deduce that he’s still a bit angered about your vote. Anger that seems to dissipate once he’s fully rooted in you. “Oh this is the best  feeling in the world,” he moans from above you.
He isn’t looking for a sweet fuck today and directly resorts to slamming into you, making your hands slide against the lid off the toilet. You moan, tossing your head back when the hands on your ass knead the flesh and spread your cheeks for him to continue his eager ramming. When you’re already clenching, pulling jagged groans from Jungkook’s throat, you know you won’t last long.
“Hey, careful there,” he coos at you, lifting you up to place your hands on the tank of the toilet. “Wouldn’t want you to hit your head. That’s not how I want to make you cry.” He slows down his strokes enough to allow you to steady your grip on the tank and then resumes sinking down into you at his rushed speed.
The force with which he pistons into you is enough to have your legs hitting against the edge of the seat, as your fingers fumble to keep you stable accidentally flushing the toilet once in a while. Jungkook fucks and spanks you to his heart’s desire. “Look how good you’re to me,” he praises, hand pinching your nipple before constricting the movement of your breath. “Jungko–” He rams into you. He loves taking your breath away mid-moan. “Fuck, why are you so big?” You mewl, eyes watering as he repeatedly removes himself from your depths only to slam back in.
Jungkook feels your pussy clench around him, slowly milking him dry, getting him closer to his own orgasm. So he reaches down, arms wrapping around your torso, hands on your mounds as he pulls your back against his chest. “Can you spread your legs a little for me darling?” He asks softly and you comply. Whatever he chooses to ask right now you’re sure you will comply. You moan when you feel him deeper.
“You like the way my cock feels in you?”
“Yes,” you whimper. “You fill me up so good.”
Jungkook can’t help the chuckle that escapes him, “I don’t think you’ve ever complimented my dick this much.” He bites your shoulder, hips bucking harsly against yours, “My darling is that desperate?” You shake your head against his shoulder, biting into your bottom lip.
You might be chasing your own orgasm, but despite that you’re being truthful. Jungkook has the best dick you’ve ever ridden. He knows the places that make you lose it, and he can reach them. He takes care of you even when he’s toying with you. You’ve never been left unsatisfied or hurt. Honestly, he’s a great fuck buddy. Also he’s just Jungkook.
“What are you thinking about?” He asks through gritted teeth.
“You.”
It slips out of you and you can’t take it back, not when you’re sure he heard it so clearly. Jungkook stills at the sound of your confession and you finally get to take a deep breath. 
Your eyes might be screwed shut but you’re certain of the look on Jungkook’s eyes as he peers down at your head thrown back above his shoulder. It’s the same look he has been giving you more and more often lately. A look you had been trying to avoid. It didn’t feel like he was just looking at you, but inside you. Or more so looking for something inside of you.
You manage a couple of breaths before Jungkook proceeds his strokes with an even greater ferocity than before. “Ah–a–ah,” you choke out as your hands cup his hands that are firmly planted around your breasts. The sound of Jungkook’s hips slapping against your ass fills the confined stall and you release a cry each time he gains leverage leaving your walls battered and full. 
He doesn’t stop. He keeps going murmuring the occasional “Mine” into the air with furrowed eyebrows as you clench harder around him. His throbbing member slides into you, fully sheathed within your warmth. Once, twice, thrice. Enough times to make you dizzy and lose count. And with each slap of ass against hips you offer a guttural moan, eyes tearing up, legs trembling. 
“Jeo– I’m cl–oh fuck, so close.”
Jungkook's warm finger caresses your pussy. “ I know darling.” His palm kneads into your clit, the overwhelming stimulation makes you choke down a sob. “Just let go, I’m here,” he whispers, nose buried against your cheek.
A few more calculated strokes from Jungkook’s hips has him buried deep in your seeping cunt, sloppy thumps surrounding your combined moans and groans. Maybe it’s the way Jungkook’s left hand caresses the breast over your heart, or the cushioned kisses he places against your jaw or the way he lets himself go right before you come. Or maybe it’s all of those things that make you cream on his cock, juices gushing down your thighs and onto him as he kisses you deeply, tongue wrapping around yours to catch your moans, teeth pulling on your lips the same way you pull at his heartstrings. Only when you’re gasping for air does his lips let go of yours.
“You good?”
“Yeah, all good” you sigh.
“Come on, look at me?” 
You do your best to remove any trace of tear streaks as fast as possible, removing your face from the crook of his neck. 
Jungkook still sees, “I am that good, huh?”
“Whatever,” you roll your eyes. 
“You’re such a cry baby,” he teases and you can’t refute, he gives your cheek a peck, “and I kinda love it.”
You’re really not a cry baby. Jungkook’s stroke game is just that good. No matter how diluted your conscience is you could never deny his claim. The state in which you’re left is proof enough. 
Jungkook slips out of you, soft cock against sensitive walls. He uses what’s at his disposal and rips off some toilet paper to clean the combined result of your yearning between your legs. It takes a couple of toilet strips to get the job done.
“Thanks,” you mumble when he’s done, flushing the used paper.
“No problem, darling.” He lifts your pants back up, reaching for your discarded top as well. “I can be the caring type you know.”
With a scoff leaving your chest you pluck your t-shirt off of his hands, “No need to convince me, Jeon.”
You really didn’t need convincing. Jeon Jungkook is a reasonable guy. He is a friend you can count on, ambitious when it comes to his studies, smart enough to do double majors (if he had made the choice), good-looking even in the most unflattering circumstances, a champ in bed and sometimes too sweet for his and your own good. 
You had gotten to know all these sides of him with time, some of which came to your knowledge involuntarily, like how he always has a packet of kit kats stashed away for you for whenever you come over to hang and occasionally study before you fuck. The same way you had found yourself reaching for a softer scented detergent after you found out from one of his roommates that he isn’t fond of strong fragrances. 
You had both picked up clues about each other, whether it was voluntary or involuntary. 
And, yes maybe he’s more than reasonable, he’s quite great actually. But Kyra thinks you deserve greater. You don’t know how much you agree with her. But you do acknowledge the fact that Jungkook has been the only one you’ve done whatever this is with. You don’t have much to compare him to, except for the occasional rendezvous you would have back home with men you met on tinder. Maybe you need to explore some more? 
“Ah, I think I still need to convince you some more,” he says to your back after ruffling back into his pants. 
You turn around to face that look you dread. “Whatever floats your boat.” You rush to open the stall’s door, hurried breath brushing against Jungkook’s neck as you storm out towards the sink. You wash your hands to keep yourself from looking at him where he stands against the door frame, styled hair grazing his still flushed cheeks.
Jungkook joins you to wash his own hands. You dry yourself, letting the hot air from the hand dryer drown out the silence. With one final look at the mirror you attempt to look presentable and composed. Jungkook flicks water at you. You throw him a warning look. He does it again.
“Jeon, stop it.” You take a paper towel to dab yourself dry. He does it again.
You exhale a slow breath, ”It’s really not funny and it’s a waste of water.” 
But in true Jungkook fashion he gives it another go. “Jungkook!” You shriek making him crack a scrunched up smile.
He keeps at it until you crack a smile of your own in defeat. “See, eventually you always come around,” he says and you’re confused. He has been throwing a lot of these weird statements at you lately. 
“Okay…. but for now I’m gonna leave before you start annoying me again.”
You walk towards the door, a cool hand touching the cool handle. “You know you can be in my boat too right?” Your step staggers. “It won’t sink or anything, we could both float in it.”
You chuckle, “Be patient Jeon”. Maybe Kyra isn’t right for once. You close your eyes into a stabilizing breath. “I planned on crying some more so I can be sure it will keep floating even with me on it,” you say to the door before walking out.
Jungkook might have lost the competition, but he won something far better. Your reassurance.
It’s with a triumphant smile and a bounce to his step that Jungkook exits the staff room and heads back to skate with part of the public that’s now in the rink. His eyes search for your whereabouts only to land on your hand closing around another kit kat. You’re always consistent with the things and people you like he thinks with a smirk on his face.
“That’s my cry baby.”
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thank you for reading my fic, i hope you enjoyed it 🥺 any feedback or comment is welcomed !!
all rights reserved namgee
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swbumblebee · 3 years
Text
He wasn’t hiding. Jedi Masters don’t hide. Mace Windu doesn’t hide. He just so happened to be in the furthest, quietest part of the archives where it was unlikely anybody would run into him.
He closed his eyes, breathing in the silence as he progressed. This period in time was turning out to be much more taxing than it had been the first time around. Then again, last time he wasn’t trying to formulate a plan to assassinate the Chancellor and decide the fate of a few million potential clones, at the same time as running the order and keeping an eye on two of the most unpredictable boys he had ever met.
Well, a boy and a young man.
Another reason for his journey. He could sense young Anakin’s blindingly strong presence and Obi-Wan’s steady, shielded light, getting closer and closer as he journeyed through the stacks.
What in the galaxy were they doing here?
A high-pitched giggle stopped him in his tracks.
“No Master! It’s Goodd`e da Lodia, otherwise it doesn’t make sense!”
“Alright alright, how’s this? Goodde da Loddia”
“Gooddè”
“Don’t just repeat it Padawan. Sound it out for me, like we do with Basic”
“OK, Goo-dd-è”
“Goodde”
Mace cleared his throat.
“Good day”
Both young Jedi started, Obi-Wan nearly dropped the mug of tea that seemed to be permanently attached to his hand these days.
“Master Mace!” ten year old Anakin cried happily, pushing pleasure into the Force with enthusiasm, to a wince from his Master, who was exuding just the right amount of polite welcome from behind his shields.
“Hello Master Windu” Obi-Wan nodded at him with a somewhat tired smile. He made to get up from the dusty little table squeezed into the alcove and tucked into the wall, but the Master of the Order waved a hand.
“What’s all this?” he asked, eying the various pads and pieces of flimsi littering the table and the floor.
Instead of the usual bouncy response there was an unexpected, rather pregnant, silence and young Anakin gave his teacher a (not terribly subtle) worried look.
“Anakin is teaching me Huttese” Obi-Wan answered smoothly. The boy in question nodded vigorously, and Mace watched with a small amount of amusement as he ever so slightly kicked a piece of flimsy further under the table.
“How…interesting”
“Yes, as you probably heard, it’s not going terribly well” Obi-Wan gave him a self-deprecating smile, no doubt taking note of Mace’s incredulity. He turned to his Padawan.
“Anakin, could you make sure Madam Nu doesn’t close up this section yet, and let her know we won’t be long.”
The boy looked at his Master, and they gave each other a tiny understanding nod. Anakin’s Force signature flared ever so slightly with…fear? before it was quickly soothed by Obi-Wan, Mace assumed.
“Sure Master, be right back” The child took off among the stacks with a smile at Mace.
“Walk please, don’t run!” the young Master called after him, shaking his head.
Mace took the empty seat at the table, taking in the mess once more.
“So…Huttese?” he asked mildly, looking at a nearby pad “and…The Bantha who came for Life day?” he raised his eyebrows at the simple children’s story in Basic.
“Ahh, yes.” The young man chewed on his lip a little as he gathered his thoughts. Mace waited patiently, eyeing a nearby piece of flimsi with the Galactic Basic alphabet written out half a dozen times in shaky writing.
“Anakin is a bright boy” Obi-Wan began slowly. “He has an incredible knowledge of mechanics and electronics, and mathematics comes very easily to him.” He said, unable to keep a proud smile off his face, until he turned serious eyes on Mace again. “There are some areas, however, where he has a lot of catching up to do. He isn’t quite at his age level yet with his literacy.”
Mace frowned.
“Not quite at his age level?” he clarified, with a sinking feeling.
“Ah, no.” Obi-Wan paused again. “Obviously there wasn’t much cause for reading and writing in his previous…position” Both of them scowled at the euphemism “and whilst he can obviously speak it fluently” Obi-Wan sighed. “Anakin never learned to read and write in Basic.” he finished, rather apprehensively.
Mace blinked.
“He…can’t read or write?”
Obi-Wan shook his head. He crossed his arms in front of himself, wrists aligning with elbows. Mace recognised the nervous tick even if it was usually under his robe sleeves.  
“He is getting there though” the young man implored “we’re working on it, and he’s a fast learner. I assure you he’ll be up to standard in the next few months.”
Mace breathed out, shaking his head. He could’ve kicked himself.
One more way they had all let Anakin Skywalker down. Of course he wouldn’t be able to study at the level of core-educated temple younglings. He was a slave, the very idea was preposterous.
“But…how has he got on with his classes so far? He’s been here nine months already” Mace asked, deliberately keeping his voice light. He wasn’t going to admonish the only being in the temple who had actually been helping the boy. And it looked like, spending all his free time doing it.
Obi-Wan nodded.
“We work on assignments together, Anakin records his comprehension and writing class and we go through it afterwards.”
Mace took a moment to marvel at the kindness of Obi-Wan Kenobi.
“Obi-Wan” he said gently. “You have your own teaching and advanced training to work on, not to mention the Master level courses.”
He instantly knew he’d said the wrong thing when fierce blue eyes turned on him and the younger Jedi straightened his posture.  
“I am perfectly capable of teaching him Master, he is my Padawan.” He paused, looking down at the table “I won’t put him in a class with the younglings. I won’t allow him to feel like he is less than the other Padawans, like he’s unintelligent.” He said firmly.
For a moment Mace was transported to council meetings with his friend, Master Kenobi arguing his point with words as strong as durasteel and a determination that could move planets. He felt a sudden pang of loss, looking at his friend’s twenty-two-year-old face.
“Of course not” Mace assured, pushing apology into the Force around them. He looked at the table. “But this isn’t sustainable Obi-Wan. You don’t need to do this alone.” He said quietly
The Knight blinked in surprise. Mace nearly rolled his eyes. Had asking for help really never crossed his mind? He made a mental note to focus more of his and Plo’s energy on Kenobi Support Duty.
“Yes.” He repeated firmly. “I will take him for an hour a week” he winced inwardly when he thought of his already busting schedule. Save Skywalker, save the Galaxy he reminded himself. “As, I’m sure, will Master Plo.”
Obi-Wan was giving him a look that was very difficult to decipher, halfway between wary and relieved.
“I…thank you Master” he bowed a little in his seat “that’s very kind of you and I…appreciate it.”
Mace smiled again, satisfied. He couldn’t sense the ball of energy that was Anakin Skywalker yet, obviously still on his quest.
“So you’re teaching Anakin Basic, and he’s teaching you Huttese…?” Mace raised his eyebrows in question again.
Obi-Wan’s ears started to turn ever so slightly pink.
“Ah yes” he cleared his throat. “I just thought…if Anakin considers the way a language is formed and taught, it might help with his own practice. And this way we’re learning together; it might boost his self-esteem a little.” The young Knight paused thoughtfully. “I want to emphasise that learning happens at any age and stage” He explained slowly, and then gave a sheepish smile. “And it’s quite fun” he admitted shyly.
Mace regarded the wise young man across from him. Obi-Wan Kenobi had been wasted in a war, in that other time.
Nerd. He thought fondly.
As Anakin practically skipped back over to them, attempting to sit on his Master in lieu of a third chair, he observed the two Jedi (bickering happily) who could have existed that first time around, if only they’d had more than each other.
Well, this time they had Mace, and Plo. And they’d be dammed if either of their boys ended up carrying the weight of the Galaxy, this time around.
709 notes · View notes
spiltscribbles · 3 years
Note
Prompt: Pro Athlete Sirius because that my and Remus' kink
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~Notes: OMFG VICTOrIA!!!! I FUCKING SCREECHED!!!! lkadfjlaksdgjoiaejfalskdgjioeugisfkldshg Yes tis my kink as well!!! And then I saw this from Nonny and worlds collided and BOOM! I hope you like this my love<3<3 You incredibly talented sugarplum!!! TBH I want to write a thousand more things in this AU XD
.-
FROM THIS LIST  |  Send Me A Prompt!💜 | A REBLOG MEANS THE GALAXY!!💜
.-
When Remus was young— surrounded by the light breeze of the Welsh coast and the harmony of birds chirping in the distance— he would follow his mother to their small garden behind their cottage  at the cusp of twilight as his father cooked their supper, and he’d watch as she laid flat all sorts of newspapers written in French and Arabic and English, watch as she brought her red pen against the ink and marked the articles with underlines and shorthand he wouldn’t understand for years still.
He asked her once, when he was barely eight years old, why she bothered to keep up with so many different publications, why she read the same story penned by countless perspectives when all the facts stayed the same at the end of the day. And he remembers how she had let out a quick, shrill of a laugh, tossing back her golden head while sucking in a puff from the bubbling hookah she had set up besides her— a habit she acquired from her Algerian, refugee parents, and one that became synonymous to those late nights in Remus’s eyes.
“Facts can be wielded to someone’s personal vendettas, Remus John,” she had crooned in that adoring way of hers whenever she spoke to him— honey eyes that were the same color and shape to Remus’s own flashing alight and their matching smiles going crooked in her stunningly beautiful face. 
“Oh.” Remus had replied, still confused as all get out but was perfectly fine with just holding his small vigil, watching her beneath moonlight and the soft glow of their outdoors lamps, as he listened to the shuffling of papers while she commenced this odd quirk. 
It’s a decade and a half later—  as his editor for the Phoenix, a small, but bustling online editorial that plans on dethroning the likes of Politico and Vox in only a matter of years, scans his latest findings on the corrupt boosters linked to MP Avery from Leeds— when Remus thinks he suddenly understands what his mother, with her keen eyes and pixelated air, had meant by facts in how they can be colored differently simply by the words surrounding them. And he wonders if one day soon, one of his bylines will join her little stack of stories, if she’ll be proud of him even if she says as much even now, when he’s a lost twenty-something stumbling through life in the capitol and barely making it as is, between his actual job and the gig he has at the coffee shop nearest his dingy flat he shares with three other blokes.
“Mmm, this is good, Lupin,” Dorcas declares after what feels like an eon, dropping her long, dark legs from where they were lounging leisurely on her desk and scuffs out her cigarette in a pretty, glass ashtray. “Send it over to Flores to look into deeper, maybe it’ll corroborate the info she’s already gotten from her sources.”
Remus feels himself bristle, hopes that it doesn’t show, that his face stays passive as he contends, “I think I should at least help her write the expose, I’m the one who got this bombshell.”
“That’s not how it works, sweets,” Dorcas toots, tossing back her dark head of curls as she rises, perching on the corner of her desk delicately and looking down, straight into his gaze. “I know it’s frustrating, but you’re fresh blood. barely six months here, but Alice has been with us for years. This is her baby, and we’re just here to nurture it.”
“So I’ll have to wait another ten months, at least,  to get the same treatment?” He argues in an admittedly petulant way, making Dorcas laugh endearingly, and Remus is suddenly,  searingly reminded of his age, and how he’s the youngest staffer that this London based news outlet has on hand. 
“C’mon, love, it won’t be that long for someone as sharp as you, just be patient, and don’t try to pull a Zoe Barnes on us, yeah? You’re far too pretty to clean up on the rails of  the tube.” Dorcas tousles a hand into his dark tawny curls, and Remus holds back the roll to his eyes that he feels willing up inside of him as he stands fully.
“Thanks Cas.”
She smiles beatifically, and throws him a wink. “You’re joining Emmy for the report tomorrow on those United footballers and their fundraiser for the hospital, yeah?”
“Bright and early,” Remus replies, still feels a bit miffed that he was chosen to write up the charity function, considering he doesn’t know a lick about football and doesn’t really get on with anyone who does. But Caradoc— their typical sports reporter— is out sick with the flew, so it’s on him. “I’ll have it on your desk early enough so it’ll be published by tea time.”
“Good man,” Dorcas says in thanks, picking up her crowing cellphone before waving him off.
Remus isn’t all that surprised when he strides out of the office only to find Benjy Fenwick sitting against the opposite wall, knees pressed to his chest and quickly scrambling up when he catches sight of Remus. Sometimes it’s impossible to believe that the bespectacled man in front of him is one of the top editors for the Phoenix, that he’s a regular corespondent for places like the BBC or CNN— that his rebukes against the piss poor inquiries waged during PMQs have become more anticipated than the sessions themselves. Remus tends to forget all of that when he sees him like this, messy haired and wearing a graphic T-shirt with some marvel superhero embossed on the front. “Wotcher Remus.”
“Hiya Remus says, smiling softly and rocking back on his heels. “You wanted to talk to the sergeant then?”
“Huh? Oh, no, no. I didn’t want to talk to Dorcas, I just— Erm, I know you were showing her that stuff you got from that intern, Pettigrew, and i know you were chafed about not getting any opportunity here so—“ He trails off, scratching the back of his head and studying a point over Remus’s shoulder, and it’s all too endearing, and Remus is so beyond thankful he’s made such a good friend here.
“No cigar,” he says in answer to the unspoken question, shrugging noncommittally even if he feels like shit over it.
Benjy nods, face contrite in a way that tells Remus he never thought it would’ve went otherwise. “I’m sorry, that’s bollocks.”
“’S whatever,” Remus shrugs off the apology, begins walking down the hall and straightening his report to hand over to Alice. 
“Ah,, erm. We can get a drink, yeah? In commiseration,” Benjy offers, and Remus stilts only for a beat before continuing the twisting trail to where Alice is set up with the more senior members on staff. And he feels only sorta bad about wanting to refuse. He knows that if he says yes, it’ll mean something different to Benjy than it does him, that he’ll probably take it as Remus finally giving into his pestering and deciding to actually go out with him, even if he’s refuted the other four times he’s asked as much. Remus’s simply just too busy trying to get a footing in this city, and trying to figure out where he’s suppose to go from here, and what he’s suppose to do. And yes, Benjy is cute— a complete Seth Cohen archetype. And he’s sweet and smart and funny enough. But Remus is really not in the mood for doing the whole flowers and wine and candle lit dinners shtick, had gotten enough of that while still with his university boyfriend. And yeah, he’s only just turned 24, but he already feels too old and too jaded for that sort of puppy love— even if Benjy’s got a good decade and some change on him.
Probably sensing his hesitation, Benjy is quick to rectify the offer. “I’ll ask Mary, and Fabian too, and a few others. We can make a night of it, just some drinks on a Friday after work.”
Stalling by the last turn to Alice’s desk, Remus looks at him from over his shoulder, and sort of hates himself for being such a soft hearted fuck sometimes. “Yeah Benj, sounds nice. Just let me know on the group chat, yeah?”
Benjy grins, much more genuine than his awkward quirk of the lips from earlier. “Yeah, good call, I’ll let the others know pronto.”
“Aces,” Remus says, tosses him a obligatory thumbs-up before finding an expectant looking Alice who’s tapping her foot impatiently.
Yeah, today is so bloody shit.
.-
Surprisingly, the round of drinks turns to another and then a third and fourth and Remus is currently nursing his fifth mango margarita on Benjy’s tab, and he actually feels lighter than he has since taking the job at Phoenix, feels bright and bubbling and like absolutely nothing could be wrong as long as he’s got this drink in his grasp and he’s sitting with the handful of reporters and photographers from the office that don’t all have sticks up their asses. It’s fun, it’s good. So obviously it couldn’t have lasted.
Mary is currently cackling about her Uber driver from last night who asked her all sorts of well meaning, but incredibly dense questions about her hijab— a freshly poured glass of coke in one hand, while the other is tangled into her girlfriend Emmy’s. And From his left Remus can hear Fabian ribbing Frank on his crush on Alice, while Benjy scoots intermittently closer as they watch Kingsley and Marlene sparring over something to do with a Kardashian or TikTok trend or whatever the fuck else— The guy has resilience, Remus has to give Benjy that.
“Right, who’s buying next?” Marlene asks, abrasive as ever while scrolling through her phone, ostensively finding something to prove her point against the managing editor.
“Reckon it’s my turn,” Benjy crows, standing up smoothly and glancing down at Remus with a nervous sort of half grin.
“Just a water for me, ta. I need to sober up,” Remus tells him, feels proud that he didn’t even slur slightly. Benjy bobs his head understandingly, and Remus turns to ask Marlene about her latest tinder hookup which always is a good laugh, but then he catches on it. On the sound of the pub’s doors flinging open, followed by a raucous crowd of athletic looking guys probably only a bit older than he is, clambering indoors. 
They’re all so very sixth-form, broad grins and slapping each other’s shoulders with jeers, topped off with loud, bark like laughter that makes it obvious to Remus that these wankers think that they’re some sort of group of gods amongst men, roaming around like everyone should fall to their feet and offer everything they have. It makes Remus roll his eyes so far back that it feels like he might’ve sprained them. They just give off this exhausting aura that reminds him of a past boyfriend in tenth year who was on the footie team and who’s favorite activity was either making Remus feel lucky enough to go out with someone so popular, or dragging him around like some sort of bloody trophy.
To put it nicely, Remus sorta hates them on sight. So when he sees one of the tossers— regrettably the brightest of the lot who’s all pearly teeth, and glittering eyes and incredibly impressive shoulders that tape off to a narrow waste in an objectively infuriating matter— swivels up to the barkeep and jostles Benjy on his way, well Remus doesn’t hesitate to dart forwards to tell him off.
“Oi, watch where you’re going, yeah?”
Benjy and the bloke who looks like he might moonlight as a model for Calvin briefs for when he’s not lounging in a yacht off the Tuscany coast, both turn to him at the same time. Benjy looking abashed, and the aforementioned tosser preening like the cat who’s just caught a canary.
“Sorry, love. Didn’t see you there,” he says in a delightfully deep tenner, giving Remus an appreciative once over, and Remus absolutely despises how the action makes him feel both thrilled and irritated. “Trust and believe, I wouldn’t have looked away if I saw you.”
“Not me, arse.” Remus spits back, refuses to pay any credence to how his cheeks have begun to flush. “You bumped into my mate right there, the one with the tray of loggers.”
The tosser darts his almost molten gray eyes over to Benjy for a sparing second before he laser focusses back onto Remus, the most phony expression of contrition all over his face. “Sorry to your friend,” he says the descriptor like a joke that no one else is in on. “Let me buy you a drink in sorry for the one I made slim here spill.”
Remus is officially unimpressed, hopes that his flat tone gets it across. “You’re an arse.”
“You’re mouthy,” he retorts, looks like it’s something he greatly appreciates— delights over even. 
“Ah, ’s fine Remus, really. I’ll just bring these back and get us a new glass.”
“Listen to slim, Remus, he’s got the right idea.” The tosser hurriedly interjects, strutting close enough to him that he makes it so Remus has to tip his head back just slightly so not to drop his gaze. “I’m Black, Sirius Black, just to get the pleasantries out of the way.” His leer tells Remus that the name should probably evoke some response of aw into Remus, but all it does is make him sound so egregiously pretentious that Remus wants to smack his own bloody head against a dry wall and stay in the hole until this ruddy Sirius bloke leaves him the hell alone.
“Good for you,” he says instead of all of that, and spots Sirius’s friends from behind Sirius chuckling and elbowing one another. Evidently this is a line the tosser uses frequently, and Remus is pleased that he might be one of the first who aren’t at all impressed by the grandiose way he introduced himself.
“Hah, you know I’m use to the pretty ones playing hard to get, but I’m really feeling here that you’re not exactly liking my company, love.”
Remus sucks in a frustrated breath through his nose, shouldering past Sirius and taking the tray of drinks from Benjy before storming back to their table where the others have begun openly gawping at the scene— Marlene outright squawking with Fabian just as Remus takes his seat.
“Don’t,” Remus warns them all as he silently says fuck off to the water and instead gargles down one of the loggers. And if he has to steadfastly not turn around for the rest of the night towards where he can feel Sirius’s gaze burning into his back— well then so be it.
.-
The next morning, Remus has to puke twice into the toilet, and gulps down three aspirins just to stave off his bloody hangover from the night before where he decided that getting properly sloshed would prove as a good technique to not end up making out with Sirius in some dark corner— or regrettably the backseat of his car. And if he does still remember flashes of ranting to him about how insufferable preppy, rich boys actually are while Sirius gazed at him endeared— well Remus just decides to purge it out along with the stomach acid. It’s not like he’ll ever see the douche again.
.-
He meets Arthur— one of the accountants who also helps out by taking photos for more low key news stories— outside the hospital where the conference will be taking place with the Manchester United team. There was a scrimmage that they all played with some of the kids in the cancer ward that occurred at around eight in the ruddy morning, but thankfully Remus didn’t have to show up until an hour later when the team presented their big shiny check, to the big, shiny hospital. 
However, Arthur has been here for hours, so he’s beyond chirpy and looks like he’s downed three cups of espresso as he chatters on about his son Percy starting secondary school, and his eldest, Bill, getting an award for his reading prowess, and all the strange craving his wife has been having throughout her pregnancy with the twins they’re expecting any week now. And Remus loves Arthur, he does— one of the sweetest folks he’s ever met— but God, his head is still thrumming from those misguided tequila shots and he really just wants to get his three quotes, and write up the story so he can find refuge back in his sheets.
While Arthur has moved to talking about his wife, Molly’s, plans to open up a daycare in their refurnished garage, Remus scans his eyes over the familiar face of reporters from other outlets who look just as bored as him, and then to the stage where a woman in a sharply pressed suit is ushering for the group of football stars to join her, so that the conference can finally fucking begin. 
And Remus thinks that their faces are sorta familiar, probably from all the publicity they get on the telly— but then he freezes as he stops at one of them with dark brown skin, and thick rimmed spectacles— and he suddenly can hear him chatting about his redheaded girlfriend and drunkenly declaring that she’ll be the mother of his children some day soon. So he completely expects it when his stomach drops as he moves his glance just a bit to the right, being struck by pearly teeth, and glittering eyes and incredibly impressive shoulders that tape off to a narrow waste, made all the more infuriating by the tight kit he’s got on and the blazing number twelve splayed against his chest.
And fuck.
Remus runs through about a dozen scenarios in which he can make a discrete, or not so discrete exit before he notices him, but in tandem to his spiraling thoughts, the wanker actually looks forwards, and like a creepy metal detector, his quick silver gaze pinpoints onto Remus.
They stare at one another for a beat before his smirk goes wolfish, and he runs a hand through his artfully tousled hair in a way that practically screams, fancy meeting you here. And holy fuck he looks so mouth watteringly attractive with that faint film of sweat running down his neck, and how his smile pulls slightly more to the left, and how he’s looking at Remus like he’s his birthday and Christmas presents all rolled into one.
Remus suddenly hates everything— but most of all hates Sirius, and how bloody fit he is.
“Oh, you’re a fan then?” 
Starting, Remus shifts around slightly so that he’s facing Arthur completely. “Pardon?”
“Sirius Black I mean, you’re a fan?” Arthur asks in that abrasively congenial and intensely scrutinizing way that he treats everything. “I mean he’s a great player, but I know you don’t really watch. So I bet it’s all that charity work he does, yeah?”
“Charity work?” Remus echos, feeling like a floundering fish.
“Truly some amazing stuff.” Arthur pontificates, rubbing a hand against his jaw as he tips his head back. “I mean obviously I’m partial to the fundraising for Reporters Without Borders, but of course the things he does with the more impoverished kids is great. And I know Molly likes his very outspoken posts about being anti war and his annual live streams to earn money for refugees in those war torn nations, like the last one he did for Syria?”
“Oh—“ Remus says, feeling like his head is being overrun by a fountain of new information.
“Yes well, you don’t usually see athletes get into the thick of it with political issues, but I reckon he never really minded. I mean the fact he’s the first football star from United to have come out without any fanfare really proved that. Oh, I think they’re starting, I should probably get some photos before Dorcas gives me a tongue lashing.”
And as quick as the flash of his camera’s lends, Arthur is using his considerable height to get to a more advantageous spot towards the front, and leaves Remus in the dust, as if he hasn’t just obliterated his every assumption of Sirius from after that initial meeting.
And unbidden, the words his mother had told him so many years ago, about facts and how they can color a situation just simply based off the person who’s speaking them— flood to the forefront of his mind.
“Fucking hell,” Remus mutters lowly, gets jostled by Greengrass, a hawkish reporter from a rivaling publication who always has on the most wickedly sharp acrylic nails, and perfectly quaffed curls— as she waves around her certification to speak her inquiry.
“My question is for Potter,” she announces when the woman leading the event, McGonagall, points her way. “And I was wondering how early you boys have to rise for training during the season? And how intense the sessions are that Coach Hooch puts you guys through?”
Potter, the one with the redheaded girlfriend that Remus heard so much about last night between his ranting at Sirius, parts his lips, but it’s not his voice that ends up reverberating through the outdoors space. Instead, it’s Sirius, who’s shouldering him with a goading air, obviously expecting his comment to have only ended up in Potter’s ear and not caught by the mike.
“I wonder if Lupin will let me wake up with’m so he can let me get some real training done before practices, eh?”
And just as soon as his words pitter off, the entire crowd drops to a hush— quiet enough so that they could probably hear it if a pen dropped. 
Sirius’s handsome face— strong jawline, and broad but sharp cheekbones, and a long, narrow nose— goes suddenly ashen, and he flashes over to Remus as if he’s terrified that he’ll bite his face off.
God, what an idiot.
With a long suffering sigh, Remus plucks out the microphone from a slack faced Greengrass’s hand. “We can discuss the regimen afterwards, Black. Just meet me by the front doors and let your mate answer the bloody question.”
Everyone around them falls into laughter that’s caught between uncomfortable chuckles and amazingly amused cackling, but the only person Remus is paying any mind is Sirius, and how he seems to have gone absolutely incandescent, nodding electrically before miming the zip of his lips and gesturing for Potter to carry on.
Jesus help him, Remus has no idea what he’s gotten himself into.
.-
~My Wolfstar FIC Masterlist
~Buy Me A Coffee 
203 notes · View notes
linkspooky · 3 years
Note
Who in you’re opinion are the 5 best written characters in jjk?
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1. Suguru Geto
Geto is the type of character I refer to as an "empathy monster", his genuine feelings of empathy for other people just make him all the more monstrous. Empathy isn't a positive or negative trait, it's just one personality trait that makes a person. It's just the ability to inuit other people's emotions naturally. It's not some magical trait that makes you a good guy. Suguru starts out his story as someone who strives to be good, but in a "self righteous" way. He's trying to assure himself that he's a good person, that his beliefs are the right ones.
Geto and Gojo work so well as character foils, because they are essentially the same person. They're both "the strongest" and that makes them see themselves as apart from normal people. Geto at first believes it's his duty to help weak people, but that still comes from a place of looking down on them.
Then Geto is put through something no normal teenager should have gone through, he gets close to a girl, only to watch her die right in front of him when he promised to be the one to save her and fall away from his best friend shortly after, because when Satoru became the strongest it seemed like he didn't need him anymore.
Geto sees himself above normal people, but it's actually him genuinely connecting to someone he and Gojo would have dismissed as a normal person before in Riko Amanai, and seeing her desire to live in this world the same as everyone else, only for it to be taken away that breaks Geto. Geto feels this empathy deeper and stronger than everything else, and because he cares the loss absolutely devestates him and the only way for him to go forward is to just cut off that empathy. He starts seeing everyone, except for the sorcers closest to him as being human. He disqualifies them.
Geto works so well as a character, because it's his good qualities that drive him to tragedy not his faults. He shows how uncaring the world of sorcerers is, if trying to be a genuinely caring person can be a fault that drives you off the edge.
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2. Satoru Gojo.
Gojo's writing is well done because it's balanced, the entire character is built around the idea of being "the strongest" but instead of it being a power fantasy, Gojou's character revolves more around how much it sucks to be him.
Gojo can win any fight alone, but it doesn't get him what he wants. He can't use his strength to solve every problem. There are several things he can't do, he can't teach that well, understand or relate to other people, play politics with others.
What Gojo wants is a better world, and comrades that can stay by his side without getting left behind, but he can't have those things. Gojo actually has an insecurity around being the strongest, because he thinks it's all that defines him. He sees his strength as insufficient ultimately because there is so much he failed to do. He has strength, but he couldn't save Geto. Gojo is the strongest man in the whole world and still he fails, he makes mistakes like any other human. Just like his character profile says, Gojo can do almost anything, but there's nothing he particularly wants to do and when he does find something it slips out of his fingers.
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3. Okkotsu Yuta.
Jujutsu Kaisen writes main characters well, and it does this by not allowing them to be "the main characters' of their stories. In most stories the world revolves around the viewpoint of the protagonists. However, in the case of both Yuji and Yuta every time they try to view themselves as the heroes, or act self-centered in their viewpoints, they get slapped in the face and reminded that they're not the only ones fighting here.
Yuta is a well thought out version of the "nakama" trope, in that Yuta's entire problem is how codependent he is. He can't function without people around him. He was so afraid of losing Rika when he was young, that he cursed her and bound her to him for years after her death which inevitably made her suffer.
Yuta's passivity is also a serious flaw. Maki calls him out for "playing the victim" as an excuse to avoid responsibility. If he lets others push him around, then he doesn't ever have to make decisions for his actions because he's "not at fault." Yuta's arc in Zero is forcing him to grow up and take responsibility, otherwise he'll keep hurting the people around him like he did Rika, and I hope we can see the conintuation of that arc.
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4.  Kokichi Muta.
Kokichi is a perfectly executed tragic character. His circumstances aren't his own fault, but he still makes bad choices in those circumstances.
Kokichi's desire is to be together with everyone else. However, Kokichi is so afraid of his friends hating him, because of how worthless he believes his own body to be that he can't let them close. Kokichi has internalized the idea that he's weak, so he takes all the burdens on his own shoulders in an attempt to prove he's strong.
That, is what leads him to try to challenge Mahito all on his own. He wants to be closer to the others, but he can't bring himself to rely on them. It leads to one of the saddest scenes in the manga, and expresses the tragedy that's repeated again and again in the jujutsu world, that these are all just kids that want to be friends, and have the normal lives everyone else have. I want to be together with everyone. That's what Riko said. That's what Kokichi said. That's what Yuji tried to promise to Junpei. We want the characters we like to be happy, but to the ones with unhappy endings their story still matters.
Kokichi couldn't leave his room in the end, but even so there was still someone who loved him in Miwa, there's still someone who will remember him - and there's a power in someone who tried their hardest to live and love even if they failed in the end.
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5. Mahito.
Anyway, now I'm going to praise the asshole that killed my other favorite.
Mahito is a frankenstein's monster like Dabi, he's just a little uglier. Mahito serves as an embodiment, a walking, breathing, id of human selfishness and desire. What's so interesting about his character are all his nasty traits are perfectly human ones. Human pettiness. Human jealousy. Human fickleness. The things that Mahito does are all things other humans do with each other. A confrontation with him is like an acknowledgement of just how terrible people can be to each other.
However, there's more to him than that Mahito is basically an infant, he is frankenstein's monster, a creation of humanity but distinctly not human and unaware of what he truly is. What I'm invested in is the potential of a character like Mahito. His starting point si the absolute worst of humanity, but humans are ore than just their bad traits. Just looking at the bad parts of people you're not looking at the whole truth. I'm interested in what kind of character that Mahito can grow into as he gains a wider view of the world around him, because he is a curious learning thing.
I actually hope we see him come back in canon after being eaten by Getwo, because there's a lot more that could be done with a character with so much potential as him.
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jaskiersvalley · 3 years
Note
Omfg, I've read through just about all of your stories and they are incredible! You write with such a passion and every story just feels like it should be cannon between the characters! Especially Silver Tongue, Silver Hand and the Yennefer/Geralt/Jaskier add on, it just hit ALL the feels for me. Thank you for sharing 😁😍
Your words never cease to flatter me <3 Writing has become my life so I'm glad you enjoy it so much. I've got a little more in the way of feels for you but it's more Eskel flavoured.
The whole Lil Bleater thing had started out as a joke well before Lambert's time. He'd heard about it from the others. It became a bit of a tradition to keep an eye on the path at the start of each winter to see the burly Witcher with a goat on a tether. It was always a white goat with brown markings and everyone treated it like it's the same goat that has spent over a decade by Eskel's side. To Lambert there was a certain amount of comfort in seeing Eskel and his goat coming up the path. For all the uncertainty of their lives, that sight was a constant. So even when he became a Witcher, Lambert was one of the first to get back, just to see Eskel and his goat return.
There was no time to watch for Eskel the year of the sacking. Lambert had returned to a smouldering ruin and a few bewildered Witchers who were trying to make sense of what had happened. All hands on deck to try and salvage what remained of Kaer Morhen and to honour the remains of the dead they found, Lambert couldn't linger by the parapets to watch. Too much work and not enough people made it impossible. He was almost glad he wasn't there when Eskel ambled in, that he didn't have to see the way his face fell and took in the devastation around them. But that dinner Lambert sat next to him, shoulders pressed together.
It took a couple of years to get Kaer Morhen back into the shape of something habitable. Most of the keep was out of bounds but the courtyard, the great hall, the kitchens and a few rooms were salvageable. Not that there were many of them left who wanted rooms. Each year fewer and fewer Wolves came back until it was just Vesemir, Geralt, Eskel and Lambert. Plus Lil Bleater. She was there every single year, frolicking around and causing mayhem. Lambert had no idea how Eskel did it, always finding a goat that was as much of a menace as it was a delight.
"What's your trick?" he had asked one evening while they were giving the stables a thorough clean. Lil Bleater as getting her nose into everything, from trying to drink from the filthy bucket to stealing Lambert's brush.
"I ask her nicely." Which was timed perfectly with Lil Bleater backing up to charge at the straw bale that Eskel had been trying to spread out in a stall. It drew a tired "Bleats, please!" from Eskel which went merrily ignored. Lambert didn't even bother trying to hide his snicker.
It was always nice when it was the same goat two years running. There had been one time Eskel had the same goat for three winters and that one had been the goat to end up on its back, carried around like a baby. Vesemir grumbled when Lambert had given the goat a bonnet but otherwise left them to their own devices.
The year Eskel got home with barely healing wounds down his face had been hard. That time Lil Bleater was a quiet goat, much more likely to demand cuddles than get up to mischief and Lambert had never been more grateful. He hadn't been able to get through to Eskel, nobody had. But the stupid goat did what none of them could and offered companionship. Never before had Lambert felt he was indebted to a goat.
Not every year was sunshine and roses. The year Lil Bleater got into the alchemy ingredients was a dark one. But she was a Witcher's goat so got a suitable send-off on a pyre. By the time Eskel returned with her successor the following year, the door had a new lock on it, high up and it definitely needed opposable thumbs to open it.
Worst though was when Eskel was running late. He should have been there a week ago by Lambert's calculations. He kept an eye on the path to Kaer Morhen and watched as a lone figure approached. No horse, no goat, no pack, nothing. And emaciated Eskel stumbled home.
"No Bleats?" Lambert asked rather than interrogate Eskel on just what happened. He wished he hadn't enquired though, not when Eskel's face twisted into something pained and a hand rubbed over his stomach.
"I was desperate."
Understanding didn't make it any easier and Lambert simply nodded. He what he could of his to Eskel, spare shirts, potion bottles, boots, anything a Witcher might need on his travels. Winter just wasn't the same though. It wasn't just the fact that Eskel was withdrawn and silent, eerily still when hugged. Something was missing, that spark of life that Kaer Morhen cradled each winter was gone.
There was nothing for it, Lambert knew what he had to do. As soon as the weather permitted he was out the door and headed into the wilderness. Within the hour he spotted what he'd been looking for, a herd of wild goats. As soon as they spotted him they were scattering and catching one was nigh on impossible. The couple of white ones with brown spots bounded off into the undergrowth and only a pure black one watched him with disdain from a distance. It was going to have to do, Lambert didn't have the time or the patience to hunt down and capture another one. When he hunted, he never did it with the intent of zero injury for his prey. Slowly, he approached the goat and cast axii as soon as it was within range.
"Stay," he ordered and the goat stayed. Getting a leash on it was quick work and Lambert remembered what Eskel had said to him all those years ago. On a whim he added, "Be nice for Eskel."
The goat trotted along, occasionally nibbling at the leash if Lambert wasn't walking at a decent speed. They managed to get back to Kaer Morhen and marched into the kitchen.
"What have you got there?" Vesemir asked, staring at the black goat whose tail wiggled at the attention. At the table Eskel stared at them with a blank expression.
Marching over, Lambert thrust the end of the leash at Eskel.
"Lil Bleater."
For the first time that winter, Eskel's lips flickered into the ghost of a smile. He took the leash and held out a hand at the black goat.
"Hello there. I've missed you."
Stepping back, Lambert watched and barely flinched when a hand squeezed his shoulder.
"You did good," Vesemir murmured. "Thank you."
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scapegrace74-blog · 3 years
Text
New Ways of Turning Into Stone
A/N  Another long drive, another Outlander fanfic idea that dropped into my brain out of nowhere, shoving aside the historical AU I have been wrestling with for months.  Here’s the pitch: Claire Beauchamp is a psychiatrist specializing in grief counselling.  Jamie Fraser is referred to her by his sister, who is worried for his well-being after a series of family tragedies.  You can probably guess the rest, but I’m going to write it anyway.   The title is taken from a song by the amazing Phantogram that was playing as the story idea came to me.
After losing my WIP virginity posting Ginger Snap, I’m going out on that limb again and posting this first chapter with only a rough outline mapped out in my head.  You people are a terrible influence!  Also, there will be some trigger warnings on future chapters, so please watch out for those.   And now, on with our show.
Claire Beauchamp glanced down at the leather-bound calendar open on her desk.  The ivory page for Thursday was packed to the margins, each hourly block filled with the name of a patient followed by a series of cuneiform symbols she used to remind herself of the last session, course of treatment, overall progress, all while maintaining strict confidentiality.  Not even Geillis Duncan, her office administrator and very good friend, knew how to decode the script.
Geillis liked to laugh at the old-fashioned day planner, reminding Claire that their practice utilized software that could perform the same function electronically, but she enjoyed the act of physically logging each session.  The solid heft of her Mont Blanc pen in her hand, a medical school graduation gift from her Uncle Lamb.  The scratch and grab of the nub as it bled black ink over virgin paper.  It was a tactile ceremony in a detached world.  Geillis would nod and then tell her she needed to get laid.
Speak of the devil, a sharp rap on her office door was followed by the appearance of her strawberry blonde head. blue eyes alight with mischief.
“Yer two o’clock is here.  Did ye need more time tae finish bolting down tha’ chaff ye call a salad, or can I show him in?”
“It’s kale,” she defended.  “It’s full of anti-oxidants.”
A disdainful scoff was the only response.
“Yes, Geil, please show Mister...” she glanced down at her planner, “...Fraser in, thank you.”
The tiny rectangle contained only a name, which meant this was their first appointment.  Geillis vetted all prospective patients, but Claire preferred to go into the first meeting blind, with no assumptions or pre-conceptions.  
She wondered what misfortune had caused Mr. Fraser to seek out her psychiatric services.  The death of a child, perhaps, or the end of an extra-marital affair.  People grieved for very different reasons and worked through or around that grief with a surprising variety of coping mechanisms.   Most called upon her practice in much the same way they would a breakdown truck when their car’s engine failed.  They simply wanted to get back on the road to happiness.
Despite the degrees and accreditations that decorated her office wall, Claire wasn’t certain such a thing was possible.  In her experience, grief was a phantom limb that never really went away.  The best one could hope for was to learn healthier ways of living with it.  
The sound of Geillis clearing her throat snapped her back to the present.
“Was there something else, Geil?”
“Och, no’ really.  Just, when yer considerin’ how tae thank me later on, remember tha’ my favourite stone is an emerald, that I prefer gold tae silver, but platinum is ne’er amiss.”
“What are you on about, Duncan?”  But her friend had already disappeared back into the reception area, leaving behind only the glow of her Cheshire smile.  Claire was shaking her head, bemused, when another knock rang out, this one considerably heavier than the first.
“Come in,” she called as she looked up.  And up.  And up some more.
The man who now practically filled her office door had to be at least six foot four, with powerful shoulders and a broad torso encased in a blue henley.  His nearly endless legs were likewise muscular, as testified by the stretch of his jeans across each thigh.  As if his physique wasn’t remarkable enough, he had a head of outrageously wavy red hair, worn long enough to graze the tops of his ears and the nape of his neck, but swept back from a high brow by a judicious use of product.  His face was angular in a pleasingly unique way, with a day or two’s growth of beard counter-balancing an almost youthful, earnest appearance.  But his most striking feature by far were his aquamarine eyes that shimmered like a tropical sea.  Eyes that were currently observing her with perplexity.
“Dr. Beauchamp?” a deep Scottish brogue inquired.  He pronounced it as though she were French.
“Yes,” she startled.  “That’s me.  And it’s pronounced Beecham.  Please, come in Mister Fraser.”  She shuffled a few items around her desk needlessly as she tried to compose herself.  Damn Geillis for not giving her a bit more warning that her newest client was some sort of fitness model.
“Thank ye,” he replied.  “An’ it’s pronounced Jamie, if ye please.”   She added wit to the growing list of the man’s attributes.
If anything, he grew even more impressive as he approached.  She could see he was nervous, although hiding it well.  His striking eyes darted about the room, trying to get a sense of his environment.  She indicated the well-upholstered armchair that sat to one side of her desk.
“Have a seat,” she invited.
With a surprising amount of grace for one so tall, he eased into the chair but didn’t lean back.  The fingers of his left hand tapped restlessly against his thigh.  She watched him quietly, waiting for him to speak.  This was a trick she had learned when she first started practicing psychiatry, but in this case it also allowed her to continue her appraisal.  He was, she concluded, the most attractive man she’d ever seen in the flesh.
“No couch,” he finally observed.
“No.  That’s a bit of a Hollywood trope, I’m afraid.  Lying prone in front of a stranger is hardly conducive to feeling at ease.”
He nodded his acceptance of her logic, but was otherwise silent.
“So,” she spoke at last, unable to wait him out, “what caused you to seek out counselling, Jamie?”  His name suited him, she thought as she spoke it for the first time.  Both boyish and imposing at once.
“I didna.  Twas my sister, Jenny, who insisted I see a doctor.”  His mobile mouth twisted into a grimace.  She could imagine the sibling discord that such a demand would have caused.  Whoever this Jenny was, she was made of strong stuff.  Unfortunately for her, a hostile patient would receive no benefit from merely visiting her office.  Counselling was a participatory process, and she could tell from the stubborn set of Jamie’s shoulders that he had no intention of participating.
“I see,” she said carefully.  “Well, it’s your time and your dime, Mr. Fraser.  This session lasts for forty-five minutes, and you’ve not been here for five.  There’s a carafe of hot water on the table over there, if you care for some tea.  Or you’re welcome to just enjoy that comfortable chair for another forty minutes.  I’ll be working on some administrative necessities.”
She turned her chair away from him, but from the corner of her eye she could see his gobsmacked expression.  He had clearly expected her to cajole and manipulate him into co-operating, but that simply wasn’t her style.
“I meant no offence, doctor.  I’m certain ye’re verra good at what ye do.  Tis only... well, Jenny is my older sister, ye ken.  She practically raised me.  And so ofttimes she treats me like a muckle-sized bairn, and no’ a man who’s capable of lookin’ after himself.”
As he spoke, Jamie leaned forward until his elbows rested on his knees, expressive hands gesturing in front of his face.  Hostile to the notion of counselling he might be, but he clearly wanted her to understand it wasn’t a slight.  As a physician, she had been trained to never take a patient’s reactions personally, but it didn’t mean she didn’t appreciate the effort.
“No offence taken, Jamie.  If you don’t need my assistance, I’m happy for you.  That’s one less person hurting in the world.”
“I didna say I wasna hurting.  But I can handle it my own way.  I am handling it, that is,” he hurried to add.
Unable to sit still any longer, he rose and walked over to the small table where she kept an assortment of herbal teas and a tray of Geillis’ homemade biscuits.  Bending over, Jamie set about making himself some; chamomile by the smell of it.  The sound of spoon ringing off porcelain as he stirred in some honey made her smile, reminding her of Lamb and his obsession with the lost art of afternoon tea.
“Can I make ye a cup?”
The question was so unexpected, it took her a moment to process it.  The tea was there as a distraction for her patients, to give them something to do with their bodies as they worked through difficult emotions.  None of them had ever thought to offer her a reprieve as well.
“No, thank you.  I just finished lunch.”
He dipped a shortbread into the steaming tea, then ate it in a single bite.  Instead of sitting back down, he began to browse the framed certificates and photographs along the far wall as he sipped his tea.  With his back turned, her eyes dipped to admire his ass, which filled out his jeans perfectly.  When she caught herself, she gave her head a shake, appalled at her lack of professional detachment.  Maybe Geillis was right.  Maybe she really did need to get laid.
“How long have ye been a doctor?” Jamie asked without turning around.
“Ten years,” she replied.  “But I’ve only been a psychiatrist for the last two.”
It was a dangerous topic, and she blamed his ass for letting the words slip out.  Fortunately, his inquisitiveness took him in an entirely different direction.
“Were ye some kind of prodigy, then? Ye hardly seem old enough tae have yer own practice, let alone fer a decade.  If ye dinna mind me sayin’ so,” he added quickly, as though realizing what he’d just said.
“Not at all.  And you hardly seem young enough to be a, what was it? A muckle-sized bairn?”
As he turned to look her way, she understood the expression ‘shot-gun smile’ for the first time.  It spread across his face like a sunbeam, transforming what was already remarkable into a work of art.  If she hadn’t been sitting, she likely would have stumbled backward from the force of the blow.  Scrambling for something familiar to keep her from making a very grave fool of herself in front of this man, she clasped her clinical training with both hands.
“Are you and your sister close?” 
“Aye, when we’re no’ tryin’ not tae kill the other.  Our Mam died when I was only four, and with Da workin’ dawn til dark on the farm, Jenny was parent, teacher an’ playmate all rolled inta one.”
“You’re not from Edinburgh, then?”  Although what that had to do with his counselling, she hadn’t a clue. 
“Nah, I hail from a wee village in the Highlands ye’ve likely ne’er heard of called Broch Mordha.”  She shook her head to indicate she was indeed unfamiliar with it.  Jamie launched into a detailed description of the place, his hands sculpting the landscape out of thin air.  He obviously cared very deeply for his home, and she felt a twinge of jealousy, having never known that feeling of deep belonging  herself.
“And what brought you to Old Smoky?” she asked as he wound down, her interest piqued.  It was like slamming a lead door on his previously sunny disposition.
“Family obligations.” Said in such a way as to make it clear that no further words would be forthcoming on the topic.  She regretted her nosiness immediately, despite what it revealed about his emotional state.  Jamie was most certainly grieving something, but handling it he was not.
Before she could find a way back to the easy flow of conversation, a chime from her laptop indicated that the session was up.  She couldn’t bear to dismiss him without trying to set things right.
“Listen, Jamie, I understand that you only came here today to humour your sister, but I want you to consider something.  Whether we’re grieving or angry or jealous, or any destabilizing feeling, we’re often the worst surveyors of our own landscape.  Just like you can’t know your place on the sea without referencing the stars, it takes something external to ourselves to measure how far adrift we have become.  Your sister obviously loves you.  Ask yourself, what has she seen in you that prompted her to force you to seek help?”
They parted with cordial but muted goodbyes.  The door closed behind him, leaving Claire to stare at the blank rectangle in her planner that bore his name.  No coded symbols flowed from her pen.  When the door re-opened, it was Geillis, closing it firmly behind her.
“Weel, did I no’ tell ye?  Wee fox, tha’ one.  And he told me he liked my shortbread!”   Geillis said this as though it was some kind of sexual euphemism, which for all Claire knew, it was.
“Yes,” she replied distractedly.  “He’s very nice.”
“Nice!  Nice?  Tha’ man is tae nice what Wagyu is tae beef jerky.  Have ye completely lost yer senses, woman?”  
“Yes, well, he’s a patient, Geillis, as you well know.  And not one I’m likely to see again,” she added, acknowledging out loud what she already knew.
“Oh, no?” Geillis sing-songed.  “Thas’ strange, as he just made an appointment fer the same time next week.”
Claire’s eyes flew to where her friend looked on, smug as could be.
“Yer three o’clock called tae say she was runnin’ five minutes late.  I’ll leave ye tae think about yer... patient.”
Claire picked up her pen, trying to pull together something resembling a professional summary of her first appointment with Jamie.  Her mind replayed their interaction, but all she could remember was the way his eyes crinkled when he was listening attentively, the tidy half-moons of his fingernails, the seam of his jeans as it contoured his thigh, and the cymbal-crash in her chest that accompanied his smile.
Patient, she reminded herself.  Jamie Fraser is your patient. 
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brellhal96 · 3 years
Text
It’s... pretty complicated
Summary: College dramas in the life of a third-year student who decides to start, not a relationship, but something with a renowned professor.
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Okay the GIF is not very related to the subject, but this man dressed in black has me at his feet.
Notes: This is quite cliché actually, but what does it matter, it is worth dreaming. It is planned to be written in several chapters, so the first is mostly to give context to the story, I hope you like it.
I base myself on Loki's physique, although I will mention Tom Hiddleston as the star of the scene, but my perfect image is in the essence of Loki in a black suit.
I study a completely different area to numbers and physics, don't be rigorous with me on the subject, only I think it an excellent area to show Loki's personality, I do not know why.
I will show at the beginning of the series a somewhat possessive relationship, but with the outcome I promise to shape this. It should be noted that not in a toxic sense.
I didn't mention a specific university, country, or geographic location.ical location.
It's the first time I've written anything obscene, I hope you like it.
Precautions: 18+, mention of fear or anxiety, unprotected sex, a relationship at the beginning somewhat possessive.
CHAPTER 1
I NEVER SAID I WASN'T INTERESTED.
Notes: Okay this chapter is kind of weird honestly, I didn't really put so much emphasis on the obscene, but I feel like it ended up fine, I hope you like it.
Word count: 6389
You had gotten used to the hot weather of the beginning of the year, in fact you had always preferred that climate. You spent the summer with your parents on a beach, sometimes you missed them too much, but your father's job and the university of your dreams were right at the opposite ends of the country. The first year was quite complicated, but then you got used to living alone, you actually lived two blocks from campus so your bike was the perfect means of transportation.
You made some friends here, Jared had become your best friend, his bond of trust scared you a bit as you could tell him anything without fear, but it was quite comforting to have someone like that by your side.
You had earned a scholarship for academic excellence, your studies were your priority since you were a child and you loved that. The only unpleasant thing about this scholarship is that it restricted your choice of teachers in half of your subjects since you were supposed to be with “teachers of excellence”.
When you compared your subject strip to Jared and Diane, they only shared one class the three of them together, Diane another, and Jared two more. In the end you weren't going to be alone in all the classes so that calmed you a little, studying physics wasn't so complicated, it was easy for you, but socializing wasn't much for you.
You went to building C, your first class was analytical mechanics and later thermodynamics, the teacher in the second was assigned to you by the institute, a Doctor Hiddleston, you've never heard of him, you just hoped it wasn't a headache. Your mechanics teacher was a love and with the first class you knew it was going to be one of your favorite subjects.
When you finished you went to your other class, you sat right in the middle in the third row, several were in groups apparently with their friends from previous years. You took your computer and got ready to take notes. Suddenly the door closed tightly and everyone sat a little scared.
A very good-looking man came in, tall, thin and dressed completely in black, I honestly he caused you curiosity why for some reason you felt that you had seen him before.
Without seeing the class began to write on the board quickly "I am Professor Tom Hiddleston and I will teach the subject of Thermodynamics" His voice was strong and deep and you immediately recognized it. You frowned when you remembered last year's science fair, you won first place in the area of electromagnetism prototypes against a fourth-year kid, which made you feel completely proud, yet two of the judges had not been what we call nice to the two.
When you remembered Professor Hiddleston's deep look at you that day, the judges asked random questions to the fourth-year kid and you, but apparently your future thermodynamics teacher was one of those who enjoyed making students nervous with difficult questions. His sidekick on that occasion was your freshman professor, analytic geometry, Professor Scott Lawford a fucking genius, you had cried with his subject, but passed with an A +.
They both enjoyed seeing the nerves invading you and your opponent, whispering to each other with their answers. At one point Professor Hiddleston asked you and you remember perfectly well that when you finished speaking he only looked at you and smiled mockingly for then wrote something on his ballot. In the end you won by three points of the total vote and the fourth year boy, currently fifth, became your friend, both came to the same conclusion, the two teachers were crazy.
He began to write down on the board the evaluation and the issues that are always mentioned at the beginning of the year. For a moment you panicked when he wrote that one of the exams was oral, you could not imagine the martyrdom he would create just to get a passing grade.
He took 20 minutes to explain and let us out to start the next class with the course. When you came out unintentionally you stared at him while he was erasing the blackboard, but apparently your look was uncomfortable enough for him that for a second he turn and he stared at you, you rushed out of the classroom after that. When you told Jared about this future journey that you had to go through you felt immense despair, but then you remembered that, if you could the previous years with teachers equal or worse to him, this was only one step more.
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The first three weeks of class were pretty normal, you made two more friends and breakfast in the cafeteria with Jared and Diane made you forget about the pressures of school, but just the moment you felt like you were fitting in perfectly with your new year, the thermodynamics class became strange.
The classes with Tom were very pleasant, he was kinder than his body language showed, only he was certainly of a very volatile character, there were days when he seemed angry and others when he seemed happy, it was weird, but it was even weirder that you were attracted to him.
Your previous class had lasted longer than expected and the teacher extended 5 minutes out of her time which translates into being late for thermodynamics. You panicked when you saw the locked door of the classroom, wondered if it was better not to enter the class and pretend a headache straight to the infirmary, but in the end you breathed for a second and you'd decided get ready to knock the door.
“Can I help you with something?"You had never noticed that he was quite tall, it was the first time you were quite close to him.
"Sorry my mechanics teacher accidentally spread...”
"You were able to leave her class to get to mine on time, don't you think?"His gaze was quite penetrating up close.
“I really sorry, won't happen again,” Your hands were shaking, but in reality, not for fear, but his presence so formal, so rigid and secure made you feel strangely attracted to him, when you thought that, you actually invaded the shame, how do you fall in love of a teacher as strange as him.
He just opened the door and walked aside to let you through. "I asked them to work in pairs, look for your partner and ask him to explain what I already explain”
On the board were written several formulas, you wondered how he managed in 7 minutes to score so much.
You asked several guys over there, but apparently the whole damn world already had a partner, in the end you decided to do it alone, you just hoped he wouldn't flunk you for it. A girl explained the instructions to you, apparently you had to pick up one of the sheets that the professor had placed on the desk and solve it with the formulas on the blackboard, you even had to sit up to the top rows because all the other seats were occupied.
You started cursing internally while taking one of the paper sheets from the desk. "Who are you going to work with?"The professor asked you without seeing you while making notes with a rather nice pen of Indian ink.
"I'll do it alone, I already asked ... ”
"Don't you understand what couples are?"He interrupted you and this time he gave you a rather intimidating gaze.
"Yes, but apparently all my companions already have one and I figured I could do it alone then" Your hands trembled again with the paper sheet between them.
"Who doesn't have a partner?"he looked back at his papers and yelled at the whole group. It was pretty funny for you because he himself proved you were right, no one was missing a partner. When he looked up and saw that no one answered he saw you again and then looked at the blackboard behind his back.
"Well, I'll do it with you then" He got up and brought a chair that was at the end of the living room for you right next to his desk.
For a moment you wanted to run out of there, you knew you shouldn't make a mistake or say something stupid because otherwise you'd die trying.
"Get your stuff and start working it out, just let me finish a few things. To be fair with your colleagues and with you I will let you do it alone and answer any doubts you have, because obviously I know how this is solved, but I also consider that it is a lot of work for one person, do you agree?" His gaze became a little kinder.
"Yes, thank you,” you smiled faintly, but felt an internal shock as he winked at you and continued to write with his fine pen. You sat right in the corner of his desk, they were just three problems but they really left you with little desire to live. The first one, you felt was quite easy to solve, even at one point you felt the professor's gaze on you when you were so focused on your operations.
"Don't you have any doubts?"His eyebrows were puckered and his gaze was no longer mocking but rather with bona fide interests.
"No, not really, well I go in the second exercise, possibly I do" You smiled as you watched your operations with inner pride.
"Can I see?"He extended his hand to give him the leaves you had carried until then. You gave them to him, just hoping he'd tell you you had everything terribly wrong.
As he watched your leaves you watched him, he was quite attractive now that you saw him without fear that he would not let you into class, his hair was dark and apparently a lover of black to wear, his eyes were cute and quite tender while they examined your answers.
"Go on, I don't want to confuse you” He put the paper sheets on the desk and saw you with a small smile on your lips as a sign that you were on the right track.
Just 10 minutes before the class ended you finished all three exercises, you had only asked him one question and it was about whether it was a 4 or a 9 in a formula that wrote the board, so you felt pretty happy that you did it alone.
"Ready" You smiled broadly, you were the first to finish and the only one who had done it alone.
"Are you sure?”
"Yeah, well, I hope it's not a 0 at the end of the day,” you laughed to yourself, and in the end you wondered if you had thought about it or said it.
”Then let's see " took his pen and began to review your work. You froze when you saw that he framed something in your results, but he didn't tell you anything. "Well, I really didn't expect less from the winner of last year's science fair, maybe punctuality, but what does it matter”
You smiled when you saw that your grade was an A, only that he kept the papers, apparently he had to register them on his lists or something. Just as you were about to get up to leave, he asked you to stay at the end of class.
You sat back in the seats vacated by the peers that have already gone, but for a second, remembered what you said I didn't expected less from the winner of the science fair last year, he remembered you, you know that he remembered you, sonreíste for yourself when thinking that.
When the whole room was half empty, he started putting away his things. ”Come with me, " he said as he walked out with a firm and fast pace, so much so that you had to walk faster than normal. You wondered where they were going, it was pretty strange since you'd never been through the labs where it went.
“I've noticed that you're pretty good in the area, actually amazing, I even remember your answers about your prototype against the fourth year kid, former student of mine, you were much better than his” he opened the door of one of the labs and with his arm gave you a signal to enter.
“Thank you, I actually always dreamed of doing this, " you said as you walked into the lab, quite big, you assumed they were the ones that grad boys used.
"I want to propose you something” You sat at one of the practice tables and he leaned with both hands on his desk. "Would you like to work with me on a project I have?, is related to thermodynamics”
For a second you saw him with an expression of if he was joking with you or if he was serious and he seemed to read your mind.
"It's seriously, I'm working on a model related to the second law" he approached you sitting in the chair in front of yours.
"I would love to then, but I do not know how I could be of help”
"In many things" he smiled
For a moment you wondered why suddenly the man who seemed bitter about life was being so kind to you.
“You do not have to tell me your answer now, I will send you the files I have of my progress by mail if you like and you could think about it”
"Sure, I will" You smiled and he too, for a moment everything was silent, somewhat uncomfortable to be honest but his look no longer caused you fear, but somehow attracted you to him.
It was quite strange because they both got up at the same time so you were right next to him and his height difference was no small one.
"Well I think I have to go, I'll see you the next class”
"Wait, I wanted to give you something that I kept here," he went to the back cellar of the lab and came back with a bun that said first place. "I'm sorry, I was supposed to give it to you that day you won, but I honestly didn't remember where I left it, so this belongs to you.”
When you saw the bun with your name on it, you were very happy. "I thought they didn't give anything," you laughed as you put it in your backpack.
"Yeah, excuse me, I tend to be a little clueless about those things.”
"No problem," you smiled and shyly walked out of the room.
The weekend you started to question why Professor Hiddleston made you feel so nervous, now you knew that you were one of his star students, to the degree that you could be his future colleague, but why couldn't you even hold his gaze? you know, for a moment you thought about flatly refusing his project if you couldn't even see it in the eyes, but after you thought about it, you figured it would possibly be a good idea, you could even learn more things by being his apprentice.
It was Monday's class, you didn't know why, but you were in the lab on Friday, apparently you were doing an experiment on the tables with some microscopes on. ”You did it " There was Professor Hiddleston next to you, his command was on your waist and suddenly he began to approach you to kiss you on the lips and it was even stranger because it was quite nice for you, to reciprocate.
Right then you woke up, you're fucking in love with your thermodynamics professor, "Excellent Y / N, that's all that was missing."
Monday's class didn't even look him in the eye and you sat up to the top rows, you felt pretty uncomfortable with yourself thinking of a teacher that way.
"Y / N wait" Just when class ended you rushed to pack your things and run out of the classroom, but it still didn't work. "Did you think about what I told you?"The professor actually looked pretty excited about his own project.
"Yes, I just wondered if the meetings or the times we work could be on Fridays, that would make things a lot easier for me" You said without seeing the professor in the eyes, it was somewhat uncomfortable after that strange dream of the weekend.
"Sure, then it's a deal,” he held out his hand as if they were going to close the deal with a strong squeeze.
"Deal" You shook his hand and when you saw him you felt that his look was not only kind, but he was actually trying to tell you something.
The classes went on normally, you felt a little excited being sincere that you went to work with the professor who was now at the same time your impossible love, but you had to be careful for him not to notice. They agreed to meet after your last class at the lab on Fridays, at 15:00 hours. You knew it wasn't right, but from the moment you were attracted to the professor every time you saw him, you started using lip gloss and curling your hair.
For several weeks they worked on their project, now you understood their sudden mood swings, it was quite frustrating to feel that you had advanced in something and then realized that something did not fit with the rest of the procedure.
One Friday when you arrived he was making notes on the blackboard, had taken off his coat and tie and folded the sleeves of his shirt in a way that looked spectacularly attractive.
"Y / N pass," he smiled when he saw you in the driveway. "Did you read the documents I sent you?"On Wednesday he sent you a very interesting document about some theories related to the project.
"Yes, I just made some notes from some parts that I honestly didn't understand" You left your backpack in one of the buckets at the ends of the room " I'm not very good at some things”
"Neither do I, but don't worry,” he winked at you and you felt like you were melting internally.
For an hour they tried to solve one of the most difficult equations within the theory they chose, it was quite fun as sometimes you would collapse and sometimes he, but both tried to cheer up so as not to erase the whole slate of despair.
”Ready," you said when you finally managed to solve the equation.
”You did it!" saw the board quite surprised and so did you. "Your boyfriend is lucky" For a second he himself kept quiet knowing that the last thing he said wasn't quite right.
"Boyfriend? that species is extinct within my social radar" You laughed trying to keep him from feeling uncomfortable.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean that." He saw you trying to analyze your expression.
"Well sometimes the unconscious makes us a bad move" You smiled broadly "besides I guess the lucky one is his girlfriend" you returned the same move trying to tempt the ground.
"It's also an extinct species to me," he smiled, but he avoid your gaze.
"Well, then we're free to go looking for it.”
"I thought you had a boyfriend," he said as he started writing the equation on the board on the computer.
"Why?"you sat at the desk, watching him write on the computer quite nervous.
"Nothing else" You knew he was lying to you.
"Nothing else?”
"Well you're a very cute and smart girl, I figured a lot of guys are interested in you.” He didn't even look you in the eye when he said that.
”I'm not really interested in anyone" You saw through the window as you answered" well, only in someone, but it's impossible” Oh God, now the unconscious had made the wrong move to you talking too much.
”Nothing is impossible" he looked up and seemed to know what you meant.
"Well, it's just that if I just had a sign I could know it's not impossible" You started fiddling with your wrist bracelet nervously.
"How what a sign?" he stopped writing and stood right in front of you, you were still sitting at the desk.
"I don't know" You felt the adrenaline start to accelerate your pulse as it approached you.
"A date, a kiss, or even invite you to work on a project?" He placed his hands on the edge of the desk rubbing your legs.
”Yes, that sounds good " Clearly you knew what he meant, his look and yours were fixed, you appreciated that the door was closed and it was the third level, the windows were facing nowhere, so no one could see what was happening.
"Well sometimes it is necessary that you also give signals, don't you think?" His gaze and yours really seemed to be completely fixed.
"Yeah, that sounds fair." You started breathing deeper.
Slowly, he tempting the ground, began to approach, for a moment you knew that this was not right, that it was not right, but fuck, your body wanted it as you have no idea. Slowly he started to kiss you, he was nice and actually a very good kisser, then he started to get a little rougher, but both you and he knew you wanted him, his arm held your hip and your hands hugged his neck holding on to him.
"Dr. Hiddleston, I bring the copies you ordered." Someone knocked on the door and immediately the feeling of running out overwhelmed you.
"Sure, I'm coming" saw you and he wiped the lip gloss you had left on him. You packed your stuff fast and when I was going to close the door again you walked out without seeing him in the face.
"Until Monday" You started walking fast.
"Y / N wait" was the last thing you heard when you started going down the stairs two at a time.
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You, Diane and Jared planned to go out that weekend, you weren't feeling well, but you also didn't want to leave them after you had planned this for days.
"Hey, you look pale," Jared saw you worried as they waited for food at the mall.
"Do you feel well Y/N?" Diane picked up a lock of your hair as you looked at nothingness.
”I'm a little worried," you said looking at the table now  "Can I ask for some advice?”
”You know you can Y/N" Jared saw you even more worried.
"What should I do if I like someone I shouldn't like?" Dress up Jared.
"Does he have a girlfriend or is he a fuck boy?" Diane asked pretty quickly.
"None, it's just...”
”Then I see no reason why you shouldn't like it."
”It's not that, but, he's like, I don't know how to say this" You didn't want to tell them that he was your thermodynamics professor, you would never actually do it. "I met him some time ago in the cinema, he's cute and kind to me, but he's older than me” you lied a little about it.
"How much are we talking about?”
"14 years, I think" you've never actually asked him about his age, but on one occasion while you were typing on his computer you saw his college professor card that had all his data on it by the way.
”Look at that, my best friend a whole league men" Diane actually got excited, started asking you what he was like and if you had already had something with him which was pretty strange, but Jared's expression wasn't really emotional.
"I can only tell you to be very careful Y/N" Jared took your hand " Do not let the pretty words lead you down a path other than the one you seek. And well, if he like you and you like him, I see no problem”
The weekend you thought about the kiss his gave, it was quite nice really nice, you had only had three boyfriends before and honestly their kiss had been better than all the previous ones. The problem was what were you going to do on Monday when you see him? Well that day you decided to wear a pink dress that your mother given you at Christmas, you never wore this type of clothes so it was going to be something quite new, you combed your hair differently even, you knew that if you were at least going to talk to him and he told you that it was a mistake he would miss something great.
Your legs started shaking when you walked into the classsroom, you sat as usual in the third row, Tom wasn't there yet, so that calmed you down a little more. You noticed that in this class you had not made friends, so to avoid the panic of seeing him in the eyes when he entered in the classroom you preferred to start talking to the girl who always sat next to you.
"He took a while, didn't it?" you smiled so you didn't look crazy.
"Yes something, but for me no problem" the girl smiled as well
"My name is Y / N, and you?”
"Meghan, you're going with the teacher Fox in relativity, aren't you?”
"Yeah, you too?”
"No but my boyfriend does, I've seen you come out of there when I expect it”
"Well, I don't really know many people.”
"Well, college is exhausting," they both smiled, actually Meghan seemed like a pretty nice girl.
"Speaking of the king of Rome, he's arrive." When she said that and you heard the door shut, fear invaded you, so you didn't look at him. You just focused on your computer monitor, but you knew he saw you.
The class felt as if it had lasted 20 minutes and not an hour and a half, the desire to leave was enough.
"Hey if you want we could have breakfast together today, apparently you don't have class now either, do you?" Meghan waited for you to put your things away.
"Of course I would love to and no, I don't have class” You fully appreciated that Meghan will not leave you in the classroom, without looking at Tom you went out with your new friend, you felt that had been a bit cruel, but the nerves were worse.
At the end of the day you didn't do anything about it and neither did Wednesday and apparently Tom wasn't interested in asking you to stay and talk either, or so it seemed.
On Friday you returned to the usual routine with the usual clothes and hairstyle, honestly you no longer felt in the mood to waste time on those things. The class went on normally until at one point you crossed eyes with him, it was a bit strange, but you pretended you didn't care and ignored him after a few seconds. At the same time in the classes you talked with Meghan, even going out to eat the cafeteria.
"Y/N can we talk for a second?"Back to being alone with him in the classroom at the end, Meghan said goodbye and whispered you in your ear that she will waiting for you in the cafeteria.
"Hey I didn't want to overdo you, let alone bother you, I apologize for it and also if you no longer want to work on the project I will fully understand it” His face seemed that he was really sorry about last week.
"I really don't know what to say." You were completely honest.
"I'm sorry I should have known that you're not interested in me at all and it's okay”
"I never said I wasn't interested”
He calmly checked the hallway and closed the classroom door
"You ran away, that tells me otherwise”
"Yes, but that's was I panicked, I didn't want to bother you”
"For God's sake, that doesn't matter anymore.”
"It does matter and quite”
"You want to talk about this then?”
"Yeah, I'm sorry I didn't do it sooner”
"So am I, excuse me too” he hesitated for a second when he finally asked," Do you want to continue with the project?”
"Of course I do" You got a little closer to him.
"See you at 15: 00 then" He too approached and carefully kissed your hand to leave the classroom.
This time you arrived early, your teacher had let them out forty minutes earlier, so you decided to be somewhat punctual to your appointment. You read while you waited sitting on the chairs in the hallway, when you saw him come you smiled and he when saw you, smiled too.
"I'm sorry, I didn't think you were going to arrive so early” he closed the door carefully and just as he turned around you gave him a pretty long kiss and he reciprocated broadly.
"I'm sorry" You saw that he was actually happy about it "I think last time we couldn't finish it"
He held your face in his hands for a few seconds "I like you Y/N, I know what's not right, I know this not right, but fuck, I like you a lot”
”And you me" He kissed you again, this time a little rough, it seemed that he wanted to make his statement clear. ”I really wanted to kiss you in front of everybody on Monday in that cute dress."
"If you like it I can bring it more days," you winked.
After that day working on the project was much more fun, and even in the classes they shared gazes from time to time, it felt good, had passed enough time that you did not date someone. On the other hand, sometimes fear invaded you, you knew that if anyone found out about whatever it was you and Tom had, it was the end of your scholarship and even your college life.
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"Do you like lobster?"He asked you while making notes on the computer and you cleaned the board.
"I've never eaten it"
“What? How can you live without eating lobster in your life?" He came up to you and, holding you by the waist, turned you towards him.
"Well, we're not all millionaires so I can't buy lobster." You inadvertently smeared chalk in his hair when you touched him.
"Then I'll buy you lobster dinner. What do you say?" He caressed your face as he waited for your answer
"Mmmm, when?”
"Tomorrow, I'd wait a few blocks from here, you don't want anyone to see you getting in my car, do you?”
"I'd love for them to, but yes, send me the instructions and I'll see you there then.”
"Why would you love it?"He kissed your neck calmly.
"That they might see that you are mine" You smiled mockingly.
"Well, I mean you're mine too, so it would be a fair deal.”
For weeks now both were texting, it was interesting to see that teachers also have a life apart from teaching.
You dressed up, not so formal or so casual for the occasion, it was the first date you had, it felt a little strange, you wore on a low-cut black dress, something daring for your tastes, but it was the most suitable thing you found. When you arrived at the rendezvous point, you immediately identified his car.
“I can't believe how perfect you are, " he gave you a sweet kiss while you fixed your skirt so it wouldn't wrinkle. He came as always very formal.
The dinner was perfect, you did not know that the lobster tasted that way, you liked it a lot, the place was beautiful, the waiters very attentive and well, talking with Tom about things that were not thermodynamics was pleasant. In the end he invited you to his apartment, which you sincerely hoped was not just with the intention of kissing you.
When they arrived his apartment looked like a palace, it was very nice, very cozy, his kitchen was comfortable enough to cook anything, your apartment was too small for a kitchen like him.
He told you that he should make some calls, that you could explore the house if you wanted and you took his word, it was very nice place, in the hallway to the bedroom had his medals and recognitions, you did not know that he studied chemistry too, he's a genius. When you finished walking, you looked in the fridge for something to drink.
"Want some wine?"Because of its height it was much easier to reach the shelves above where it seemed to have the bottles of wine.
”I would love to"
He served two glasses in half, it was red wine with a very good smell, you knew it because your father was a wine lover, so much so that he had even taken you to vineyards to see how they did it.
"May I?"You asked, pointing out if you could play something on the record player in the room.
“Clear”
When yo put the pen on the record a fairly quiet song began to play, he took the cup out of your hand and put it on the ledge next to his, placed his hand on your waist and with the other he held your hand, you placed yours on his neck.
“Would you laugh if I told you it's the first time I've danced with someone? well, that someone who is not my father invites me to dance”
"Really?”
"Yeah, well I had a boyfriend that I took out to dance, that's why it doesn't count,” you laughed as you remembered that.
"Well, what an idiot, you are beautiful Y/N and I will dance with you as many times as possible”
You felt a lot of peace in his arms, he was much stronger than you, that was clear, but even just seeing him in the eyes you felt that everything was going to be okay. You weren't very good at dancing, but he gave you the confidence to even make a mistake.
For a moment he began to kiss you slowly, slowly while the music echoed to both of us, then he began to kiss your neck which in a way tickled you, but at the same time made you want it with all your soul. After a few seconds as his hands ran through your hips and yours his hair whispered into his ear: "Take me to the bedroom" you stared at him and he understood completely.
He carried you so easily that it seemed that you did not weigh anything, carefully put you in bed and wait for you reaction.
"For God's sake, I want to make you mine from the moment I saw you at that fucking science fair contest.”
"Well now is your time" You bit your lip slightly.
He knew you were too small in comparison to him, so he was very careful when touch you, first he started by your dress, very slowly unbuttoning it. He look you in your underwear the moment he managed to take it off you. On the other hand, you, in a somewhat desperate way, started to take off his belt.
"No, until I say so" Their gaze turned a bit dark, they could see the desire for each other in your eyes.
He started kissing your crotch carefully, you moaned slightly, you had no intimate contact with anyone for a long time, so you somehow didn't remember how glorious this feels. He kept kissing getting closer to your entrance, the heat began to flood your body, after walking your thighs he began to lick your entrance a little desperate, but at the same time touching the exact points to make you see stars. He put two fingers inside you and immediately your back curled, when he entered the third in you pulled his hair as you began to feel the heat in your stomach increase more and more.
”Tom, please, I'm almost there" you moaned as your eyesight began to blur completely.
His fingers began to move faster and for an instant you felt like the heat flooded your whole body, it was the first time that someone managed to make you come with oral sex. You pulled his hair back, but it didn't seem to bother him, even taking it as a way to know where or not to continue. Your legs clenched at the feeling and he proudly began to undress. When you saw it you felt that you really needed to have he inside you, his axis was quite large, more than you imagined and its well worked body made you feel needed.
"Fuck me like there's no tomorrow," you whispered as you recovered from the first round.
You felt the desire going between your legs, again you were so wet just to imagine he inside you.
"You know that if I hurt you or if you want me to stop I will do it immediately” He placed on you and spread your legs with his knee.
You just nodded, he was staring at you as he began to insert his shaft into you, it hurt a bit, tears started running down your cheeks and Tom's face looked worried, "Do you want me to stop?”
"No!" To drown the groans you hid your face on his shoulder as he began to take a rhythm in his onslaught, at one point the pain ceased and he took a stronger rhythm, one after another, you felt as your body began to attach quite well to its axis, to the degree that you glued more your hips to his, demanding more. When he noticed it one of his hands took the headboard and with the other placed one of your legs on his shoulder to give you what you needed. At some point he also started moaning, loud and deep, which made you feel even more excited in the middle of it all.
”Fuck, why are you so perfect?" he whispered into your ear as you began to feel your orgasm was about to bloom.
"Make me yours, only yours" you moaned almost without strength.
"You are only mine" His onslaught, although it seemed that you could not, began to be faster and deeper, you knew that sitting was going to be a challenge for you in the following days.
To drown your groans he gave you a very deep kiss, his tongue did all the work in the kiss, honestly for you it was a sea of sensations that would end you unconscious of pleasure. Just as they both reached the climax he saw you in the eyes and felt you fade away in sobs and moans.
”I'm almost there" he said as he clung even more to you and your legs began to close with pleasure.
"Me too" Didn't know if you understood what you meant, but at least you were trying.
"Let me feel you" His words were your release and his, you felt the heat of his seed inside you and it was enough for your orgasm to reach the necessary point of feeling a deep warmth throughout your body. The veins on her neck were too marked and you could also feel her breathing so heavy as she enjoyed her release.
He was over you for several minutes, the only thing you could hear in the room was his busy, deep breaths. You hugged him fondly and he hugged you, when he came out of you you felt a pretty weird void, but fuck, it was the best sex you'd ever had in your life.
After his breaths managed to take a moderate course he saw you in the eyes as he groomed your hair carefully.
”I didn't want to be too brusque the first time" His hand caressed your stomach, internally you told yourself that if this was not brusque you didn't imagine the next time how sore you would end up, but it's something that really excited you, in every way.
"We'll have many more times to do it" You smiled and planted a kiss on his lips. "Many more" smiled in the middle of the kiss which made you adore him even more.
Thanks for readign me 
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Text
Emotional abuse is NOT to be normalized.
Hello everyone! Anon from the “
I’m a victim of emotional abuse
” post. And today I’m going to explain my story of the emotional abuse I went through. 
My story begins as a lot do, online. I was about 10 years old so I didn’t know what were red flags, and what relationships I should avoid. I had a very toxic friend group back then that enjoyed self deprecation and honestly bullying each other, me included. We used to do the cringe roleplays children do and making cringe oc’s. I met someone we’ll call Rin. 
Rin didn’t bully me like the others in the friend group and very often came to me for opinions, and over all talking without making me feel like utter garbage. I ate up all the praise, all the love and support Rin gave me. However, even as early as friendship, they would get angry at me if I did stuff they didn’t like and would sometimes ignore me, sometimes verbally assault me into apologizing for things I really shouldn’t have. 
»»————-————-««
For context, Back then I was both unmedicated for anxiety and I was going through a harsh time with my aunt and cousins living with us. When I was 6, my drug addict uncle committed suicide and I’d been living with them for about 4 years by that time. (No, my parents nor aunt told us he committed suicide. at the time, don’t worry) They made my life HELL, constantly getting me in trouble and generally putting me down. 
Context: Rin was 16 when i was 10. 
»»————-————-««
One day I was doing our daily playing games with the friend group and Rin when one of our friends, Rose, Told us we’d make a *great* couple. By that time I had some feelings for Rin, we’d voice call occasionally, to me they weren’t a stranger. Rin had agreed and in hind sight I was kind of pressured into the relationship. 
All of the behavior I mentioned before, where they would get pissy whenever I did something they didn’t like or get nice when I did something they *did* like got WORSE. It’s nothing like what media presents, because when people wish to manipulate you they will without hesitation. 
Rin began threatening bodily harm, showing me cuts if I did something vaguely wrong. They would tell me I was worthless without them. That if I’d “Only just listen to me I could make you the best girl ever!" 
They found it funny when I’d get squeamish over topics, continuing the conversations and saying that if I’d just tell them that I’d like it then they’d stop. 
One day when I was 11, it just got too much for me so I said we needed to break up. You wanna know what Rin did? 
They threatened suicide. They told me if I left them they’d kill themselves. That I was all they were living for. That I was the love of their life and if I left them it’d be my fault if they killed themselves. 
I was 11, I didn’t know any better about the situation but I knew I didn’t want them to die so I stayed. I stayed in the relationship. I tried 3 more times to break up with the same result. the same threat of Suicide. Sometimes with photos. 
After that original threat they began getting s*xual. They began mentioning we should meet up IRL, despite us being several states apart. They began describing what they’d do to my body s*xually when we met IRL. They told me that if I didn’t want to fulfill their fantasy’s I was a bad SO. That I should only exist to fulfill their wants and *their* needs. It didn’t matter what I wanted.
when I was 12, I finally had an out. They had been stabbed and sent to the hospital. They weren’t online so I took the chance and broke up with them when they couldn’t do anything about it. They tried when they got back but I was long gone. 
Now normally Media presents this as when a trauma victim starts healing and returns to perfect normalcy. That isn’t the case. Its been at least 4 years since I left them, since I got out of that situation, but I still have the fears. Have the insecurities. I still hear their voice telling me I’m worthless, That I’d be better off a trophy on their wall. That since I’m not their perfect ideal woman I should just shut up and be the best wife to the next man that decides I’m worth their time.
my anxiety’s voice, once a always changing one *became* their voice. I’ve healed, I’ve moved on from the abuse but their voice haunts me. Their Abuse has left mental scars that will NEVER heal. 
This is why having Mental Abuse of any form be normalized is horrible. because it means more people like me will go through situations like these. and not be allowed to escape because we’re "over reacting”. Because we’re “just in hysterics. it’s perfectly normal!" 
this is a serious issue that shouldn’t be brushed under the rug. Miraculous Ladybug is the WORST offender of normalizing Mental Abuse I have ever seen. because I KNOW the red flags. I have trained myself to see them. To protect myself. 
Normalizing normal little issues is fine. But mental abuse? never. NEVER should ANY form of abuse be normalized because it means more victims will appear. This shouldn’t even be a thing but here I am. Having to fight for people to realize this isn’t a thing that should be just accepted. 
TL;DR: My first ex threatened to cause bodily harm when i was 10, and when i was 11 threatened suicide for me daring to try and break up with them. I escaped when i was 12, only barely. Now my anxiety has taken their voice and haunts me to this day.
If you’ve read this long, thank you! and have some
kittens
for what I just made you read. Thank you for your time. 
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First of all, I want to thank you for your bravery in coming forward to share your experience. I am so sorry you had to go through this. Nobody deserves to be treated this way.
Second, you still raise a valid point. 
Media in general tends to downplay emotional abuse and parental neglect, a good example being Monica Geller’s relationship with her parents from Friends. Almost every episode featuring Monica’s mom showed her being insensitive to her daughter and constantly belittled her while undermining her achievements like prioritizing Ross’ new girlfriend over Monica’s weight loss in a flashback. Even if it was unintentional on her part, it still damaged Monica’s psyche, and this kind of treatment was always played for laughs.
The fact that even shows today tend to downplay mental trauma shows that people don’t really understand the kind of damage it can cause.
The way Chloe’s relationship with her mother is portrayed is a good example. At least Friends is targeted towards an older audience so it could be enjoyed in a morbid way by laughing at Monica’s misery, but at its core, Miraculous Ladybug is aimed at children. Children will see Chloe bonding with her neglectful mother and see it as normal, as a good thing.
The fact that Astruc still doesn’t get how bad Chloe’s upbringing was shows he doesn’t get mental abuse either.
You need to better understand mental trauma before actually trying to write it. Otherwise, you end up depicting mental abuse in the wrong way and give viewers the wrong impression of it.
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bastillewolf · 3 years
Text
Corpse's Bride (I)
Pairing: Corpse Husband / Reader
Summary: When you end up in an unfortunate arranged marriage to salvage what is left of your parents’ wealth, it seems fate has other ideas in store for you; or perhaps it was the Devil who decided to bring back the dead?
Notes: Yea, I don’t know why I wrote this either, and no idea where this series is gonna go. If you have any suggestions, please send them. But I wanted to write something for Christmas since I haven’t posted in a while. I hope you all have safe and happy holidays! Let’s just get 2020 over with, please.
Tag list currently closed.
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Chapter I - The wedding
Somewhere through the clouds of smoke erupting from the city, just beyond the hills, lies a small town called Gloomington. Where the streets are always swept and yet seem never clean, where birds fly high through the sky yet never manage to reach the clouds, and where dreams are crushed underneath the wheels of creaking carriages and half-empty fish barrels. It might seem like the most boring old town, with its inhabitants that look like they’re either on the brink of death or very much willing to be, but it wasn’t to you. No, to you life appeared much more interesting, though not by your own volition. You did not turn a blind eye to the grey streets or creaking bones or listening ears, as they had always been the same to you, but the troubles you had yet to bear were much too big to focus on anything else.
Your parents had deemed that on your twenty-first birthday, you were finally fit for marriage. It was the age that they had gotten married, and by tradition, through their parents as well. Why they had decided to force this upon you as well, you did not know, for as long as you could remember you’d only ever thought of your parents to be miserable together. Their time with you was now something of the past, however, because if all went well today, you would be married within just a day or two.
It was already raining, which would’ve made the situation so much gloomier to you if you hadn’t been revelling in the fact that it meant you could take the carriage instead of walk. You didn’t mind getting your shoes or the hem of your dress dirty, but other people did. And the people you would be seeing today would not approve of anything that wasn’t perfect upon arrival.
You only remembered the Everglots vaguely from your childhood during the instance when you’d been playing in a similar storm and one of their maids had shooed you away, saying you were being too loud and an unfit view for their folk. Their house was a different story, however. It stood tall above all other houses, even yours, so it was hard to miss. You weren’t rich, even though your parents liked to pretend they were. Your father owned the biggest and only fishing company in town; the main source of income from Gloomington. The thing was though, the seas were being overfished, and all he was getting from the ocean now were ones the sizes of goldfish.
You presumed this is why your parents decided to marry you off to the Everglots’ son, Thomas. According to your nanny, they were a bunch of washed-up aristocrats. Otherwise, you’d never even caught a glimpse of them, let alone of their offspring. Which is probably why you were so nervous. If he was anything like his parents personality-wise, you hoped he at least made up for it on the outside.
“Stop fidgeting,” your mother said, snapping you from your daze. You looked down to your hands, which had been crumpling a bunch of the fabric of your dress together, probably creating creases. You wonder if you had subconsciously done it, simply out of spite, because the nerves had numbed any other senses. You smoothed it out, crossed your legs and folded your hands across your lap, to which your mother gave a pleased nod.
A glance towards your father told you not much else, he was too busy going through last-minute calculations in his notebook. This must seem like ordinary business to him.
Your heart jumped a little as you watched the horse pulling your carriage nearly slip in the mud. He’d been in your family for fifteen years now, it was a wonder he was still standing. Perhaps the whip was reason enough for such a solemn animal, confined to his leather straps and iron mouthpiece. You tugged on the silver chain your mother had draped across your neck. Some of the diamonds had been taken out, but you could only see it if you looked very closely.
The carriage wavered and eventually managed to stop with another crack of the whip. It went almost simultaneously with the clash of thunder.
Hopping out, you looked down to see your polished shoes had landed directly in the biggest puddle on the square.
“Oh, miss, you should’ve let me put my coat down for you,” the old coachman called out, rising from his seat.
Your mother’s unnerving gaze followed yours down to the puddle around your feet. “Yes, you should have. I told you to watch your step with those shoes. Henry, clean them up.”
The coachman then proceeded to lay down his coat in the puddle anyways, and even after your protests continued to polish your shoes with his previously clean white handkerchief. You thanked him when he was finished, to which he tipped his hat.
“Hurry up. We’re already late,” your mother said. You wanted to rip the whip from his hands and hit her with it, but your composure and good sense got the better of you.
The massive doorknocker hit the hardwood three times because of your father’s shaky hand, which seemed to collapse back down to his side immediately after.
To your surprise, no maid opened, but the lady of the house herself did. Missus Everglot looked down upon you with a smile that looked more like a sneer. Her hair was greying, almost to the point where it was white, a colour matching the black dress she wore. Weren’t you supposed to wear colour for a special occasion such as this? You’d been so bold to wear something green; your best dress, to be perfectly honest. Were you supposed to wear black?
“It is good to see you again,” she hummed, and your parents made noises of agreement.
“Our apologies for bringing the bad weather. But that usually means good luck!” Your father said. You all laughed, though mostly out of politeness.
She invited you in, and you were finally able to see the grandeur of the Everglots household. Or well, what was left of it. The unlit fireplaces on either side of the entrance hall made you wonder if they no longer had maids working for them or if they simply enjoyed the cold. There was only one butler you saw so far, the one who took your coats from you and then scurried off. A big staircase stood in front of you, leading two opposite directions upstairs.
“Ah! You must be the daughter we’ve been hearing so much about!” Mister Everglot suddenly appeared, his arms spread wide with the same smile as his wife spread across his pale cheeks. He also wore black, though he bore quite a bit more weight than his wife, almost to the point where the top button of his shirt looked like it wanted to bail ship.
“It’s a true pleasure meeting you, mister Everglot,” you replied quietly, holding out your hand for him to shake. He barely did, before brushing you off to gloat about things to your parents. “You know, we’ve picked out the finest gold for the rings. The blacksmith in town just did a marvellous job on them-“
The ring on your hand felt heavy. It was your grandmothers’, passed down from your mother and onto you. Now you had to bear the burden of a loveless marriage.
Your silent sigh was interrupted by a quiet clearing of someone’s throat.
You looked up to meet the eyes of a dark-haired boy, who was scratching the back of his neck uncomfortably. He asked you if he got your name right. You nodded politely.
“Hi, I’m- I’m Thomas. It’s very nice to meet you, miss.”
You huffed in amusement at his stuttering. “I don’t think you have to call me ‘miss’, Thomas. We’ll be married soon.”
He smiled shyly. “I would keep calling you ‘miss’ if you preferred it. Marriage wouldn’t change that for me.”
You stood there, slightly aghast. This boy was nothing like his parents. You wondered who had raised him because as you had been fortunate enough with your nanny, you couldn’t imagine his having been any different.
“Better watch it there, Thomas.” Another man strutted down the stairs behind him. He looked just about as pretentious as mister and missus Everglot. “Don’t want to scare the little lady off there.”
Sykkuno only chuckled, but you could sense that his friend didn’t have the best intentions. He introduced himself after you, “The name’s Barkis. I’m a… good family friend of the Everglots, I suppose.” He kissed your hand, which made you shiver uncomfortably. You tried your best to hide it, instead turning your eyes to meet Thomas’ again. They seemed much brighter in this gloomy place.
At least, that’s what you kept reminding yourself of as you looked at yourself in the mirror, trying to refrain from fainting as your mother kept pulling on the strings of your corset until you were quite certain a few ribs had been broken off in the process.
“Now,” she reminded you, “This will be good for the family. I know you’re an unconventional spitfire, - I don’t know who you got that from – but you shall learn to listen to your husband. It will save your father’s business and his honour, not to mention your dignity.”
You couldn’t breathe, you needed air. Your mother saw the look in your eyes.
“And as a final warning, young lady, if you dare to try to run, you better remind yourself that this family will never take you in again. Not when you come crawling back with not a penny to carry, not with a baby you got from another man. You will be as good as dead to us, if you wouldn’t have already died in some gutter.”
You nodded, “I understand, mother. I just need some air.”
She gave you one last glance, before nodding. She locked the door after she left.
It allowed you to burst through the doors to the Everglots balcony, where outside the rain had thankfully settled a bit to a slight drizzle. But you didn’t care if your dress got wet. You had to untie the knot at your back.
Quickly.
But you couldn’t reach.
You leaned across the railing.
If you could reach a little further-
But your hand slipped, and you felt your feet being thrown the wrong way as you plummeted down the second floor.
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rphelperblog · 2 years
Text
The Night Circus Quote Rp Meme
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“The finest of pleasures are always the unexpected ones.”
“People see what they wish to see. And in most cases, what they are told that they see.”
“The past stays on you the way powdered sugar stays on your fingers. Some people can get rid of it but it’s still there, the events and things that pushed you to where you are now.”
"This is not magic. This is the way the world is, only very few people take the time to stop and note it. Look around you,
“Is magic not enough to live for?"
“People are naive about such things, and they would rather write them off as evil than attempt to understand them. An unfortunate truth, but a truth nonetheless.” 
“Trespassers Will Be Exsanguinated.” 
“I believe you have my umbrella"
“Better to have a single perfect diamond than a sack of flawed stones.”
"You appear the same way to me, so which of us is real?”
“You believe you could not live with the pain. Such pain is not lived with. It is only endured. I am sorry.” 
'There may be decisions to make and surprises in store. Life takes us to unexpected places sometimes. The future is never set in stone, remember that
“That's the beauty of it. Have you seen the contraptions these magicians build to accomplish the most mundane feats? They are a bunch of fish covered in feathers trying to convince the public they can fly, I am simply a bird in their midst.” 
“This is not magic. This is the way the world is, only very few people take the time to stop and note it.” 
“Wine is bottled poetry.”
“I suggest you keep your distance from her and concentrate on your own work.” 
“I cannot let a place that is so important to so many people fade away. Something that is wonder and comfort and mystery all together that they have nowhere else. If you had that, wouldn't you want to keep it?”
“I am tired of trying to hold things together that cannot be held.” 
“...have a theory that she is in love with the dream of someone and not an actual person.” 
“Nothing's impossible,"
“It will make the challenge a great deal more difficult for you.”
“And there are really never endings, happy or otherwise.” 
“Timing is a sensitive thing.” 
"Love is fickle and fleeting.It is rarely a solid foundation for decisions to be made upon, in any game.”
“Most maidens are perfectly capable of rescuing themselves in my experience, at least the ones worth something, in any case.”
The circus arrives without warning. No announcements precede it. It is simply there, when yesterday it was not.”
“Life takes us to unexpected places sometimes. The future is never set in stone, remember that.” 
“We lead strange lives, chasing our dreams around from place to place.” 
“But dreams have ways of turning into nightmares.” 
“I have tried to let you go and I cannot. I cannot stop thinking of you. I cannot stop dreaming about you.” 
“You're in the right place at the right time, and you care enough to do what needs to be done. Sometimes that's enough.” 
“I would have written you, myself, if I could put down in words everything I want to say to you. A sea of ink would not be enough.' 'But you built me dreams instead.”
“The most difficult thing to read is time. Maybe because it changes so many things.” 
“Good and evil are a great deal more complex than a princess and a dragon . . . is not the dragon the hero of his own story?” 
People don’t pay much attention to anything unless you give them reason to” 
“I made a wish on this tree years ago,"
“I couldn't tell the difference between what was real and what I wanted to be real.” 
"But I remember the people who look at me the way you do."
"As though they cannot decide if they are afraid of me or they want to kiss me."
“I have been surrounded by love letters you two have built each other for years, encased in tents.”
“Everything I have done, every change I have made to that circus, every impossible feat and astounding sight, I have done for her.” 
“The truest tales require time and familiarity to become what they are.”
“I think looking forward will be better than looking back.”
“I prefer to remain unenlightened, to better appreciate the dark.” 
“We must put effort and energy into anything we wish to change.” 
“I am haunted by the ghost of my father, I think that should allow me to quote Hamlet as much as I please.” 
“But you built me dreams instead.”
“I mean only that I hope they find darkness or paradise without fear of it, if they can.
“I don't think there's anything wrong being a dreamer.” 
"I think I made an analogy about cake."
"Who doesn't like a good cake analogy?” 
"you are not destined or chosen. I wish I could tell you that you were if that would make it easier, but it is not true. You are in the right place, at the right time, and you care enough to do what needs to be done. Sometimes that is enough.” 
“It is difficult to see a situation for what it is when you are in the midst of it,It is too familiar. Too comfortable.” 
“You prefer not to see the gears of the clock, as to better tell time.” 
“You need to understand your limitations so you can overcome them.”
“And there are never really endings, happy or otherwise. Things keep going on, they overlap and blur, your story is part of your sister's story is part of many other stories, and there is no telling where any of them may lead.” 
“Once they were librarians, but that is a subject they will only discuss if heavily intoxicated.” 
“A dreamer is one who can only find his way by moonlight, and his punishment is that he sees the dawn before the rest of the world”
“Each of them always gravitating toward the other. Yet still they do not touch.” 
“All empires fall eventually. It is the way of things.
“Memories begin to creep forward from hidden corners of your mind. Passing disappointments. Lost chances and lost causes. Heartbreaks and pain and desolate, horrible loneliness. Sorrows you thought long forgotten mingle with still-fresh wounds.”
“It is destroying me that I cannot ask you to dance.” 
“This is, in part, why there is less magic in the world today. Magic is secret and secrets are magic, after all, and years upon years of teaching and sharing magic and worse. Writing it down in fancy books that get all dusty with age has lessened it, removed its power bit by bit.” 
“It is likely to make us think we are not caged. We cannot feel the bars unless we push against them.” 
“So it’s really best to keep your secrets when you have them, for their own good, as well as yours.” 
“A woman I should like to think I know rather well and a woman I had always considered a mystery, are in fact the same person.” 
“Only the ship is made of books, its sails thousands of overlapping pages, and the sea it floats upon is dark black ink.” 
“Like stepping into a fairy tale under a curtain of stars.”
“You think, as you walk away from Le Cirque des Rêves and into the creeping dawn, that you felt more awake within the confines of the circus. You are no longer quite certain which side of the fence is the dream.” 
“I am tired of trying to hold things together that cannot be held. Trying to control what cannot be controlled. I am tired of denying myself what I want for fear of breaking things I cannot fix. They will break no matter what we do.” 
“If she were gone I would be nothing. You should think better of yourself than to settle for that.” 
Unusual yet beautiful. Provocative while remaining elegant.”
“I am tired of denying myself what I want for fear of breaking things I cannot fix. They will break no matter what we do”
“Perhaps it is controlling the chaos within more than the chaos without.” 
“The rain increases and umbrellas sprout like mushrooms amongst the graves.” 
“Striving for uniqueness in a world of sameness” 
"It is a long and complicated story."
“How are you managing to keep everyone from aging?”
“The sensation reminds him of the first snow of winter, for those first few hours when everything is blanketed in white, soft and quiet.
“Are we going to discuss whatever it is you are here to discuss instead of dancing around it?”
“I didn't know your identity, but I had an impression of who my opponent was, being surrounded by things you made.” 
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